Any Place More
Solitary And Apparently Isolated Could Not Be Imagined - It Was A Most
Pathetic Scene.
Hazy visions of the mere near which King Arthur lay
dying came before my eyes.
If I had seen the solemn boat with "the
three fair queens," in "robes of samite, mystic, wonderful," I should
not have been surprised, nor would it have been odd if the lake had
changed into the Styx, across which I was being ferried, a cold,
colorless shade. To and fro, up and down, we poled over the tragic
waters till I actually felt a terror far beyond eeriness taking
possession of me.
It grew grayer and darker, and we went back for Captain Walker, who,
with the absorption of a true sportsman, had hardly noticed the falling
shadows. It was a relief to hear the human voice once more. It broke
the worst spell I was ever bound by. As he came out on the branch to
get into the canoe it gave way, and he fell into the water up to his
chin. Then the boat pole broke, so that when we got back to the padi it
was obvious that "the dark" was coming "at one stride," and I suggested
that, as we had two miles to walk and a river to cross at night, and we
should certainly be very late for dinner; Mr. Low might become uneasy
about us, as we were both strangers and unable to speak the language;
but Captain Walker thought differently.
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