In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land

In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land
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Книга "In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land", автором которой является Gordon Stables, представляет собой захватывающую работу в жанре Зарубежная классика. В этом произведении автор рассказывает увлекательную историю, которая не оставит равнодушными читателей.

Автор мастерски воссоздает атмосферу напряженности и интриги, погружая читателя в мир загадок и тайн, который скрывается за хрупкой поверхностью обыденности. С прекрасным чувством языка и виртуозностью сюжетного развития, Gordon Stables позволяет читателю погрузиться в сложные эмоциональные переживания героев и проникнуться их судьбами. Stables настолько живо и точно передает неповторимые нюансы человеческой психологии, что каждая страница книги становится путешествием в глубины человеческой души.

"In Far Bolivia: A Story of a Strange Wild Land" - это не только захватывающая история, но и искусство, проникнутое глубокими мыслями и философскими размышлениями. Это произведение призвано вызвать у читателя эмоциональные отклики, задуматься о важных жизненных вопросах и открыть новые горизонты восприятия мира.

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PREFACE

Every book should tell its own story without theaid of "preface" or "introduction". But as in thistale I have broken fresh ground, it is but right andjust to my reader, as well as to myself, to mentionprefatorially that, as far as descriptions go, both ofthe natives and the scenery of Bolivia and the mightyAmazon, my story is strictly accurate.

I trust that Chapter XXIII, giving facts aboutsocial life in La Paz and Bolivia, with an account ofthat most marvellous of all sheets of fresh water inthe known world, Lake Titicaca, will be found ofgeneral interest.

But vast stretches of this strange wild land ofBolivia are a closed book to the world, for they havenever yet been explored; nor do we know aught of thetribes of savages who dwell therein, as far removedfrom civilization and from the benign influence ofChristianity as if they were inhabitants of anotherplanet. I have ventured to send my heroes to thisland of the great unknown, and have at the sametime endeavoured to avoid everything that mightborder on sensationalism.

In conclusion, my boys, if spared I hope to takeyou out with me again to Bolivia in another book, and together we may have stranger adventures thanany I have yet told.

THE AUTHOR.

CHAPTER I-ON THE BANKS OF THE GREAT AMAZON

Miles upon miles from the banks of the mightyriver, had you wandered far away in theshade of the dark forest that clothed thevalleys and struggled high over the mountain-topsthemselves, you would have heard the roar and theboom of that great buzz-saw.

As early as six of a morning it would start, or soonafter the sun, like a huge red-hot shot, had leapt upfrom his bed in the glowing east behind the greeneryof the hills and woods primeval.

To a stranger coming from the south towards theAmazon-great queen of all the rivers on earth-andnot knowing he was on the borders of civilization, thesound that the huge saw made would have beendecidedly alarming.

He would have stopped and listened, and listening, wondered. No menagerie of wild beasts could havesent forth a noise so loud, so strange, so persistent!Harsh and low at times, as its great teeth tore throughthe planks of timber, it would change presently into adull but dreadful basso profundo, such as might havebeen emitted by antediluvian monsters in the agoniesof death or torture, rising anon into a shrill howl orshriek, then subsiding once again into a steady gratingroar, that seemed to shake the very earth.

Wild beasts in this black forest heard the sounds, and crept stealthily away to hide themselves in theircaves and dens; caymans or alligators heard them too,as they basked in the morning sunshine by lakeletor stream-heard them and crawled away into caves,or took to the water with a sullen plunge that causedthe finny inhabitants to dart away in terror to everypoint of the compass.

"Up with the tree, lads. Feed him home," criedJake Solomons loudly but cheerily. "Our pet ishungry this morning. I say, Bill, doesn't she look abeauty. Ever see such teeth, and how they shine, too, in the red sunlight. Guess you never did, Bill.I say, what chance would the biggest 'gator that evercrawled have with Betsy here. Why, if Betsy gotone tooth in his hide she'd have fifty before youcould say 'Jerusalem', and that 'gator'd be cut in two.Tear away, Betsy! Grind and groan and growl, mylass! Have your breakfast, my little pet; why, yourvoice is sweetest music to my ear. I say, Bill, don'tthe saw-dust fly a few? I should smile!

"But see," he continued, "yonder come the darkieswith our matutinal. Girls and boys with baskets, and I can see the steam curling up under Chloe's armfrom the great flagon she is carrying! Look how herwhite eyes roll, and her white teeth shine as she smilesher six-inch smile! Good girl is Chloe. She knowswe're hungry, and that we'll welcome her. Wo, now,Betsy! Let the water off, Bill. Betsy has had hersnack, and so we'll have ours."

There was quietness now o'er hill and dell andforest-land.

And this tall Yankee, Jake Solomons, who wasfully arrayed in cotton shirt and trousers, his brownarms bare to the shoulder, stretched his splendidlyknit but spare form with a sort of a yawn.

"Heigho, Bill!" he said. "I'm pining forbreakfast. Aren't you?"

"That I am," replied Burly Bill with his broadestgrin.

Jake ran to the open side of the great saw-mill.Three or four strides took him there.

"Ah! Good-morning, Chloe, darling! Morning,Keemo! Morning, Kimo!"

"Mawning, sah!" This was a chorus.

"All along dey blessed good-foh-nuffin boys I nocome so queeck," said Chloe.

"Stay, stay, Chloe," cried Jake, "never let yourangry passions rise. 'Sides, Chloe, I calculate suchlanguage ain't half-proper. But how glittering yourcheeks are, Chloe, how white your teeth! There! yousmile again. And that vermilion blouse sets off yourdark complexion to a nicety, and seems just made forit. Chloe, I would kiss you, but the fear of makingBill jealous holds me back."

Burly Bill shook with laughter. Bill was wellnamed the Burly. Though not so tall as Jake, hisframe was immense, though perhaps there was a littlemore adipose tissue about it than was necessary in aclimate like this. But Bill's strength was wonderful.See him, axe in hand, at the foot of a tree! How thechips fly! How set and determined the man's face, while the great beads of sweat stand like pearls onhis brow!



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