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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

The canal before us
had evidently been dug out by man at some remote period of the world's
history, and the results of his digging still remained in the shape of
the raised banks that had no doubt once formed towing-paths. Except here
and there, where they had been hollowed out by the water or fallen in,
these banks of stiff binding clay were at a uniform distance from each
other, and the depth of the stream also appeared to be uniform. Current
there was little or none, and, as a consequence, the surface of the
canal was choked with vegetable growth, intersected by little paths
of clear water, made, I suppose, by the constant passage of waterfowl,
iguanas, and other vermin. Now, as it was evident that we could not
proceed up the river, it became equally evident that we must either try
the canal or else return to the sea. We could not stop where we were,
to be baked by the sun and eaten up by the mosquitoes, till we died of
fever in that dreary marsh.
"Well, I suppose that we must try it," I said; and the others assented
in their various ways--Leo, as though it were the best joke in the
world; Job, in respectful disgust; and Mahomed, with an invocation to
the Prophet, and a comprehensive curse upon all unbelievers and their
ways of thought and travel.


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