The philosophical mule
stood very still and looked on while the white coat and pantaloons were
changing to a dirty brown, and watched the captain as he waded out, to
the accompaniment of some very vigorous swear words.
Both the man and beast looked very doubtful of each other's future
actions, but the man shook the water off and bestowed some lively kicks
on his muleship which made him bounce into and through the mud-hole, and
the captain, still holding the bridle, followed after. Once across the
pool the captain set his marine eye on the only craft that had been too
much for his navigation and said "Vengeance should be mine," and in this
doubtful state of mind he cautiously mounted his beast again and fully
resolved to stick to the deck, hereafter, at all hazards, he hurried on
and soon overtook the train again, looking quite like a half drowned
rooster. The others laughed at him and told him they could find better
water a little way ahead, at the river, and they would see him safely
in. The captain was over his pet, and made as much fun as any of them,
declaring that he could not navigate such a bloody craft as that in such
limited sea room, for it was dangerous even when there was no gale to
speak of.
The ladies did not blush at the new and convenient costumes which they
saw in this country, and laughed a good deal over the way of traveling
they had to adopt. Any who were sick were carried in a kind of chair
strapped to the back of a native.
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