The only incidents that occurred in this land of apathy were occasioned
by our guide, who generally lost his way, and spent some hours in
finding the vans at the halting-place in the evening; this was not
improving to the temper, and of course I laid the blame upon Cyprus
generally, and abused the island almost to the superlative degree
adopted by the "newspaper correspondents."
The 17th February was a day of considerable bodily exercise, as we
arrived at a series of watercourses as deep and broad as military
trenches for sapping up to a fortress. We had no sooner levelled an
embankment, and with great difficulty dragged the vans across, than we
encountered a new and similar obstruction. At length we arrived within
half a mile of the large village Arshia, which, being well irrigated,
opposed a perfect network of barriers in the shape of artificial
water-channels. The oxen became disheartened, and the pair which drew
the blue van driven by our favourite Georgi determined to strike work
just as he was applying the sharp driving prick to their posteriors in
ascending a steep bank, through which we had cut a passage from the deep
water-course beneath. Instead of keeping a straight course, these
pig-headed bullocks made a sharp turn to the right up the incline. Down
went one upon its knees in rage and despair! while round went the other
in an opposite direction: crash went the pole in two pieces! and the
blue van, having vainly endeavoured to right itself like a lady about to
faint when no one is at hand to save her, tottered for a moment, and
turned over with a crash that betokened general destruction.
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