I was tossed
repeatedly from one side of the river to the other by sortie unseen
action and bumped against the rocks. I dashed through two or three
rapids and then came to a fall that almost deafened me with its roar.
I saw the water in front of me rushing together in big waves and then
jumping, leaving nothing but white foam to show where it disappeared. I
was drawn down and whirled and thrown about; how I came out I can't
tell. I do know, however, that I was puffing and trying to breathe.
It was quite a while before my head became clear after that shaking up;
but I kept right along.
"All that night I ran through another series of canyons until about two
o'clock in the morning, I saw in the moonlight what seemed to be a thin
string across the river, but on drawing closer, it proved to be the
bridge at Alcantara. It is a queer stone bridge, with two abutments and
one arch stretching across from one mountain to another, high up in the
air. There was no one out and I climbed up to the level of the bridge.
By calling and making a lot of noise, I succeeded in rousing the bridge
tender, who took me to the house of the Alcalde where all turned out
and welcomed me. I stopped there over Sunday and thoroughly enjoyed
myself. At night I went to a theatrical entertainment and was called on
for a speech, to which I responded to the best of my ability.
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