“The pen lies there,” he said, “no there—no there,” and vainly pointed where he could not see his own hand before him.
In this dilemma he bethought him of the stars: full of hope he quickly looked up: the heavens were as dark as the earth, not a star was to be seen.
“Shall I stay where I am,” he inquired of himself, “until the morning star shows itself? this gloom will not, it cannot last!” No there might be a chance of his being discovered, and who knew the inconveniences, that such a circumstance would bring.
“The wind—there is no wind.”
Appadocca wet the tip of his index finger with his saliva and turned it round.
“Ha! there is a breath,” he said, as he felt the chill, on the tip of the moistened finger. “The wind,” he argued, “blows at this hour in these regions, at a point varying from north-east to east. Following such a course, I shall assuredly open on the ocean: good.”
Appadocca now began to move along, keeping his index finger straight before him, and taking care to moisten it from time to time. He proceeded under the pilotage of his sense of feeling, and heard the drowsy dialogue of some Llaneros, as they lazily turned in their hammocks, in some neighbouring pen, and asked each other, if he did not hear some one walking.
The soft breeze still gently blew, and afforded the same means of directing himself. He tumbled here and there into the deep farrows which the heavy rains had made. The severe shocks and bruises which he received, as he fell into those holes, were quite sufficient to try the endurance of a strong man, much less that of one who was but just recovering from illness. Fortunately the point to be attained was not far off, and Appadocca, after having groped his way for an hour, heard the low moaning of the ocean before him. He approached as much as he thought he could with prudence, for he conjectured that the ground would be the more broken and torn, as it verged nearer toward the sea; and, finally, sat down on the grass to await the approach of morning.
The gray light which temporarily chases away darkness immediately before the advent of morning, to leave a moment afterward the gloom which it dispelled for a time, came. Careful not to lose one favourable moment, Appadocca immediately got up, and advanced in the direction in which the sea was rolling. Again, however, he was obliged to suspend his progress, for darkness again returned.