When I looked up—luckily caught in the shrubs—an enormous engine was towering over my head, the grid-like rails of the cow-catcher looking ominous and weird above me. The splintered platform of the trolley-car was rushing down the mountain-side, and our iron wheels were running off in different directions. It was a marvel we were not all killed.
It had happened in this wise.
As we turned a sharp corner an engine suddenly bore down on us—one of those great black, high American locomotives, neither varnished nor painted. The engineers, accustomed to the ominous sound, luckily heard it before it was quite upon us. Hence, I was violently dragged from what, in another second, would have been instantaneous death. The natives all jumped off in some wonderful manner, also being accustomed to the sound; but our trolley-car was smashed to smithereens.
It was a ghastly experience. By the time I regained my equilibrium, and saw the horrible accident to our frail little carriage and learnt the awful danger we had just come through, I realised that I had just experienced one of the most perilous moments of my life.
I should have sat there oblivious and literally courted death. We never know life’s real dangers till they are past, hence the courage of the battlefield or shipwreck. We only worry over what we but partially understand, hence the anxiety so often experienced before sitting in the dentist’s chair. Anticipation is so much sharper than realisation.
This was not my only narrow escape, for I was blessed with the proverbial three.
While visiting at the hacienda of the Governor of one of the Southern States we, one day after lunch, amused ourselves by shooting at bottles with the rifles of the rurales. After a time my hostess and I had wandered away for a stroll, and, as we returned, a ricochet bullet slid off a bottle and buried itself in my womanly “Adam’s apple.” A red streak ran down my collar, I opened my mouth and literally gasped, choking; everybody thought I was dead. But it proved nothing, and in a few minutes I could breathe and speak again and was washed clean.
My third escape was a terrible illness, contracted when riding in the tropics, and caused either by venomous bites or poisonous ivy. Never shall I forget the awful loneliness of those days and nights fighting with death in a Mexican hotel.
Of all the marvellous sights, the magnificent scenery, the many-coloured birds and flowers rivalling each other in gorgeousness, I need not write here. But, far beyond everything, the scene that left the deepest impression on my mind was in Southern Mexico. It was a visit to the Caves of Cacahuimilpa, one of the greatest wonders of the world, and the Governor of the State organised an expedition for me to see them. Numberless Indians from far and wide had joined my party, glad of the opportunity of going inside the wondrous caves which they hold in such superstitious dread. Candles were distributed to the company, which by now must have been swelled to something like a couple of hundred people. All was ready.
The descent was easy, for a roadway had been made; but it was really very impressive to see so many individuals solemnly marching two and two into impenetrable blackness to the strain of martial music. Each person carried a long lighted candle, but before we returned to our starting-point, six and a half hours later, these candles had nearly burnt out.