A most unsavory odor resulted from the stirring of the mud; but a
greater inconvenience was the tendency of the raft to lurch.
Holding on to the rope with one hand, I instinctively pulled upon
it to maintain my equilibrium when I felt myself toppling, with the
result that the raft moved backward, and I had to begin my punting
again. Fortunately, the width of the moat was little more than
thrice the length of my crazy craft, in spite of whose instability
I succeeded in reaching the opposite side.
Here, however, I found that my difficulties were by no means over.
The water was low in the moat, and the bank, perfectly free from
vegetation, rose almost vertically to a height of six or eight
feet. On a moonlit night I must have been seen if the sentry had
glanced in my direction; dark as it was, I feared it was not so
dark but that my moving shape might be descried. I waited: not
hearing the sentry's footsteps, I began to fear the worst; but
finding after a time that no alarm had been given, and that all was
still about me, I first fastened the coil of bast I had brought on
my shoulders to the end of the rope where it was knotted about the
raft, and then began to clamber up the bank, somewhat incommoded by
having to keep a hold of the bast with one hand.
Careful as I was, I yet dislodged one or two clods of earth as I
climbed, which fell with a dull splash into the water. I went cold
with apprehension, and clung to the face of the bank, not daring to
make a movement.
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