This place while nothing but a collection of
dilapidated adobe buildings, had an air of romance about it which was
missing in the newer town. Ahrenburg had seen its day. Many years ago
it was a busy mining camp, and the hope is entertained by the faithful
who still reside in its picturesque adobe homes that it will come back
with renewed vigour. Here at Ahrenburg I met a character who added
greatly to the interest of my stay. He was a gigantic, raw-boned
Frenchman, at that time engaged in the construction of a motor boat;
but a miner, a sailor, and a soldier of fortune in many ways, one who
had pried into many of the hidden corners of the country and had a
graphic way of describing what he had seen. I was his guest until late
that night, and was entertained royally on what humble fare he had to
offer. We both intended to renew our acquaintance in the morning, but
some prowling Mexicans near my boat, croaking frogs, and swarms of
mosquitos gave me a restless night. With the first glimmer of daylight
I was up, and half an hour later I was away on the flood.
This was my big day. The current was better than much of that above; I
was getting used to the heat, and, instead of idly drifting, I pulled
steadily at the oars. The river twisted back and forth in great loops
with the strong current, as is usual, always on the outside of the
loops, close to the overhanging banks. I would keep my boat in this
current, with a wary lookout over my shoulder for fallen trees and
sudden turns, which had a way of appearing when least expected.
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