Presently we had opened the capital city, which
seemed to me no more than a village set amid gardens, and Mr. Lambie
had come aboard and greeted me. He conveyed me to the best ordinary in
the town which stood over against the Court-house. Late in the
afternoon, just before the dark fell, I walked out to drink my fill of
the place.
You are to remember that I was a country lad who had never set foot
forth of Scotland. I was very young, and hot on the quest of new sights
and doings. As I walked down the unpaven street and through the narrow
tobacco-grown lanes, the strange smell of it all intoxicated me like
wine.
There was a great red sunset burning over the blue river and kindling
the far forests till they glowed like jewels. The frogs were croaking
among the reeds, and the wild duck squattered in the dusk. I passed an
Indian, the first I had seen, with cock's feathers on his head, and a
curiously tattooed chest, moving as light as a sleep-walker. One or two
townsfolk took the air, smoking their long pipes, and down by the water
a negro girl was singing a wild melody. The whole place was like a mad,
sweet-scented dream to one just come from the unfeatured ocean, and
with a memory only of grim Scots cities and dour Scots hills.
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