The seats on either side held three passengers, and there was a stool
in the middle, like the one in the Lord Mayor's coach, on which four
people sat, back to bask.
Soon after we drew up to rest the horses at a little posada, kept by
two Germans, called 'Half-way House,' and seven miles more brought us
to a rich and well-cultivated farm belonging to Mr. Hermann, where we
stopped to change horses.
It was six o'clock in the evening when we reached the Bio-Bio, a wide
shallow river, at the entrance of the town of Concepcion; it had to be
crossed in a ferry-boat, carriage and all, and as it was after hours,
we had some difficulty in finding any one to take us over. At last, in
consideration of a little extra pay, six men consented to undertake
the job, and having set a square-sail, to keep us from being carried
down the river by the current, they punted us over with long poles.
Sometimes there was nine feet of water beneath us, but oftener not
more than four or five. The boat could not get close to the opposite
shore, and it was a great business to get the carriage out and the
horses harnessed, in some eighteen inches of water. First the carriage
stuck in the sand, and then the horses refused to move, but after a
great deal of splashing, and an immense display of energy in the way
of pulling, jerking, shrieking, shouting--and, I am afraid,
swearing--we reached the bank, emerged from the water, struggled
through some boggy ground, and were taken at full gallop through the
streets of the town, until we reached the Hotel Comercio, where we
found comfortable rooms and a nice little dinner awaiting us.
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