Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

26oCARAVAN DAYSto face.Whether he is hauling buckets of waterup a slippery bank in the rain, or walking threemiles after dark to an adjacent village for forgottenletters, or waiting. ... He has greatof timepower of waiting patiently for any lengthwhen there are complicated enquiries about acamp, or the horses have gone to be shod and theblacksmith isaway at his dinner, or when onemember of the crew has lost himself on a shortcut or gone to ask the way. He knows that thereisalways plenty of time, and sitting here indefinitelyis simply part of the game.It is a frame of mind of keen enjoyment in thesmallest things. The caravanner cannot takethem dully for granted as he was wont to do.He has lost that stupid familiarity. It is as if hegets a fresh start and sees things as they reallyare. He appreciates what a beautiful and simplecontrivance a corkscrew is : he can pause to begrateful:to the inventor of the tea-infuser herejoices in the happy accident by which there arestackyards about farms and disused quarries bymoorland roads. He wonders at the great labourand ingenuity of the makers of maps. He delightsin the rumble of wheels and the jingling of harnessAnd he has alland the clopping of horses' feet.sorts of fine sensations, which he has rediscovered,