As this book is to be a work of narrative and adventure, and not one of argument and discussion, I shall touch but very lightly upon those subjects which might lead to the latter, while I endeavor to give as much variety and as much fullness of detail as possible to the former.
That argument and discussion may arise from portions of what I advance is very probable; but, if so, it will be better to enter upon such in another form than this. Readers very naturally expect to be entertained, as well as, perchance, instructed in what a voyager or traveler puts before them. Long, prosy dissertations are seldom wanted. All that most people require is a truthful report of personal doings in strange lands, and a faithful record of incidents, discoveries, and interesting events connected with them.
Such, then, is the task I have taken in hand, with the hope that a ready excuse will be granted for all those imperfections necessarily consequent upon the mode and manner of my carrying on the work in which I was engaged. I pledge myself as to the literal accuracy of what I state, and my readers will be able to see, as they move onward with me through my narrative, how difficult it was—alone, and with no other pair of hands, no other mind, no other thought, sense, or perception but my own—to record, day by day, the occurrences that came under my eye.
In addition to this, I had to make all the observations—scientific, geographical, and otherwise—by myself, and this, too, with a knowledge self-acquired, and with instruments so few, and most of them so imperfect, till rectified by myself, that my labors were increased many fold. Thus, in the following pages, let truth, variety of incident, and a faithful report of discovery and adventure be alone expected. Elegance of style and diction must not be sought for.
As it will be well to avoid, as much as possible, breaking in upon the thread of my narrative elsewhere, I here give some par