“Yes, and as scentless,” replied the Major; “they are all very brilliant in appearance; but one modest English violet is, to my fancy, worth them all.”

“I agree with you,” replied Swinton; “but still you must acknowledge that this country is beautiful beyond description,—­these grassy meads so spangled with numerous flowers, and so broken by the masses of grove and forest!  Look at these aloes blooming in profusion, with their coral tufts—­in England what would they pay for such an exhibition?—­and the crimson and lilac hues of these poppies and amaryllis blended together:  neither are you just in saying that there is no scent in this gay parterre.  The creepers which twine up those stately trees are very sweetly scented; and how picturesque are the twinings of those vines upon the mimosas.  I can not well imagine the garden of Eden to have been more beautiful.”

“And in another respect there is a resemblance,” said the Major, laughing; “the serpent is in it”

“Yes, I grant that,” replied Swinton.

“Well, I can feel no real pleasure without security; if I am to be ever on the alert, and turning my eyes in every direction, that I may not tread upon a puff adder, or avoid the dart of the cobra capella, I can feel little pleasure in looking at the rich hues of those flowers which conceal them.  As I said before, give me the violet and the rose of England, which I can pick and smell in security.”

“I agree with you, Major,” said Alexander; “but,” continued he, laughing, “we must make allowance for Swinton, as a naturalist.  A puff adder has a charm for him, because it adds one more to the numerous specimens to be obtained; and he looks upon these flowers as a botanist, rejoicing as he adds to his herbal, or gathers seeds and bulbs to load his wagon with.  You might as well find fault with a husbandman for rejoicing in a rich harvest.”

“Or with himself, for being so delighted at the number and the variety of the animals which fall to his rifle,” replied Swinton, smiling.  “There I have you, Major.”

“I grant it,” replied the Major; “but what is that in the river—­the back of a hippopotamus?”

“No, it is the back of an elephant, I should rather think; but the reeds are so high, that it is difficult to ascertain.  There may be a herd bathing in the river, nothing more likely.”

“Let us stop the caravan; the creaking of these wheels would drive away any thing,” replied the Major; “we will then ride forward and see what it is.  It is not more than half a mile from us.”

“Be it so,” replied Swinton.  “Omrah, get the rifles, and tell Bremen to come here.  Now, Major, is it to be a regular hunt, or only a passing shot at them; for I now perceive through my glass that they are elephants?”

“Well, I think a passing shot will be best; for if we are to hunt, we must send a party on the opposite side of the river, and that will be a tedious affair.”