with their staves, and charging upon each other with their noses.  But soon after, being loudly called upon by Tammaro and his people; who all this while had been looking on; being loudly called upon, I say, to clap their hands on the trunk, they again rushed for their respective branches; and it so happened, that, one and all, they changed places; but still cried out, ’Here it is; here it is!’ ‘Peace! peace! ye silly blind men,’ said Tammaro.  ’Will ye without eyes presume to see more sharply than those who have them?  The tree is too much for us all.  Hence! depart from the valley.’”

“An admirable story,” cried Media.  “I had no idea that a mere mortal, least of all a philosopher, could acquit him-self so well.  By my scepter, but it is well done!  Ha, ha! blind men round a banian!  Why, Babbalanja, no demi-god could surpass it.  Taji, could you?”

“But, Babbalanja, what under the sun, mean you by your blind story!” cried Mohi.  “Obverse, or reverse, I can make nothing out of it.”

“Others may,” said Babbalanja.  “It is a polysensuum, old man.”

“A pollywog!” said Mohi.

Chapter XII
Landing To Visit Hivohitee The Pontiff, They Encounter An
Extraordinary Old Hermit; With Whom Yoomy Has A Confidential
Interview, But Learns Little

Gliding on, suddenly we spied a solitary Islander putting out in his canoe from a neighboring cove.

Drawing near, the stranger informed us, that he was just from the face of the great Pontiff, Hivohitee, who, having dismissed his celestial guests, had retired to his private sanctuary.  Upon this, Media resolved to land forthwith, and under the guidance of Mohi, proceed inland, and pay a visit to his Holiness.

Quitting the beach, our path penetrated into the solitudes of the groves.  Skirting the way were tall Casaurinas, a species of cypress, standing motionless in the shadows, as files of mutes at a funeral.  But here and there, they were overrun with the adventurous vines of the Convolvulus, the Morning-glory of the Tropics, whose tendrils, bruised by the twigs, dropped milk upon the dragon-like scales of the trees.

This vine is of many varieties.  Lying perdu, and shunning the garish sun through the day, one species rises at night with the stars; bursting forth in dazzling constellations of blossoms, which close at dawn.  Others, slumbering through the darkness, are up and abroad with their petals, by peep of morn; and after inhaling its breath, again drop their lids in repose.  While a third species, more capricious, refuse to expand at all, unless in the most brilliant sunshine, and upon the very tops of the loftiest trees.  Ambitious flowers! that will not blow, unless in high places, with the bright day looking on and admiring.

Here and there, we passed open glades in the woods, delicious with the incense of violets.  Balsamic ferns, stirred by the breeze, fanned all the air with aromas.  These glades were delightful.