The trees by which they were surrounded were varied and magnificent—­some of them rising clear up seventy and eighty feet without a branch, many of them had superb leafy crowns, under any one of which hundreds of men might have found shelter.  Others had trunks and limbs warped and intertwined with a wild entanglement of huge creepers, which hung in festoons and loops as if doing their best to strangle their supports, themselves being also encumbered, or adorned, with ferns and orchids, and delicate twining epiphytes.  A forest of smaller trees grew beneath this shade, and still lower down were thorny shrubs, rattan-palms, broad-leaved bushes, and a mass of tropical herbage which would have been absolutely impenetrable but for the native road or footpath along which they travelled.

“A most suitable abode for tigers, I should think,” remarked Nigel to the hermit, who walked in front of him—­for they marched in single file.  “Are there any in these parts?”

“Ay, plenty.  Indeed, it is because I don’t like sleeping in their company that I am so anxious to reach a village.”

“Are zey dangerows?” asked the professor, who followed close on Nigel.

“Well, they are not safe!” replied the hermit.  “I had an adventure with one on this very road only two years ago.”

“Indeed! vat vas it?” asked the professor, whose appetite for anecdote was insatiable.  “Do tell us about it.”

“With pleasure.  It was on a pitch-dark night that it occurred.  I had occasion to go to a neighbouring village at a considerable distance, and borrowed a horse from a friend——­”

“Anozer frond!” exclaimed the professor; “vy, Van der Kemp, zee country seems to be svarming vid your fronds.”

“I have travelled much in it and made many friends,” returned the hermit.  “The horse that I borrowed turned out to be a very poor one, and went lame soon after I set out.  Business kept me longer than I expected, and it was getting dark before I started to return.  Erelong the darkness became so intense that I could scarcely see beyond the horse’s head, and could not distinguish the path.  I therefore let the animal find his own way—­knowing that he would be sure to do so, for he was going home.  As we jogged along, I felt the horse tremble.  Then he snorted and came to a dead stop, with his feet planted firmly on the ground.  I was quite unarmed, but arms would have been useless in the circumstances.  Suddenly, and fortunately, the horse reared, and next moment a huge dark object shot close past my face—­so close that its fur brushed my cheek—­as it went with a heavy thud into the jungle on the other side.  I knew that it was a tiger and felt that my life, humanly speaking, was due to the rearing of the poor horse.”

“Are ve near to zee spote?” asked the professor, glancing from side to side in some anxiety.

“Not far from it!” replied the hermit, “but there is not much fear of such an attack in broad daylight and with so large a party.”