"Where on earth have you been?" I asked, noting that his clothes were
torn and covered with wet moss.
"Up the tallest of those palm trees, Quatermain. Saw an Arab climbing
one of them with a rope and got another Arab to teach me the trick. It
isn't really difficult, though it looks alarming."
"What in the name of goodness----" I began.
"Oh!" he interrupted, "my ruling passion. Looking through the glasses
I thought I caught sight of an orchid growing near the crown, so went
up. It wasn't an orchid after all, only a mass of yellow pollen. But I
learned something for my pains. Sitting in the top of that palm I saw
the /Maria/ working out from under the lee of the island. Also, far
away, I noted a streak of smoke, and watching it through the glasses,
made out what looked to me uncommonly like a man-of-war steaming
slowly along the coast. In fact, I am sure it was, and English too.
Then the mist came up and I lost sight of them."
"My word!" I said, "that will be the /Crocodile/. What I told our
host, Hassan, was not altogether bunkum.
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