CHAPTER XVII 



TREE CLIMBING 



Do not give dalliance too much the rein 



The Tempest 



When out early one morning a green oasis tempted 

 me to leave the sandy waste and ramble in among the 

 depths of the aloes, creep in and out of the festoons 

 of armo, and hunt for anything that might be astir. 

 Choosing the part where the bushes seemed most 

 willing to admit us, we crept in — a hunter and I — he 

 of the Cook's Guide turn of mind. Parting the creepers 

 as we went, we found it easier than we had thought to 

 penetrate the density. 



On almost every branch a chameleon lay basking, 

 dead to all appearances save for the eternal wake- 

 fulness of their eyes. In a glade where the grass 

 grew high there was a whirr and a rush. Some small 

 animal was startled. But we saw nothing. The 

 hunter prepared to account for it, but I would have 

 none of it, and silenced him with a look. I was there 

 to read the book of the wild for myself, not to have it 

 read aloud. 



A tree snake dropped from his low perch on a thorn 

 bush, and wriggled away in the thicket. Two dis- 

 tinct lines of brown marked him, and that was all 

 I saw. He gave me " creeps," and I turned away in 



