An Arab said to him, "Yakob, if we had a reed, and were to
make a melodious sound, those flowers, the color of heaven, would open
and shut their mouths."
Once, Mungo Park (the once too often of telling this story can never
come) sat all day,--without food, under a tree. The night threatened to
be very pitiless; for the wind arose, and there was every sign of a
heavy rain; and wild beasts prowled around. But about sunset, as he was
preparing to pass the night in the branches of the tree, a woman,
returning from the labors of the field, perceived how weary and
dejected he was, and, taking up his saddle and bridle, invited him to
follow her. She conducted him to her hut, where she lighted a lamp,
spread a mat on the floor, and bade him welcome. Then she went out, and
presently returning with a fine fish, broiled it on the embers, and set
his supper before him. The rites of hospitality thus performed toward a
stranger in distress, that _savage_ angel, pointing to the mat, and
assuring him that he might sleep there without fear, commanded the
females of her family, who all the while had stood gazing on him in
fixed astonishment, to resume their spinning.
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