"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