All down his back his tangled hair
Flowed wild, unkempt; his head was bare;
A leopard’s skin was o’er him flung,
Around his neck huge beads were hung,
And in his hand—ah! there’s the rub—
He carried a portentous club,
Which Abdul’s eye had caught, you see,
And this is why he climbed the tree.
The dervish stopped and gazed around,
Then flung himself upon the ground.