This was pleasant.
At last we arrived in the king’s country, and a small tent was assigned to me near the royal palace.
The country all round, although unfilled, was fertile and lovely in the extreme. Giant cocoa-palms waved on high, some parts of the landscape were wild orchards of the most delicious fruit, the hills were covered with purple heath, the valleys carpeted with grass and flowers of every shape and hue; while the birds that flitted among the boughs, and the monster butterflies that floated from one bright blossom to another, were lovelier than anything you could imagine in your happiest dreams.
To King Otakooma’s country bands of wandering Arabs occasionally came, and visited the king in his summer tent or his winter palace—for he had both. They came to solicit his assistance in the inhuman raids they made upon surrounding tribes of less warlike negroes.
Did I hope for escape through these Arabs? As well might the linnet beg the hawk to deliver her from the talons of the owl.
Chapter Six.
“Much I misdoubt this wayward boy,
Will one day work me more annoy.
I’ll watch him closer than before.”
Byron.
