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Munro, John, 1849-1930

"Heroes of the Telegraph"

On landing, our first amusement was watching the
hundreds of large fish who lazily swam in shoals about the river. The
big canes on the further side hold numberless tortoises, we are told,
but see none, for just now they prefer taking a siesta. A little
further on, and what is this with large pink flowers in such abundance?-
-the oleander in full flower! At first I fear to pluck them, thinking
they must be cultivated and valuable; but soon the banks show a long
line of thick tall shrubs, one mass of glorious pink and green, set
there in a little valley, whose rocks gleam out blue and purple colours,
such as pre-Raphaelites only dare attempt, shining out hard and weird-
like amongst the clumps of castor-oil plants, cistus, arbor-vitae, and
many other evergreens, whose names, alas! I know not; the cistus is
brown now, the rest all deep and brilliant green. Large herds of cattle
browse on the baked deposit at the foot of these large crags. One or
two half-savage herdsmen in sheepskin kilts, etc., ask for cigars;
partridges whirr up on either side of us; pigeons coo and nightingales
sing amongst the blooming oleander. We get six sheep, and many fowls
too, from the priest of the small village, and then run back to
Spartivento and make preparations for the morning.


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