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Soon after, as the steamer still made its way onward in mid-stream, the river being very deep, as shown by the man busy in the chains with the lead, a flame of blue suddenly seemed to dart from a mangrove root, and then another and another, as some of the gorgeously-coloured kingfishers of the peninsula shot off along the surface up the stream.
Then a low murmur of admiration burst from the group as they saw a roseate cloud upon the top of the conical mountain begin to glow and burst into a dozen tints of purple and gold, shot with the most effulgent hues; and then slowly there was a glowing point to be seen just above the cloud, which circled it like a ring of gorgeously-coloured vapour; then slowly the light descended the mountain till from top to bottom it was aglow with purple and green and orange; and they turned sharply, to see that the sun was just rolling up over the smooth sea, spreading a pathway of light from the horizon to the isle.
The bare-headed Dasyptilus is one of the most singular parrots known; while the beautiful little long-tailed Charmosyna, and the great variety of gorgeously-coloured lories, have no parallels elsewhere. Among its sixteen kingfishers, it possesses the carious hook-billed Macrorhina, and a red and blue Tanysiptera, the most beautiful of that beautiful genus.
Our leathern bottles were here useless to us, for we had no lack of water; from every crevice in the rocks a clear crystal flood gushed forth, in which the gorgeously-coloured masses of stone were beautifully mirrored. After a very fatiguing ride of five hours we at length reached the ridge of the Anti-Libanus, where we found a khan, and allowed ourselves an hour's rest.
Mark could have sat down and watched the various gorgeously-coloured beauties for hours, but theirs was a business task, and he plodded on behind the major, both the monkey and the dog untiringly investigating everything they saw.
And, as it is foolish to offer anything except a poet's best as a specimen of his work, one has no alternative but to turn again to those gorgeously-coloured verses which begin: I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep Beyond the village which men still call Tyre, With leaden age o'ercargoed, dipping deep For Famagusta and the hidden sun That rings black Cyprus with a lake of fire; And all those ships were certainly so old Who knows how oft with squat and noisy gun, Questing brown slaves or Syrian oranges, The pirate Genoese Hell-raked them till they rolled Blood, water, fruit and corpses up the hold.
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