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Updated: May 22, 2025
Shortly to tell it, her tree-bole floated with her past the outer ness of Green Eyot, and came ashore in that same sandy bight where erst she was wonted to make her body ready for the water.
What Kaa did not know about the Middle Jungle, as they call it, the life that runs close to the earth or under it, the boulder, burrow, and the tree-bole life, might have been written upon the smallest of his scales.
About a dozen similar pieces were laid across, and these held the wound together; after which he placed a couple of larger slips along the wound at right angles to the shorter pieces. He then dressed and seated himself upon a tree-bole, and once more became buried in his gloomy reflections. It was not of his love that next he thought, but of his wretched predicament.
From behind every tree-bole they will watch you; you feel it, but you never, never quite see them.
I am speaking now of that arrogant jungle, moist and hot, where life is in full ferment, and where the rubber vine grows and thrives; where you go knee-deep in slush and catch at a tree-bole to prevent yourself going farther, cling, sweating at every pore and shivering like a dog, feeling for firmer ground and finding it, only to be led on to another quagmire.
When the little scolding bunch of fur, close pressed to the branch, disappeared, preacher and audience were fast asleep, the old officer's strong-cut head pillowed on his arm, the lama's thrown back against the tree-bole, where it showed like yellow ivory.
Now the old fellow was so helplessly drunk that he could not walk: instead, he sat upon the ground, and leaned against a tree-bole. "This is a very disgusting state for you to be in so early in the morning," observed Jurgen. "But Silenus is always drunk," the bald-headed man responded, with a dignified hiccough. "So here is another one of you! Well, and why are you always drunk, Silenus?"
It has its buttercups and its daisies; the grass is tall there; the cart-horses browse there; cords of hair, on which linen is drying, traverse the spaces between the trees and force the passer-by to bend his head; one walks over this uncultivated land, and one's foot dives into mole-holes. In the middle of the grass one observes an uprooted tree-bole which lies there all verdant.
In the dusk of the beech-grove where they had landed, he could barely distinguish her features; but her eyes shone on him, and he heard her quick breathing as he stooped to help her to her feet. "Oh, how beautiful it's the only thing better than a good gallop!" She leaned against a tree-bole, panting a little, and loosening her furs.
Infinity waited a-tiptoe, tense for the coming miracle, and against this vast repression, her grief dwindled into irrelevancy: the leaves whispered comfort; each tree-bole hid chuckling fauns. Matthiette laughed.
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