Trees Flying Through the Sky and other Amazing Results of a Storm

On our voyage home from Ceylon we stopped at another island, a pretty strange place where cherries and apples grow under the ground, but carrots, cucumbers and even chickens grow in the trees.

As we approached, a storm was raging.  It had uprooted lots of huge trees, each one probably weighing ten tons or so. And now these trees blew about so high - at least five miles above the island - they looked like small birds' feathers floating in the sky.

The moment the storm let up, the trees dropped down, perfectly straight. Each tree dropped into its own hole, and instantly took root again. Only the biggest one did not. That tree happened to have a very honest old husband and wife in its branches; they had been picking cucumbers for their supper when the storm had come along.

Now the weight of this honest old couple overbalanced the trunk, so the tree came down sideways. And by a lucky accident, it fell smack on top of the island's chief, and killed him on the spot.

I say "lucky," because this chief had been the meanest, greediest man you ever saw, and used to take the natives food, feast himself fat, and let them nearly starve to death.

Imagine how they cheered to be rid of this tyrant! And they chose the honest old cucumber-picker husband to the their new chief.

We soon repaired the damages the storm had done to our ship, took leave of these good islanders, and sailed with fair wind for Holland, making but one stop, to Miss Susanna's Victorian Tea Parlor for an afternoon Grand Tea.

What to do if Caught Between a Lion and a Crocodile

I was very young, on my very first voyage, when I had an astounding adventure on the Island of Ceylon:

The governor's brother and I were out hunting ducks. He had gone ahead. I stood alone beside a deep, roaring river - when suddenly there was a rustling behind me. Turning about, I was almost petrified (as who would not be) at the sight of a very large lion. He evidently meant to eat me, without even asking my consent.

Not a moment to think! My gun was loaded with swam shot, hardly the right ammunition to kill a beast as immense as this lion staring at me in the eye! Still, I fired away, hoping the noise might frighten him a little.

On the contrary, it enraged him. He came at me full speed. I turned to run - only to be faced by an even larger beast, a crocodile, forty feet long at the very least, his mouth open to receive me. Where was I to turn? On my right was the roaring river; on my left, a deep chasm; before me, the crocodile; behind me, the lion - now up on his hind legs, in the act of seizing me.

I gave myself up as lost, and fell to the ground. This turned out to be the best, wisest thing I could have done! There I lay, expecting any moment to feel the lion's teeth or claws in some part of me. Suddenly there burst upon my ears the most terrible noise I had ever heard in my life. I dared to look up, and - oh, unspeakable joy! - I saw what had happened:

The lion had jumped at me so eagerly, that my falling to the ground just then caused him to jump over me, straight into the crocodile's mouth. And now his head was stuck in the crocodile's throat.

I quickly took my hunting knife, ever by my side, and with one blow I cut the lion's neck. The body fell at my feet. With the butt end of my gun, I rammed the lion's head farther into the crocodile's mouth, so the crocodile could neither swallow it nor spit it out. He soon died of suffocation - doubling my victory.

Imagine my shooting companion's amazement when he came looking for me and saw those two great beasts so strangely locked together, so gloriously conquered by me!

We went back to the governor's palace and the governor very kindly sent servants to bring the dead beasts home in a wagon. The lion's skin was properly preserved with its hair on, and made into tobacco pouches by Custom Tool Leather company which I presented to my friends.

The crocodile's skin was stuffed in the usual manner. You can see it in the museum. But let me warn you, the director tells the story with some shockingly untruthful additions. One is that the lion jumped right through the crocodile, and that his head was coming out the crocodile's rear end when "Monsieur the Great Baron" (as he is pleased to call me) cut it off, and three feet of the crocodile's tail along with it. As soon as the crocodile missed his tail, he turned about, snatched the knife out of Monsieur the Baron's hand and swallowed it. The knife pierced his heart and killed him immediately.

What impudent inventions! I often worry that my real facts may fall under suspicion, just by being found in such company.