Banana and plantain trees were burdened with great bunches of ripening fruit.

And huge, golden melons of the papaia, ready for the eating, globuled directly from the slender-trunked trees not one-tenth the girth of the fruits they bore.

And, for Jerry, most delightful of all, there was the gurgle and plash of a brooklet that pursued its invisible way over mossy stones under a garmenture of tender and delicate ferns.

No conservatory of a king could compare with this wild wantonness of sun-generous vegetation.
Maddened by the sound of the water, Jerry had first to endure an embracing and hugging from the boy, who, squatted on his hams, rocked back and forth and mumbled a strange little crooning song.

And Jerry, lacking articulate speech, had no way of telling him of the thirst of which he was perishing.
Next, Lamai tied him securely with a sennit cord about the neck and untied the cords that bit into his legs.