No one can _know_ till he has _felt_!" "But you are not old," said Nigel, wishing to turn the hermit's mind from a subject on which it seemed to dwell too constantly.
"Not in years," he returned; "but old, _very_ old in experience, and--stay, what was it that you were asking about?
Ah, the big game.
Well, we have plenty of that in some of the larger of the islands; we have the elephant, the rhinoceros, the tiger, the puma, that great man-monkey the orang-utan, or, as it is called here, the mias, besides wild pigs, deer, and innumerable smaller animals and birds--" The hermit stopped abruptly and sat motionless, with his head bent on one side, like one who listens intently.

Such an action is always infectious.

Nigel and the negro also listened, but heard nothing.
By that time the fire had died down, and, not being required for warmth, had not been replenished.

The faint light of the coming moon, which, however, was not yet above the horizon, only seemed to render darkness visible, so that the figure of Moses was quite lost in the shadow of the bush behind him, though the whites of his solemn eyes appeared like two glow-worms.
"Do you hear anything ?" asked Nigel in a low tone.
"Oars," answered the hermit.
"I hear 'im, massa," whispered the negro, "but das not su'prisin'-- plenty boats about." "This boat approaches the island, and I can tell by the sound that it is a large _prau_.

If it touches here it will be for the purpose of spending the night, and Malay boatmen are not always agreeable neighbours.