“I am no sage,” said Yoomy, “what would my lord Media do?” “What would _you_ do, Babbalanja,” said Media. “Mohi, what you?” asked the philosopher. “And what would the company do?” added Mohi. “Now, though these evils pose us all,” said Babbalanja, “there lately died in Verdanna, one, who set about curing them in a humane and peaceable way, waving war and bloodshed. That man was Konno. Under a huge caldron, he kept a roaring fire.” “Well, Azzageddi, how could that answer his purpose?” asked Media. “Nothing better, my lord. His fire boiled his bread-fruit; and so convinced were his countrymen, that he was well employed, that they almost stripped their scanty orchards to fill his caldron.” “Konno was a knave,” said Mohi. “Your pardon, old man, but that is only known to his ghost, not to us. At any rate he was a great man; for even assuming he cajoled his country, no common man could have done it.” “Babbalanja,” said Mohi, “my lord has been pleased to pronounce Verdanna crazy; now, may not her craziness arise from the irritating, tantalizing practices of Dominora?” “Doubtless, Braid-Beard, many of the extravagances of Verdanna, are in good part to be ascribed to the cause you mention; but, to be impartial, none the less does Verdanna essay to taunt and provoke Dominora; yet not with the like result. Perceive you, Braid-Beard, that the trade-wind blows dead across this strait from Dominora, and not from Verdanna? Hence, when King Bello’s men fling gibes and insults, every missile hits; but those of Verdanna are blown back in its teeth: her enemies jeering her again and again.” “King Bello’s men are dastards for that,” cried Yoomy. “It shows neither sense, nor spirit, nor humanity,” said Babbalanja. “All wide of the mark,” cried Media. “What is to be done for Verdanna?” “What will she do for herself?” said Babbalanja. “Philosopher, you are an extraordinary sage; and since sages should be seers, reveal Verdanna’s future.” “My lord, you will ever find true prophets, prudent; nor will any prophet risk his reputation upon predicting aught concerning this land. The isles are Oro’s. Nevertheless, he who doctors Verdanna aright, will first medicine King Bello; who in some things is, himself a patient, though he would fain be a physician. However, my lord, there is a demon of a doctor in Mardi, who at last deals with these desperate cases. He employs only pills, picked off the Conroupta Quiancensis tree.” “And what sort of a vegetable is that?” asked Mohi. “Consult the botanists,” said Babbalanja. CHAPTER XLIX. They Draw Nigh To Porpheero; Where They Behold A Terrific Eruption Gliding away from Verdanna at the turn of the tide, we cleared the strait, and gaining the more open lagoon, pointed our prows for Porpheero, from whose magnificent monarchs my lord Media promised himself a glorious reception.