Three legionnaires walking through the desert under a baking sun. They were
fully equipped with enough dehydrated water tablets for days, and food aplenty.
On the shimmering horizon mirages came and went and came again, visions of swimming
pools attended by dusky maidens, stalls full of ice-cream, sorbets, freshly-whipped
smoothies of every conceivable flavour. But to no avail, the legionnaires did
not crack, but kept marching solidly on.
Suddenly one of them froze, "Psssst" said he. His companions halted,
and strained their eyes to where the first legionnaire was pointing. "Le
voila", said he, "Regardez, mes amis, isn't that a bacon tree on the
horizon" ? And sure enough, there it stood, proudly and defiant in the
middle of the desert, a true bacon tree. Slowly they crept forward towards the
mystery object afar off. Inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre, until they
were within a stone's throw of the bacon tree. Even nearer they crept, and suddenly,
a shot rang out, dropping one of the legionnaires in his tracks. The other two
returned fire, and gave first aid to their wounded companion. Even as they bandaged
him, and poured water over his face, they could hear his faint voice: "That
was no bacon tree," he gasped, "that was a ham bush."