INDO-CHINA 59 
who could not speak a word of French, and as we had long 
since disposed of an interpreter it was amusing, to say the least, 
explaining to the fellow what we wanted done. My brother would 
draw lines on boards that needed sawing and planing. Then doors 
had to be made, hinges put on, and the box finally put together 
and nailed. All this was done expertly by our carpenter by the 
simple expedient of one of us making signs and suitable sounds to 
him. He worked from daylight until dark, seven days a week, and 
his wages then were the equivalent of fourpence a day. This was 
the standard rate, and as he could buy all the food he wanted in 
the local market for the equivalent of a penny, he was really quite 
well off. 
One day I had the opportunity of visiting another forestry sta- 
tion in the Col des Nuages at a higher altitude. A high-ranking 
official offered to take me there by car, so we set off to see what 
the prospects were of collecting different rarities. This man was an 
opium-smoker and after meals his servant prepared the opium 
pipe, which his master enjoyed while lying on a grass mat. It was 
not long before the pipe was put aside, and a loud snoring indi- 
cated that master was in the land of pleasant dreams. 
The day of our visit was very hot, particularly in the abandoned 
forestry station, which was hemmed in by trees and second growth 
that had encroached upon it. Our lunch was cold but in the 
French style was washed down with red wine. It needed only a 
few whifts of opium to send my friend off into a peaceful slumber. 
The combination of heat and wine were enough to make anyone 
feel like a siesta, but I was here to explore and it seemed to me 
to be much cooler in the forest than in the low-roofed forestry 
station. Before lying on his mat my companion found the heat 
so trying that he stripped to the waist, and thus attired in his 
trousers only, I left him asleep. After exploring the forest for a 
while, I returned to discuss the prospects of returning some day 
to do some collecting. A most remarkable sight greeted my eyes. 
My friend was still fast asleep, and his rather fat naked body 
was smothered with thirsty horse-flies all digging in their pro- 
boscises to get their fill of blood. These loathsome parasites 
normally give one a pronounced prick as they pierce one’s skin, 
but I doubt if the sleeper would have felt anything short of a 
