212 LODGES IN THE WILDERNESS 



green and bladdery, alive and squirming. The 

 situation had got beyond me ; words could not 

 express my over-wrought feelings. 



The pneumoras — several hundred of them 

 — impatient after their long confinement and 

 irritated at having been shaken about on the 

 journey, climbed out of their respective pri- 

 sons and began crawling about over the face 

 of the rock, endeavouring to escape. The 

 three boys, aided by Flora and Fauna, shep- 

 herded them back with twigs plucked for the 

 occasion. I searched the remotest fastnesses 

 of memory for a precedent to guide me, but 

 could find none. Hendrick and the others 

 looked on gravely. Had anyone laughed, 

 murder would most likely have been com- 

 mitted. By my direction the shepherding 

 operations were suspended and the ghoonyas 

 fully restored to liberty. 



Obviously, something had to be done. So 

 as soon as my feelings were sufficiently under 

 control I called up the interpreter and made 

 a speech. I declared with emphasis that I did 

 not want these ghoonyas; that I had been 

 anxious to secure only a few specimens — 

 half-a-dozen at most, but that I really and 

 truly did not require or desire any more. 

 However (and here is where I made a blunder) 



