A MARCH ALONG THE COAST. 109 



specimen so promptly and in such favourable cir- 

 cumstances. 



A leisurely breakfast alone, with the sun climb- 

 ing ; then the writing of notes, a little reading, 

 and perhaps a stroll to the village or along the 

 top of the ridge. At the heat of noon a siesta 

 with a cool cocoanut at my elbow. The view 

 was beautiful on all sides ; our great tree full 

 of birds ; the rising and dying winds in the palms 

 like the gathering oncoming rush of the rains. 

 From mountain to mountain sounded the wild, 

 far-carrying ululations of the natives, conveying 

 news or messages across the wide jungle. Towards 

 sunset I wandered out in the groves, enjoying the 

 many bright flowers, the tall, sweet grasses, and 

 the cocoa-palms against the sky. Piles of cocoa- 

 nuts lay on the ground, covered each with a 

 leaf plaited in a peculiarly individual manner to 

 indicate ownership. Small boys, like little black 

 imps, clung naked halfway up the slim trunks of 

 the palms, watching me bright- eyed above the 

 undergrowth. In ah 1 directions, crossing and re- 

 crossing, ran a maze of beaten paths. Each led 

 somewhere, but it would require the memory of 

 well, of a native, to keep all their destinations 

 in mind. 



I used to follow some of them to their ending 



