THE HIGHLAND WILDERNESS 193 



fro a dozen times, from head to head, until finally it rises 

 with such a sweep that it passes far over the heads of the 

 opposite players and descends behind them. Then shrill, 

 rolling cries of good-humored triumph arise from the vic- 

 tors; and the game instantly begins again with fresh zest. 

 There are, of course, no such rules as in a specialized ball- 

 game of civilization; and I saw no disputes. There may 

 be eight or ten, or many more, players on each side. The 

 ball is never touched with the hands or feet, or with any- 

 thing except the top of the head. It is hard to decide 

 whether to wonder most at the dexterity and strength 

 with which it is hit or butted with the head, as it comes 

 down through the air, or at the reckless speed and skill 

 with which the players throw themselves headlong on the 

 ground to return the ball if it comes low down. Why 

 they do not grind off their noses I cannot imagine. Some 

 of the players hardly ever failed to catch and return the 

 ball if it came in their neighborhood, and with such a vig- 

 orous toss of the head that it often flew in a great curve 

 for a really astonishing distance. 



That night a pack-ox got into the tent in which Ker- 

 mit and I were sleeping, entering first at one end and then 

 at the other. It is extraordinary that he did not waken 

 us; but we slept undisturbed while the ox deliberately ate 

 our shirts, socks, and underclothes ! It chewed them into 

 rags. One of my socks escaped, and my undershirt, al- 

 though chewed full of holes, was still good for some weeks' 

 wear; but the other things were in fragments. 



In the morning Colonel Rondon arranged for us to have 

 breakfast over on the benches under the trees by the water- 

 fall, whose roar, lulled to a thunderous murmur, had been 



