8 THE IMAGE OF WAE 



" Now I suppose you'll tell me that isn't wood- 

 cutting ? " I sneered. 



*"Tisn't, all the same." 



" But I heard the tree fall ! " 



** Yes, and in a minute it'll begin again and go on 

 perhaps all night. I don't suppose there's an old 

 planter in Ceylon that hasn't heard it. You go there 

 to-morrow and examine every tree in the jungle, and 

 you won't find the mark of an axe on one. There it is 

 again." 



For an hour or more I listened. At the end of the 

 verandah the servants, usually so careful not to intrude 

 on their master's privacy, were assembled, whispering. 

 At last I went to bed, and fell asleep with the sounds 

 produced by the mysterious lumberer ringing in my 

 ears. 



Need I say I was not convinced ? Next morning, 

 when my host had gone to muster his coolies, I 

 slipped out and crossed the valley. The jungle, as I 

 have said, was small, and, being crossed by a zigzag 

 estate path, was easily examined. In half an hour I 

 had fully satisfied myself that no tree had been felled 

 there for years. On my way back I met my host. 



'' Been to look for felled trees, I suppose ? '^ 



" Who told you ? " 



" My good fellow, I did it myself the first time I 

 heard it ; and so have plenty of others." 



This, then, is a mystery of the jungle. I leave the 

 question to the reader's solution. If not the pe;2a2;^, 

 what is it ? 



There is another horror of the Ceylon jungle — 

 fortunately not inexplicable. I allude to the devil- 

 bird. I believe there is a dispute among zoologists as 

 to the exact species of the bird which goes by that 



