154? JUNGLE PEACE 



all were peaceful, with hardly a breath of air 

 stirring just the cool, velvet touch of the 

 tropics, always free from any trace of the heat 

 of the day. Whether dark rich olive under cres- 

 cent or starlight, or glowing silvery-gray in the 

 flood of the full moon, the forest, so quiet, so 

 motionless all about me, was always mysterious, 

 always alluring. To the north, at the foot of 

 the hill, lay the dark surface of the great river, 

 its waters one amber, homogeneous flood, yet 

 drawn from a thousand tributaries: hidden 

 creeks seeping through mossy jungles far be- 

 yond the Spanish border, brown cascades filter- 

 ing through gravel which gleamed with yellow 

 gold and sparkled with the light from uncut dia- 

 monds. And to the south rose the wall of the 

 jungle itself, symbol of all that is wild and 

 untamed in nature. 



Yet I am never conscious of the bloody fang, 

 the poison tooth, of the wilderness. The peace 

 of this jungle at night was the same peace as 

 that of the trees in our city parks. I knew that 

 well within my horizon, jaguars and pumas were 

 stalking their prey, while here and there on the 

 forest floor bushmasters lay coiled like mats of 

 death. But quite as vividly could I picture 



