158 JUNGLE PEACE 



tiny spiders, and the chirps of young martins 

 were smothered in winged ants. Swiftly the 

 sun rose and the heat dissipated the mists and 

 lured out a host of flying things. Even at mid- 

 day one might sit at a window and take notes 

 continuously of lesser happenings, while now 

 and then something of such note occurred that 

 one could only watch and wonder. This might 

 be a migration of sulphur butterflies, thousands 

 flying steadily toward the southeast hour after 

 hour, day after day. Or a host of humming- 

 birds of nearly a score of species would descend 

 upon the cashew blossoms in the rear compound. 

 Most exciting was a flight of winged termites. 

 In the rainy season the clouds would bank up 

 about mid-day, and showers fall with true tropi- 

 cal violence. After an exceptionally long down- 

 pour the marriage flight would take place and 

 logs, dead branches, and even the steps and 

 beams of Kalacoon would give up their multi- 

 tudes. From great rotted stumps the insects 

 poured forth like curling smoke. The breeze 

 carried them slowly off toward the west, and 

 at the first hint the birds gathered to the feast. 

 Only Rangoon vultures surpassed them in 

 numbers and voracity. The air was fretted with 



