A YARD OF JUNGLE 



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WITHIN five minutes the daily downpour of 

 tropical rain would drench the jungle. At this 

 moment the air was tense with electricity, abso- 

 lutely motionless, and saturated with odorous 

 moisture. The voices of all the wild creatures 

 were hushed. The sense of mystery which is al- 

 ways so dominant in a tropical jungle seemed 

 nearer, more vital, but more than ever a mys- 

 tery. Its insistency made one oblivious of the 

 great heat. The beating of one's heart became 

 a perceptible sound, absurdly loud. All the 

 swamp and jungle seemed listening to it. 



Suddenly a voice came out of the heart of 

 this mystery, and fittingly enough, the voice 

 seemed something a little more or less than hu- 

 man, and also fittingly it uttered but a single 

 word, and that word a question. And the listener 

 realized that the answer to the question was the 

 only thing which made life and work worth 



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