88 TROPIC DAYS 



mangroves, and took but sleepy notice when upbraided 

 for being a sluggard. And of that other monstrous 

 beast which, with eyelids like saucers and a bulk which 

 filled a narrow tributary of the river, floundered, 

 splashed, and flurried into deep water, while the awe- 

 struck individual with the rifle was too astounded to 

 fire a shot. He may tell, too, of another instance of 

 good luck on the part of the crocodile. How, drifting 

 down silently with the ebb, the black boy indicated the 

 presence of game on a slide overhung by a deep verandah 

 of mud ; how a shot was fired and a big log splashed into 

 the water and the little one remained bearing the bullet- 

 wound, the real having been too big and impressive for 

 sight. 



The day is well spent among strange plants. Here 

 is a tall hibiscus with coarse leaves, diversely lobed, 

 and great pink, fragile flowers, each with a blotch of 

 maroon at the base and each containing a fat and 

 lumbering bee spangled with maroon-tinted pollen. 

 A trailing eugenia bears dark red flowers shaped like 

 a mop, and a tiny white lily with petals and strangely 

 protuberant anthers scents the air as with honey and 

 almonds. 



The tide ebbs fast. All the country teems with 

 entertainment, and the river, cool in the dusk, and 

 black, reflects the dead mangroves, white and spectral, 

 on its brink. 



This breathless night the sea is as tetchy as petrol. 

 Trailing fingers are terminals which ignite living flames, 

 and the propeller of the little boat creates an avengeful 

 commotion of light which trails far astern. Blobs of 

 light are cast off from her bows as she rounds the familiar 

 sandspit and glides to her moorings. 



