300 TROPIC DAYS 



were strewn about fifty feet below, while ahead I could 

 catch a glimpse of a narrow ribbon of blue sea. This 

 provoking sight of unattainable water aggravated thirst 

 almost beyond endurance. Throughout the night had 

 my longing increased, but now the pangs were extreme. 

 The most gratifying of all drinks cool, fern-filtered, 

 flower-decorated water, water dripping in iridescent 

 spangles from green moss soft as velvet splashed in- 

 cessantly into a hollow out there a few yards away in 

 the free space of the mountain. Here, manacled with 

 "adamant eterne," in an agony of impatience I quaffed 

 the thirst-stimulating draught of unsatisfied longing 

 as I strove fitfully to wear away the stubborn strips 

 of leather which held me in bondage. In a doze or 

 dream the action went on. Startled, I awoke to find 

 myself pommelling with inane savagery the poor crum- 

 pled body of the wallaby, and to the realisation that the 

 imprisoned foot was loose in the boot. 



A luxurious stupor took possession of my mind. 

 I was at liberty to work out of the crevice knees and 

 shoulders; yet an impalpable force detained me. It 

 was not that I was not master of my fate, but that out 

 there in the glare of the sun was patient water, dripping 

 for the refreshment and cleansing of my grimy lips. 

 So enchanting a thought was not to be abruptly ended. 

 Was it not deliciously dreamy to hold myself in suspense 

 awhile, to linger over anticipated sweetness and prolong 

 blest gratifications indefinitely ? 



Strange drowsiness and peace bewitched the sunlit 

 chink. Why should I struggle more ? Could I not, 

 in fancy, hearken to the measured splash of the drops 

 from the sodden moss ? Could anything be more con- 

 soling than this cushion to my bruised and aching arms? 

 Ease and sloth were sweet indeed. I was free, but not 

 at large. The amazing adaptability of the human mind 



