A Night by a Jungle Pool. 87 



out sharp and clear in the brilliant light. Small bats wheel- 

 ed and circled with soft whirring wings over the dark pool, 

 ever and anon kissing the glassy surface in a downward 

 swoop. Why is it that moonlight should throw such mys- 

 tery over the woods ! The slightest sound appears to be a 

 loud and startling uproar, and the occasional scratching 

 indulged in by Abbas Khan as if it would be sufficient 

 warning to all animals for miles. 



Curious small noises come and go in the dry leaves, and 

 two tiny, owls cause quite a stir, as they softly alight on a 

 slender teak pole, which has a few huge dried leaves 

 attached to its topmost twigs. 



The mind too is gently influenced by the quiet scene, 

 and wonders how there can be such things as rage and 

 strife. Why should life not glide thus peacefully on, with- 

 out jar, in calm beatitude ! 



The ear catches a far distant gentle stirring in the car-^ 

 peting of dry teak leaves, now dying away, and then agairi 

 increasing, coming 1 nearer, stopping, recommencing. The 

 sounds come from the lower portion of that long steep spur? 

 which runs from the little level vale of yellow grass right 

 up to the soft mauve distance of crag-encircled plateaux 

 far above us. 



The colours of the sleeping landscape, though restricted 

 to blues, greys, and palest yellow, are still marvellously 

 diverse in tone : there the rich soft blue-black of some 

 deep ravine : here the sharp dark branches of a gnarled tiwas 

 tree in high relief against a pale background of long with- 

 ered grass. 



The crackling of leaves is more pronounced now, and 

 the binoculars are raised to the dark line of forest where it 

 touches the grass land. Nothing shows for many long 

 minutes. 



