THE SOUL WITHIN THE STONE 



" These ghosts of the living and of the dead assuredly illustrate 

 in a striking manner the mysterious workings of the human mind, 

 and the unsuspected influence of soul on soul." — Prodmore. 



Not more than a hundred yards from its mud-besmeared 

 mouth the convenient mangroves disappear and the 

 little creek assumes becoming airs. Huge tea-trees, with 

 cushiony bark, straddle it, and ferns grow strongly in 

 all its nooks and bends. When the big trees blossom 

 in watery yellow, ^-ellow-eared honey-eaters, blue- 

 bibbed sun-birds, and screeching parrots in accordant 

 colours, assemble joyously, for the aroma, as of burnt 

 honey, spreads far and wide, bidding all, butterflies 

 and jewel-backed beetles which buzz and hum, to the 

 feast, until the aerial anthem is harmonic to the rustle 

 of the sea. 



The sturdy feet of the trees stand in black peat, through 

 which the water from the wholesome hills oozes and 

 dribbles, and the russet stain from discarded leaves 

 is on their white bases. Russet, too, is the surface of 

 the ever moist soil. Some element in the water derived 

 from pacted roots of palm and fern tinctures whatsoever 

 in it hes, so that the bottoms of the shallow, erratic pools 

 are thick with russet slime. All above is bright and 

 pure, and the water which flows over the slime-smudged 

 roots limpid and refreshing. If you cut into the bark 

 of the tea-tree you will find water in beads and trickles, 



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