A JUNGLE BEACH 93 



hold attention was not only direct and sensory, 

 — through sight and sound and scent, — but often 

 indirect, seemingly by occult means. Time after 

 time, on an impulse, I followed some casual line 

 of thought and action, and found myself at last 

 on or near the beach, on a lead that eventually 

 would take me to the verge or into the water. 

 Once I did what for me was a most unusual 

 thing. I woke in the middle of the night with- 

 out apparent reason. The moonlight was pour^ 

 ing in a white flood through the bamboos, and 

 the jungle was breathless and silent. Through 

 my window I could see Jennie, our pet monkey, 

 lying aloft, asleep on her little verandah, head 

 cushioned on both hands, tail curled around her 

 dangling chain, as a spider guards her web- 

 strands for hint of disturbing vibrations. I knew 

 that the slightest touch on that chain would 

 awaken her, and indeed it seemed as if the very 

 thought of it had been enough; for she opened 

 her eyes, sent me the highest of insect-like notes 

 and turned over, pushing her head within the 

 shadow of her little house. I wondered if ani- 

 mals, too, were, like the Malays and so many 

 savage tribes, afraid of the moonlight — the 

 "luna-cy" danger in those strange color-strained 



