94 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



rays, whose power must be gi^eater than we real- 

 ize. Beyond the monkey roosted Robert, the 

 great macaw, wide-awake, watching me with all 

 that broadside of intensive gaze of which only 

 a parrot is capable. 



The three of us seemed to be the only living 

 things in the world, and for a long time w^e-— 

 monkey, macaw, and man — listened. Then all 

 but the man became uneasy. The monkey raised 

 herself and listened, uncurled her tail, shifted, 

 and listened. The macaw drew himself up, feath- 

 ers close, forgot me, and listened. They, un- 

 like me, were not merely listening — they were 

 hearing something. Then there came, very 

 slowly and deliberately, as if reluctant to break 

 through the silent moonlight, a sound, low and 

 constant, impossible to identify, but clearly audi- 

 ble even to my ears. For just an instant longer 

 it held, sustained and quivering, then swiftly rose 

 into a crashing roar — the sound of a great tree 

 falling. I sat up and heard the whole long de- 

 scent ; but at the end, after the moment of silence, 

 there was no deep boom — the sound of the mighty 

 bole striking and rebounding from the earth it- 

 self. I wondered about this for a while; then the 

 monkey and I went to sleep, leaving the macaw 



