A JUNGLE BEACH 109 



able clothing. On one side is the dark river; on 

 the other, the darker jungle full of gentle rus- 

 tlings, low, velvety breaths of sound; and I slip 

 into the water and swini out, out, out. Then I 

 turn over and float along with the almost tangi- 

 ble moonlight flooding down on face and water. 

 Suddenly the whole air is broken by the chorus 

 of big red baboons, which rolls and tumbles to- 

 ward me in masses of sound along the surface 

 and goes trembling, echoing on over shore and 

 jungle, till hurled back by the answering chorus 

 of another clan. It stirs one to the marrow, for 

 there is far more in it than the mere roaring of 

 monkeys; and I turn uneasily, and slowly surge 

 back toward the sand, overhand now, making 

 companionable splashes. 



And then again I stop, treading water softly, 

 "with face alone between river and sky; for the 

 monkeys have ceased, and very faint and low, 

 but blended in wonderful minor harmony, comes 

 another chorus — from three miles down the river: 

 the convicts singing hymns in their cells at mid- 

 night. And I ground gently and sit in the sil- 

 vered shadows with little bewildered shrimps 

 flicking against me, and unlanguaged thoughts 

 come and go — impossible similes, too poignant 



