204. EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



It was one morning, years ago, but the mem- 

 ory of it is with me still, vivid and painful. One 

 of the party had left her hammock, which was 

 tied securely since she was skilful in such mat- 

 ters, to sit down and rest in another, belonging 

 to a servant. This was slung at one end of a 

 high, tropical porch, which was without the rail- 

 ing that surrounds the more pretentious verandahs 

 of civilization, so that the hammock swung free, 

 first over the rough flooring, then a little out 

 over the yard itself. A rope slipped, the faulty 

 knot gave way, and she fell backward — a seven- 

 foot fall with no support of any kind by which 

 she might save herself. A broken wrist was the 

 price she had to pay for another's carelessness — 

 a broken wrist which, in civilization, is perhaps, 

 one of the lesser tragedies; but this was in the 

 very heart of the Guiana wilderness. Many 

 hours from ether and surgical skill, such an acci- 

 dent assumes alarming proportions. Therefore, 

 I repeat my warning: tie your knots or examine 

 them. 



It is true, that, when all is said and done^ a 

 dweller in hammocks may bring upon himself any 

 number of diverse dangers of a character never 

 described in books or imagined in fiction. A fel- 



