LIFE IN THE FOREST 71 



the trees are the only sounds to be heard. Rarely, 

 as you move quietly along the path, ' konk, konk, 

 konk,' like the cry of a raven grown musical, sounds 

 overhead, and if you stand still enough and peer 

 upwards you may see a beautiful green turaco* 

 sidling up and down a branch with wings and tail 

 outspread, and performing the most quaint antics 

 for the entertainment of another. Sometimes a 

 small antelope leaps up with a shrill bark almost 

 at your feet, and shows a momentary flash of brown 

 as it disappears into the thicket, or there is a 

 crashing and swaying in the upper branches as 

 a troop of black monkeys take alarm, and, chattering 

 and whisding, swing themselves off into safety. 

 Sometimes the slow progress that one makes is 

 suddenly hastened by meeting an army of large 

 black ants with formidable jaws, that come stream- 

 ing along the path. If, as it generally happens, 

 one is walking heedlessly along with thoughts in 

 the trees rather than on the ground, a sudden biting 

 at many points is the first warning that one has 

 of the enemy's approach, and boots and garments 

 have to be hurriedly torn off before the last invader 

 is captured and slain. Wandering on and on, you 

 see at length a glint of light through the trees in 

 front, the forest ends abruptly, and you come out 

 into the broad sunlight. The change is almost 

 starding in its suddenness and degree ; you feel 

 that you have been translated in a moment from 

 * Tuvacus emini. 



