70 JUNGLE PEACE 



faces. Not only were the master's wig and 

 gown missing, besides other articless less neces- 

 sary from a legal point of view, but the ham for 

 luncheon was lacking. The higher law of com- 

 pensation now became active, and the day of 

 postponement gave me the sight of the Pome- 

 roon Trail. This delay solved the matter of the 

 wig and gown, and the ham was replaced by a 

 curry equal to a Calcutta cook's best. This was 

 served in the Colony House at Suddy Village, 

 where one ate and slept in full enjoyment of 

 the cool tradewind which blew in from the clear 

 stretch of the Atlantic. And here one sat and 

 read or listened to the droning of the witnesses 

 in the petty cases held by the local magistrate 

 in the courtroom below stairs. 



I chose to do none of these things, but walked 

 to the sandy beach and along it in the direction 

 of the distant Spanish Main. It was a barren 

 beach, judged by the salvage of most beaches; 

 few shells, little seaweed, and the white sand 

 alternating with stretches of brown mud. I 

 walked until I came to a promontory and, amid 

 splashing muddy waves, climbed out and 

 perched where I ever love to be — on the outer- 

 most isolated pile of an old wharf. Scores of 



