A WILDERNESS LABORATORY 175 



I gave myself up to the lure of the hypnotic 

 monotone. 



One thought kept recurring — of the little girl 

 far back in the dark depths of the wattled hut. 

 She was so little, so childish, and her part that 

 evening had been so slight and perfunctory, not 

 as much as that of any of the other women and 

 girls who had slovenly performed the half- 

 understood rites. She had brought us milk 

 regularly, and smiled when we wished salaam 

 to her. 



She knew less of India than I did. Guiana, 

 this alien land, as humid and luxuriant as the 

 Great Plains were dry and parched — this was 

 her native country. And this evening was her 

 supreme moment; yet her part in it had not 

 seemed fair. She would have liked so much to 

 have worn that pink dress which made her fu- 

 ture husband a caricature; she would have 

 adored to place the shining, tinseled head-dress 

 on her black hair — more with a child's delight 

 than a woman's. And now she would live in a 

 house of her own, and not a play-house, and 

 obey this kind-faced young man — young, but 

 not in comparison with her, whose father he 

 could have been. And she would have anklets 



