180 JUNGLE PEACE 



Before we begin our trail, it will be wise to 

 try to understand this twenty-foot tangle, 

 stretching almost a mile back from Kalacoon. 

 Three years before it was pure jungle. Then 

 man came with ax and saw and fire and one by 

 one the great giants were felled — mora, green- 

 heart, crabwood — each crashing its way to earth 

 after centuries of upward growth. The under- 

 brush in the dark, high jungle is comparatively 

 scanty. Light-starved and fungus-plagued, the 

 shrubs and saplings are stunted and weak. So 

 when only the great stumps were left standing, 

 the erstwhile jungle showed as a mere shambles 

 of raw wood and shriveled foliage. After a 

 time fire was applied, and quickly, as in the 

 case of resinous trees, or with long, slow smolder- 

 ings of half -rotted, hollow giants, the huge boles 

 were consumed. 



For a period, utter desolation reigned. Char- 

 coal and gray ash covered everything. No life 

 stirred. Birds had flown, reptiles and insects 

 made their escape or succumbed. Only the 

 saflPron-faced vultures swung past, on the watch 

 for some half -charred creature. Almost at once, 

 however, the marvelous vitality of the tropical 

 vegetation asserted itself. Phoenix-like, from 



