202 JUNGLE PEACE 



found myself all unintentionally in the sleeping 

 chamber of the heliconias. 



Tired from a long day's work in the labora- 

 tory, I wandered slowly along the Convict Trail, 

 aimlessly, in that wholly relaxed state which 

 always seems to invite small adventures. It is 

 a mental condition wholly desirable, but not to 

 be achieved consciously. One cannot say, " Lo, 

 I will now be relaxed, receptive." It must come 

 subconsciously, unnoticed, induced by a certain 

 wearied content of body or mind — and then — 

 many secret doors stand ajar, any one of which 

 may be opened and passed if the gods approve. 

 My stroll was marked at first, however, by only 

 one quaint happening. For several weeks the 

 jolly little trail-lizards had been carrying on 

 most enthusiastic courtships, marked with much 

 bowing and posing, and a terrific amount of 

 scrambling about. The previous day — that of 

 the first rains — numbers of lizardlets appeared, 

 and at the same time the brown tree-lizards 

 initiated their season of love-making. I had 

 often watched them battle with one another — 

 combats wholly futile as far as any damage was 

 concerned. But the vanquished invariably gave 

 up to his conqueror the last thing he had swal- 



