no JUNGLE PEACE 



as if silhouetted against complete darkness, by 

 the greenish light of numberless fireflies. After 

 the first marvel of the sudden sight, I ap- 

 proached and pulled down a branch and counted 

 twenty-six glowing insects, as close together as 

 the blossoms on a Japanese cherry branch. 

 There were hundreds upon hundreds, all clus- 

 tered together in candelabred glory, hidden 

 from the view of all, at the farther side of this 

 dense thicket. As I left I remembered with 

 gratitude the silver wire of sound which had 

 guided me, and in a far corner of my mind I 

 stored a new memory — one which I could draw 

 upon at need in distant times of pain, or of in- 

 tolerance or perhaps in some lull of battle — the 

 thought of a tree all aglow with living flames, 

 in the moonlight of the Convict Trail. 



