268 JUNGLE PEACE 



edged, with border zone of bleached, ashamed 

 trunks and lofty branches white as chalk, of 

 dead and dying trees. For no jungle tree, 

 however hardy, can withstand the blasting of 

 violent sun after the veiling of emerald foliage 

 is torn away. As the diver plunges beneath the 

 waves, so, after one glance backward over the 

 silvered landscape, I passed at a single stride 

 into what seemed by contrast inky blackness, re- 

 lieved by the trail ahead, which showed as does 

 a ray of light through closed eyelids. As the 

 chirruping rails climbed among the roots of the 

 tall cat-tails out yonder, so we now crept far 

 beneath the level of the moonlit foliage. The 

 silvery landscape had been shifted one hundred, 

 two hundred feet above the earth. We had 

 become lords of creation in name alone, thread- 

 ing our way humbly among the fungi and toad- 

 stools, able only to look aloft and wonder what 

 it was like. And for a long time no voice an- 

 swered to tell us whether any creature lived and 

 moved in the tree-tops. 



The tropical jungle by day is the most won- 

 derful place in the world. At night I am sure 

 it is the most weirdly beautiful of all places 

 outside the world. For it is primarily unearthly. 



