276 JUNGLE PEACE 



touch, emphasized by the character of the call — 

 the wail of a lost soul being as good a simile as 

 any other. It started as a high, trembling wail, 

 the final cry being lost in the depths of whis- 

 pered woe: — 



Oo ooh! 



oh! 

 oh! 

 oh! 

 oh! 

 oh! 

 Nupee never moved; only his lips formed the 

 name by which he knew it — halawoe. What- 

 ever else characterized the sounds of the jungle 

 at night, none became monotonous or common. 

 Five minutes later the great bird called to us 

 from far, far away, as if from another round 

 of purgatory — an eerie lure to enter still deeper 

 into the jungle depths. We never heard it 

 again. 



Nature seems to have apportioned the voices 

 of many of her creatures with sensitive regard 

 for their environment. Somber voices seem fit- 

 tingly to be associated with subdued light, and 

 joyous notes with the blaze of sunlit twigs and 

 open meadows. A bobolink's bubbling carol is 



