^80 JUNGLE PEACE 



This piece of ultra-unnaturalism seemed to 

 break part of the spell and the magic silence 

 was lifted. Two frogs boomed again, close at 

 hand, and now all the hound similitude was 

 gone, and in its place another, still more strange, 

 when we think of the goggle-eyed author far up 

 in the trees. The sound now was identical with 

 the short cough or growl of a hungry lion, and 

 though I have heard the frogs many times since 

 that night, this resemblance never changed or 

 weakened. It seemed as if the volume, the roar- 

 ing outburst, could come only from the throat 

 of some large, full-lunged mammal. 



A sudden tearing rush from the trail-side, 

 and ripping of vines and shrubs, was mingled 

 with deep, hoarse snorts, and we knew that we 

 had disturbed one of the big red deer — ^big only 

 in comparison with the common tiny brown 

 brockets. A few yards farther the leaves rus- 

 tled high overhead, although no breath of wind 

 had as yet touched the jungle. I began a slow, 

 careful search with my flashlight, and, mingled 

 with the splotches and specks of moonlight high 

 overhead, I seemed to see scores of little eyes 

 peering down. But at last my faint electric 

 beam found its mark and evolved the first bit 



