JUNGLE NIGHT 285 



which beetles left in their swift wake. Finally 

 we turned and circled through side trails so 

 narrow and so dark that we walked with out- 

 stretched arms, feeling for the trunks and lianas, 

 choosing a sloth's gait and the hope of new ad- 

 ventures rather than the glare of my flash on 

 our path. 



When we entered the Convict Trail, we headed 

 toward home. Within sight of the first turn 

 a great black limb of a tree had recently fallen 

 across the trail in a patch of moonlight. Before 

 we reached it, the branch had done something 

 it should not have done — it had straightened 

 slightly. We strained our eyes to the utmost 

 but could not, in this eerie light, tell head from 

 tail end of this great serpent. It moved very 

 slowly, and with a motion which perfectly con- 

 founded our perception. Its progress seemed no 

 faster than the hour hand of a watch, but we 

 knew that it moved, yet so close to the white 

 sand that the whole trail seemed to move with it. 

 The eye refused to admit any motion except^ 

 in sudden shifts, like widely separated films of a 

 motion-picture. For minute after minute it 

 seemed quiescent ; then we would blink and real- 

 ize that it was two feet higher up the bank. One 



