30 BIG GAME FIELDS 



walls were a garden of wonderland. Scarlet 

 creepers festooned from branch to branch, and 

 glowing crimson curved into arbors and bowers ; 

 grottoes from whose roofs swung what seemed 

 like little fairy lanterns in shades of pale laven- 

 der, delicate blue and deep purple; velvety dark 

 caverns overhanging the water, studded with 

 white pendants that looked like crystal globes, 

 pergolas draped in burnished copper. 



Continuing on through this palm-strewn para- 

 dise, one sees the parrots in their natural wild 

 home, flocks of blue and red macaws, the scarlet 

 ibis, besides many other birds of gay plumage, 

 and yet but a fraction has been said of the de- 

 lights of these fairyland scenes. 



Ranjettan, my head black, who spoke a little 

 English, I relied on mostly to conduct the trip. 

 The rest of the men I could understand but little, 

 and therefore my conversation was rather limited, 

 I being the only white. It was now ten o'clock 

 and we had covered nearly a dozen miles. The 

 heat from the stifling sun's rays made the air 

 like a Turkish bath, and it was a great relief 

 when Ranjettan steered for the shore and the 

 inviting looking shade. 



The manner of living in the tropics is quite 

 different from that of a more northern clime, and 



