THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 25 



Then another cicada, a giant species, sends his call through 

 the jungle; he has two strings to his bow, one a half -note 

 higher than the other, and on these he plays for five minutes 

 at a time. It is Chinese music to the very tone. Some- 

 times his tune ends in a rising shriek, and we know that one 

 of the big blue wasps has descended on him and stabbed him 

 in the midst of his love-song. 



FIG. ii. SUN-BITTERN. 



The day wears on, and even the cicadas become quiet. 

 The sun is overhead and the air full of tropical heat. In the 

 shade it is always comfortable, and in the full glare of the sun 

 one perspires so freely that the heat is hardly felt. 



As we paddle lazily along, a great Tegu Lizard (Teius 

 nigropunctatas) scrambles slowly along the bank; now crawl- 

 ing over a muddy expanse, now taking to the water to avoid a 



