THE LAND OF FOOTPRINTS 



dense jungle, so dense that we could not see on either 

 side more than fifteen or twenty feet. Occasioa- 

 ally, atop the ridges, however, we would come upon 

 small open parks. In these jungles live millions of 

 human beings. 



At once, as soon as we had turned into the main 

 road, we began to meet people. In the grain fields 

 of the valley we saw only the elevated boys, and a 

 few men engaged in weaving a little house perched 

 on stilts. We came across some of these little 

 houses all completed, with conical roofs. They 

 were evidently used for granaries. As we mounted 

 the slope on the other side, however, the trees closed 

 in, and we found ourselves marching down the nar- 

 row aisle of the jungle itself. 



It was a dense and beautiful jungle, with very tall 

 trees and the deepest shade; and the impenetrable 

 tangle to the edge of the track. Among the trees 

 were the broad leaves of bananas and palms, the 

 fling of leafy vines. Over the track these branches 

 leaned, so that we rode through splashing sunlight 

 and mottling shade. Nothing could have seemed 

 wilder than this apparently impenetrable growth; 

 and yet we had ridden but a short distance before 

 we realized that we were in fact passing through 

 cultivated land. It was, again, only a difference in 

 terms. Native cultivation in this district rarely 



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