IN THE JUNGLE 



attention was attracted by the peculiar actions of a 

 big flock of very white birds. They rose suddenly 

 from one side of the tiny rape field, wheeled and 

 swirled like leaves in the wind, and dropped down 

 suddenly on the other side the patch. After a few 

 moments they repeated the performance. The sun 

 caught the dazzling white of their plumage. At first 

 we speculated on what they might be, then on what 

 they were doing, to behave in so peculiar a manner. 

 The lime juice and the armchair began to get in their 

 recuperative work. Somehow the distance across 

 that flat did not seem quite as tremendous as at 

 first. Finally I picked up the shotgun and saun- 

 tered across to investigate. The cause of action I 

 soon determined. The owner of that rape field 

 turned out to be an emaciated, gray-haired but spry 

 old savage. He was armed with a spear; and at the 

 moment his chief business in life seemed to be chasing 

 a large flock of white birds ofl" his grain. Since he 

 had no assistance, and since the birds held his spear 

 in justifiable contempt as a fowling piece, he was 

 getting much exercise and few results. The birds 

 gave way before his direct charge, flopped over to 

 the other side, and continued their meal. They had 

 already occasioned considerable damage; the rape 

 heads were bent and destroyed for a space of perhaps 

 ten feet from, the outer edge of the field. As this 



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