202 EDGE OP THE JUNGLE 



yond the reach of crawling tick and looping 

 leech; and with an enveloping mosquitaro, or 

 mosquito shirt, as the Venezuelans call it, one 

 is fortified even in the worst haunts of these most 

 disturbing of all pests. 



Once my ring rope slipped and the hammock 

 settled, but not enough to wake me up and force 

 me to set it to rights. I was aware that some- 

 thing had gone wrong, but, half asleep, I pre- 

 ferred to leave the matter in the lap of the gods. 

 Later, as a result, I was awakened several times 

 by the patting of tiny paws against my body, 

 as small jungle-folk, standing on their hind-legs, 

 essayed to solve the mystery of the swaying, 

 silent, bulging affair directly overhead. I was 

 unlike any tree or branch or liana which had 

 come their way before ; I do not doubt that they 

 thought me some new kind of ant-nest, since 

 these structures are alike only as their purpose 

 in life is identical for they express every pos- 

 sible variation in shape, size, color, design, and 

 position. As for their curiosity, I could make 

 no complaint, for, at best, my visitors could not 

 be so inquisitive as I, inasmuch as I had crossed 

 one ocean and two continents with no greater 

 object than to pry into their personal and civic 



