HAMMOCK NIGHTS 221, 



hammock, not only the mysteries of the night, 

 but the affairs of the day may be legitimately in- 

 vestigated from this aerial point of view. It is 

 a fetish of belief in hot countries that every un- 

 acclimatized white man must, sooner or later, 

 succumb to that sacred custom, the siesta. In 

 the cool of the day he may work vigorously, but 

 this hour of rest is indispensable. To a health- 

 ful person, living a reasonable life, the siesta is 

 sheer luxury. However, in camp, when the sun 

 nears the zenith and the hush which settles over 

 the jungle proclaims that most of the wild crea- 

 tures are resting, one may swing one's hammock 

 in the very heart of this primitive forest and 

 straightway be admitted into a new province, 

 where rare and unsuspected experiences are 

 open to the wayfarer. This is not the province 

 of sleep or dreams, where all things are possible 

 and preeminently reasonable; for one does not 

 go through sundry hardships and all manner of 

 self-denial, only to be blindfolded on the very 

 threshold of his ambition. No naturalist of a 

 temperament which begrudges every unused 

 hour will, for a moment, think of sleep under 

 such conditions. It is not true that the rest and 

 quiet are necessary to cool the Northern blood 



