BUTTERFLIES— AND BEER 



supplies. Often I had been tempted to open it, but 

 had managed to keep my resolution ; now, however, 

 I meant really to enjoy it. 



The head boy, a kind of policeman with whom the 

 Government had supplied me, was told to fetch the 

 bottle ; then I pulled a log of wood into the shade 

 and sat down. There were scores of magnificent 

 butterflies fluttering round, and for the moment I 

 was more intent on them than on the beer. I must 

 have been, for I certainly did not notice that the boy 

 had drawn the cork and poured the contents of the 

 bottle into a tin can, which he had placed at my feet. 

 Then the tragedy came. Seeing a particularly splendid 

 butterfly, I jumped up, net in hand, kicked over 

 the can, stumbled, and so lost both my refreshment 

 and the insect. Really, I believe it was the keenest 

 disappointment I ever met with on my travels. True, 

 I managed to squeeze a Httle out of the bottom of 

 the bottle, but it was merely the dregs, and by no 

 means made up for the long drink which was now 

 soaking down through the sand. Still, at nightfall 

 there was a big bamboo chair in the Commissioner's 

 camp and plenty of white man's food, and — other 

 bottles of beer. 



29 



