I04 



Byram a7id Ghopal 



Mile after mile he plodded along the 

 dusty road in silence, and towards noon 

 drew near a forest of acacias, which, inter- 

 spersed with other trees, extended from the 

 road to the river. 



" Let us rest awhile in the shade of the 

 forest," said Byram, "and see what the 

 white ants are doing. We will finish our 

 journey when the day gets cooler." 



It was cool and pleasant in the shade of 

 the forest, and our travelers had not pene- 

 trated far into its depth before they saw a 

 tree, which had been blown over by the 

 wind, but which, having some of its roots 



in tlie ground, was still green. This made 

 a capital seat for Byram, who sat on the 

 trunk resting his head against the roots, 

 while Ghopal stretched himself on the 

 ground and was soon fast asleep. 



Ghopal slept more than an hour, and 

 then opening his eyes and looking toward 

 the upturned roots of the tree, was not a 

 little astoni.shed to observe that Byram had 

 vacated his post. But the Faquir was not 

 far off. Laboriously he had crept to the 

 other end of the trunk, where he had again 

 seated himself, with his back against a 

 branch. Seeing Ghopal sit up, the Faquir 

 called him to him, and pointing to a heap 

 of dry dirt just below him, a.sked Ghopal 

 if he knew how it came there. 



" No very hard riddle that," said Ghopal. 

 "Here," pointing with his staff, "a big 

 branch was broken off when the tree fell, 

 and that branch had already been eaten up 

 by the white ants, all but a thin outer shell, 

 which they filled up again with dirt. With 

 the shock of falling the branch was broken 

 in pieces and the dirt fell all in a heap. 

 The trunk is hollow, too; here, where the 

 branch broke off, is a great hole, and white 

 ants going in and out." 



" You see that fallen trunk," said Byram, 

 pointing to a low ridge about fifty paces 

 distant. " Let us go and examine it." 



On nearing the fallen trunk they saw 

 that it was a trunk in broken outline only. 

 Nothing but a very thin shell remained, 

 and this had broken down in many places. 

 A very little labor sufficed to break down 

 the last vestiges of the log, leaving a ridge 

 of earthy looking matter in its place. 



"What do you think has become of the 

 wood?" asked Byram. 



" Your friends, the white ants, have 

 eaten it," replied Ghopal. 



" And what is this ridge that now takes 

 the place of the log ?" 



" That, I suppose," said Ghopal, is the 

 remains of the tree after passing through 

 the white ants." 



"Yes," said Byram, "but mixed with 

 some earth which the white ants apparently 

 eat to facilitate digestion. Now," contin- 

 ued he, " as all the timber of this forest, 

 from time immemorial, has been eaten by 

 white ants, the surface must have been 

 covered to a considerable depth. Is it not 

 so ?" 



"Yes," said Ghopal," I should think 

 they could cover the surface with a consid- 

 erable coat of this stuff in a century; a 

 couple of inches perhaps." 



"But," said Byram, "if you dig a hole 

 three or four feet deep you reach sand or 

 gravel, or stiff clay, or something not fit to 

 grow plants or crops on." 



"That is true," conceded Ghopal. 



