THE LURE OF KARTABO 31 
nated the less important incidental casement, 
whether it happened to be feathers, or fur, or 
scales. It is interesting to observe how the Adam 
in one comes to the surface in the matter of names 
for pets. I know exactly the uncomfortable 
feeling which must have perturbed the heart of 
that pioneer of nomenclaturists, to be plumped 
down in the midst of “the greatest aggregation 
of animals ever assembled” before the time of 
Noah, and to be able to speak of them only as this 
or that, he or she. So we felt when inundated by 
a host of pets. It is easy to speak of the species 
by the lawful Latin or Greek name; we mention 
the specimen on our laboratory table by its com- 
mon natural-history appellation. But the individ- 
ual who touches our pity, or concern, or affec- 
tion, demands a special title—usually absurdly 
inapt. 
Soon, in the bamboo glade about our bungalow, 
ten little jungle friends came to live; and to us 
they will always be Kib and Gawain, George and 
Gregory, Robert and Grandmother, Raoul and 
Pansy, Jennie and Jellicoe. 
Gawain was not a double personality—he was 
an intermittent reincarnation, vibrating between 
the inorganic and the essence of vitality. In a 
