48 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 
pect of change or of adventure than an average 
toadstool. 
Thus I sat for a long time, lulled by similitudes 
of northern plants and bees and birds, and then 
gently shifted southward a few hundred miles, 
the transition being smooth and unabrupt. With 
equal gentleness the dead calm stirred slightly 
and exhaled the merest ghost of a breeze; it 
seemed as if the air was hardly in motion, but 
only restless: the wings of the bees and the fly- 
catcher might well have caused it. But, judged 
by the sequence of events, it was the almost im- 
perceptible signal given by some great Jungle 
Spirit, who had tired of playing with my dreams 
and pleasant fancies of northern life, and now 
called upon her legions to disillusion me. And 
the response was immediate. ‘Three great shells 
burst at my very feet,—one of sound, one of 
color, and the third of both plus numbers,—and 
from that time on, tropical life was dominant 
whichever way I looked. That is the way with 
the wilderness, and especially the tropical wilder- 
ness—to surprise one in the very field with which 
one is most familiar. While in my own estima- 
tion my chief profession is ignorance, yet I sign 
