204 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 
It was one morning, years ago, but the mem- 
ory of it is with me still, vivid and painful. One 
of the party had left her hammock, which was 
tied securely since she was skilful in such mat- 
ters, to sit down and rest in another, belonging 
to a servant. This was slung at one end of a 
high, tropical porch, which was without the rail- 
ing that surrounds the more pretentious verandahs 
of civilization, so that the hammock swung free, 
first over the rough flooring, then a little out 
over the yard itself. A rope slipped, the faulty 
knot gave way, and she fell backward—a seven- 
foot fall with no support of any kind by which 
she might save herself. A broken wrist was the 
price she had to pay for another’s carelessness— 
a broken wrist which, in civilization, is perhaps, 
one of the lesser tragedies; but this was in the 
very heart of the Guiana wilderness. Many 
hours from ether and surgical skill, such an acci- 
dent assumes alarming proportions. Therefore, 
I repeat my warning: tie your knots or examine 
them. 
It is true, that, when all is said and done, a 
dweller in hammocks may bring upon himself any 
number of diverse dangers of a character never 
described in books or imagined in fiction. A fel- 
