'262 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 
ward cloud still stained with last night’s sunset 
yellow, which had set out on its own path over 
rivers and jungles to join the sea mists beyond 
the uttermost trees. 
Such a swarm seemed imbued with an ecstasy 
of travel which surpassed discomfort. Deep 
cloud shadows might settle down, but only 
dimmed the painted wings; under raindrops the 
ribbon sagged, the insects flying closer to the 
water. On the other hand, the scattered hosts 
of the more ordinary migrations, while they. 
turned neither to the north nor to the west, yet 
fled at the advent of clouds and rain, seeking 
shelter under the nearest foliage. So much 
loitering was permitted, but with the coming of 
the sun again they must desert the pleasant feel 
of velvet leaves, the rain-washed odors of stream- 
ing blossoms, and set their antenne unquestion- 
ingly upon the strange last turn of their wheel 
of life. 
What crime of ancestors are they expiating? 
In some forgotten caterpillardom was an act 
committed, so terrible that it can never be known, 
except through the working out of the karma 
upon millions of butterflies?’ Or does there lin- 
ger in the innumerable little ganglion minds a 
