A LOST FEBRUARY 



below and the mosquitoes from above soon found 

 me out. The Jamaican sand ant is a subtle, per- 

 sistent creature, and the mosquito is persistent with- 

 out being subtle. Roll myself in my blanket and 

 cover my face and head as I would, I could not 

 shake off or discourage either. About midnight 

 my son returned from his fruitless crocodile hunt, 

 and joined me in the couch of sand. Youth can 

 sleep, no matter what the conditions. Presently 

 some strange water-fowl, whose hoarse honking 

 and calling we had been hearing all the evening, 

 spied us out there on the sand, and gathered about 

 us; they stretched their necks, or, as the boys say, 

 " rubbered " and " rubbered," and let off their weird 

 notes of astonishment or alarm. In the moonlight 

 I saw them standing at the water's edge and cran- 

 ing their necks, all ahve with curiosity. Not till my 

 son whipped out his revolver and fired at one of 

 them did the disturbing, long-necked commenting 

 upon our presence cease. 



There in the stillness of the night we heard the 

 wild cattle low in the woods beyond the marshes. 

 (We had been told of a wild herd in this neighbor- 

 hood.) Then mockingbirds, the Antillean species, 

 sang in some near-by bushes, and the mosquitoes 

 and ants still persisted. About two o'clock, finding 

 sleep impossible, and that my body no longer fitted 

 the mould in the sand, I shook myself out of my 

 blanket and stepped forth, and instantly thanked 

 £55 



