i5» 
SOMERSET 
CHAP. 
gourds on their heads. With backs as straight as 
arrows, the men, waist-deep in water, were hauling their 
fishing-nets. There are days in our lives that we never 
forget, and I think that this was one of them. Perhaps it 
was that I felt so well, and so much alive, and that the 
world was a beautiful one. Every bird was singing, 
the air was full of scent and sound, a distant hum of 
bees was overhead, and butterflies danced in the 
sunlight. 
I couldn’t keep still, and, after breakfast, which con- 
sisted of fish, yam, curry, and fruits, I went with some 
of the native girls to the top of a hill to sketch. You 
would have been amused to see me trying to make 
myself understood by signs, and by drawing pictures on 
the sand. The mosquitoes bit my wrists and hands, 
and my companions were delighted when I pulled up 
my sleeve, and were much amused either at the thinness 
of my arms or the colour, for they laughed heartily and 
tried to make me understand that they were no good for 
food. One girl, less shy than the others, took my arm 
up and pretended to bite it, then, making a wry face 
and shaking her head, she put it down and laid her 
own sleek, brown one beside it, patting it impressively 
to let me see what a superior article it was. 
I didn’t get through much sketching ; the wind had 
risen and my flapping hat and garments blew every 
way, and moreover I felt too much “ out for a jaunt,” so 
we all laughed on, and if there was a joke I must have 
appeared in their eyes to have enjoyed it as much as 
they did. Our mirth became infectious, for other natives 
now joined us, and a long procession wound its way up 
the hill where we were sitting, but I was unaccustomed 
to being the centre of attraction and it began to pall on 
me, and I took up my sketch-book and went. 
Below me as I came down the hill I saw Mr. Tom 
