[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

140 WITH NATIVES IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC

lost our way, but as night is closing in fast, we cannot
venture any farther.

The loads are thrown to the ground in disorder,
and the boys drop down comfortably; strong
language on my part is needed before they make up
their minds to pile up the luggage, collect wood and
begin to cook. Meanwhile my own servant has
prepared my bed and dried my clothes. Soon it is
quite dark, the boys gather round the fires, and do
not dare to go into the yawning darkness any more,
for fear of ghosts. '

The rain has ceased, and the soft damp night air
hangs in the trees. The firelight is absorbed by the
darkness, and only the nearest surroundings shine
in its red glare; the boys are stretched out in
queer attitudes round the fire on the hard rocks.
Soon I turn out the lamp and lie listening to the
night, where vague life and movement creeps through
the trunks. Sometimes a breath of wind shivers
through the trees, shaking heavy drops from the
leaves. A wild pig grunts, moths and insects circle
round the fires, and thousands of mosquitoes hum
about my net and sing me to sleep. Once in a while
I am roused by the breaking of a rotten tree, or a
mournful cry from one of the dreaming boys; or one
of them wakes up, stirs the fire, turns over and snores
on. Long before daybreak a glorious concert of
birds welcomes the new day. Half asleep, I watch
the light creep across the sky, while the bush is still
in utter darkness; suddenly, like a bugle-call, the
first sunbeams strike the trees and it is broad day.