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A second hesitated in a tree-top and pursued. They chased
each other and vanished abruptly. He forgot his sense of insecurity
in the interest of these active little silhouettes. And he noted
how much bigger and more wonderful the stars can look when one sees
them through interlacing branches.
Ahead was darkness; but not so dark when he came to it that the
track was invisible. He was at the limit of his intention, but now
he saw that that had been a childish project. He would go on, he
would walk right into the jungle. His first disinclination was
conquered, and the soft intoxication of the subtropical moonshine
was in his blood. . . . But he wished he could walk as a spirit
walks, without this noise of leaves. . . .
Yes, this was very wonderful and beautiful, and there must always be
jungles for men to walk in. Always there must be jungles. . . .
Some small beast snarled and bolted from under his feet. He stopped
sharply. He had come into a darkness under great boughs, and now he
stood still as the little creature scuttled away.


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