ides but few real perils, and
in a hammock one is safely removed from these. One lies in a stratum
above all damp and chill of the ground, beyond the reach of crawling
tick and looping leech; and with an enveloping _mosquitaro_, or
mosquito shirt, as the Venezuelans call it, one is fortified even in
the worst haunts of these most disturbing of all pests.

Once my ring rope slipped and the hammock settled, but not enough to
wake me up and force me to set it to rights. I was aware that
something had gone wrong, but, half asleep, I preferred to leave the
matter in the lap of the gods. Later, as a result, I was awakened
several times by the patting of tiny paws against my body, as small
jungle-folk, standing on their hind-legs, essayed to solve the mystery
of the swaying, silent, bulging affair directly overhead. I was unlike
any tree or branch or liana which had come their way before; I do not
doubt that they thought me some new kind of ant-nest, since these
structures are alike only as their purpose in life is identical--for
they express every possible variation in shape, size, color, design,
and position. As for their curiosity, I could make no complaint, for,
at best, my visitors could not be so inquisitive as I, inasmuch as I
had crossed one ocean and two continents with no greater object than
to pry into their personal and civic affairs as well as those of
their neighbors. To say nothing of their environment and other
matters.

That my rope slipped was the direct result of my own inefficiency. The
hammock protects one from the dangers of the outside world, but like
any man-made structure, it shows evidences of those imperfections
which are part and parcel of human nature, and serve, no doubt, to
make it interesting. But one may at least strive for perfection by
being careful. Therefore tie the ropes of your hammock yourself, or
examine and test the job done for you. The master of hammocks makes a
knot the name of which I do not know--I cannot so much as describe it.
But I would like to twist it again--two quick turns, a push and a
pull; then, the greater the strain put upon it, the greater its
resistance.

This trustworthiness commands respect and admiration, but it is in the
morning that one feels the glow of real gratitude; for, in striking
camp at dawn, one has but to give a single jerk and the rope is
straightened out, without so much as a second's delay. It is the
tying, however, which must be well done--this