time. We cautiously passed from one tree to another,
afraid of frightening them away; but evidently the years spent by them
with the fakirs, who left the island only a year ago, had accustomed
them to human society. They were sacred monkeys, as we learned, and so
they had nothing to fear from men. They showed no signs of alarm at our
approach, and, having received our greeting, and some of them a piece of
sugar-cane, they calmly stayed on their branch-thrones, crossing their
arms, and looking at us with a good deal of dignified contempt in their
intelligent hazel eyes.

The sun had set, and we were told that the supper was ready. We all
turned "homewards," except the Babu. The main feature of his character,
in the eyes of orthodox Hindus, being a tendency to blasphemy, he could
never resist the temptation to justify their opinion of him. Climbing up
a high branch he crouched there, imitating every gesture of the monkeys
and answering their threatening grimaces by still uglier ones, to the
unconcealed disgust of our pious coolies.

As the last golden ray disappeared on the horizon, a gauze-like veil
of pale lilac fell over the world. But as every moment decreased the
transparency of this tropical twilight, the tint gradually lost its
softness and became darker and darker. It looked as if an invisible
painter, unceasingly moving his gigantic brush, swiftly laid one coat
of paint over the other, ever changing the exquisite background of our
islet. The phosphoric candles of the fireflies began to twinkle here and
there, shining brightly against the black trunks of the trees, and lost
again on the silvery background of opalescent evening sky. But in a
few minutes more thousands of these living sparks, precursors of Queen
Night, played round us, pouring like a golden cascade over the trees,
and dancing in the air above the grass and the dark lake.

And behold! here is the queen in person. Noiselessly descending upon
earth, she reassumes her rights. With her approach, rest and peace
spread over us; her cool breath calms the activities of day. Like a fond
mother, she sings a lullaby to nature, lovingly wrapping her in her soft
black mantle; and, when everything is asleep, she watches over nature's
dozing powers till the first streaks of dawn.

Nature sleeps; but man is awake, to be witness to the beauties of this
solemn evening hour. Sitting round the fire we talked, lowering our
voices as if afraid of awaking night. We wer