branches cross and recross, and are bound together by
countless parasitic creepers, forming a green canopy overhead, through
which the fierce sunlight only forces a partial passage, the struggling
rays flecking the trees on which they fall with little splashes of light
and colour. The air 'hangs heavy as remembered sin,' and the gloom of a
great cathedral is on every side. Everything is damp, and moist, and
oppressive. The soil, and the cool dead leaves under foot are dank with
decay, and sodden to the touch. Enormous fungous growths flourish
luxuriantly; and over all, during the long hot hours of the day, hangs a
silence as of the grave. Though these jungles teem with life, no living
thing is to be seen, save the busy ants, a few brilliantly-coloured
butterflies and insects, and an occasional nest of bees high up in the
tree-tops. A little stream ripples its way over the pebbles of its bed,
and makes a humming murmur in the distance; a faint breeze sweeping over
the forest gently sways the upper branches of a few of the tallest
trees; but, for the rest, all is melancholy, silent, and motionless. As
the hour of sunset approaches, the tree beetles and cicada join in their
strident chorus, which tells of the dying day; the thrushes join in the
song with rich trills and grace-notes; the jungle fowls crow to one
another; the monkeys whoop and give tongue like a pack of foxhounds; the
gaudy parrots scream and flash as they hunt for flies;

And all the long-pent stream of life
Bursts downwards in a cataract.

Then, as you lie listening through the long watches of the night, sounds
are borne to you which tell that the jungle is afoot. The argus
pheasants yell to one another as the hours creep by; the far-away
trumpet of an elephant breaks the stillness; and the frightened barking
cry of a deer comes to you from across the river. The insects are awake
all night, and the little workman bird sits on a tree close by you and
drives coffin nails without number. With the dawn, the tree beetles
again raise their chorus; the birds sing and trill more sweetly than in
the evening; the monkeys bark afresh as they leap through the branches;
and the leaves of the forest glisten in the undried dew. Then, as the
sun mounts, and the dew dries, the sounds of the jungle die down one by
one, until the silence of the forest is once more unbroken for the long
hot day.

Through these jungles innumerable streams and rivers flow seawards; fo