ply thrust my
foot into his right eye, and _vice versa_ for the contrary direction. My
two big toes placed simultaneously over both his optics caused a halt so
abrupt as almost to unseat me. Sometimes I would go fully a mile out to
sea on one of these strange steeds. It always frightened them to have me
astride, and in their terror they swam at a tremendous pace until
compelled to desist through sheer exhaustion.

Before the wet season commenced I put a straw thatch on the roof of my
hut, as before stated, and made my quarters as snug as possible. And it
was a very necessary precaution, too, for sometimes it rained for days at
a stretch. The rain never kept me indoors, however, and I took exercise
just the same, as I didn't bother about clothes, and rather enjoyed the
shower bath. I was always devising means of making life more tolerable,
and amongst other things I made a sort of swing, which I found extremely
useful in beguiling time. I would also practise jumping with long poles.
One day I captured a young pelican, and trained him to accompany me in my
walks and assist me in my fishing operations. He also acted as a decoy.
Frequently I would hide myself in some grass, whilst my pet bird walked a
few yards away to attract his fellows. Presently he would be joined by a
whole flock, many of which I lassoed, or shot with my bow and arrows.

But for my dog--my almost human Bruno--I think I must have died. I used
to talk to him precisely as though he were a human being. We were
absolutely inseparable. I preached long sermons to him from Gospel
texts. I told him in a loud voice all about my early life and school-
days at Montreux; I recounted to him all my adventures, from the fatal
meeting with poor Peter Jensen in Singapore, right up to the present; I
sang little _chansons_ to him, and among these he had his favourites as
well as those he disliked cordially. If he did not care for a song, he
would set up a pitiful howl. I feel convinced that this constant
communing aloud with my dog saved my reason. Bruno seemed always to be
in such good spirits that I never dreamed of anything happening to him;
and his quiet, sympathetic companionship was one of the greatest
blessings I knew throughout many weird and terrible years. As I talked
to him he would sit at my feet, looking so intelligently at me that I
fancied he understood every word of what I was saying.

When the religious mania was upon me, I talked over a