d
take me to the verge or into the water.

Once I did what for me was a most unusual thing. I woke in the middle
of the night without apparent reason. The moonlight was pouring in a
white flood through the bamboos, and the jungle was breathless and
silent. Through my window I could see Jennie, our pet monkey, lying
aloft, asleep on her little verandah, head cushioned on both hands,
tail curled around her dangling chain, as a spider guards her
web-strands for hint of disturbing vibrations. I knew that the
slightest touch on that chain would awaken her, and indeed it seemed
as if the very thought of it had been enough; for she opened her eyes,
sent me the highest of insect-like notes and turned over, pushing her
head within the shadow of her little house. I wondered if animals,
too, were, like the Malays and so many savage tribes, afraid of the
moonlight--the "luna-cy" danger in those strange color-strained rays,
whose power must be greater than we realize. Beyond the monkey roosted
Robert, the great macaw, wide-awake, watching me with all that
broadside of intensive gaze of which only a parrot is capable.

The three of us seemed to be the only living things in the world, and
for a long time we--monkey, macaw, and man--listened. Then all but the
man became uneasy. The monkey raised herself and listened, uncurled
her tail, shifted, and listened. The macaw drew himself up, feathers
close, forgot me, and listened. They, unlike me, were not merely
listening--they were hearing something. Then there came, very slowly
and deliberately, as if reluctant to break through the silent
moonlight, a sound, low and constant, impossible to identify, but
clearly audible even to my ears. For just an instant longer it held,
sustained and quivering, then swiftly rose into a crashing roar--the
sound of a great tree falling. I sat up and heard the whole long
descent; but at the end, after the moment of silence, there was no
deep boom--the sound of the mighty bole striking and rebounding from
the earth itself. I wondered about this for a while; then the monkey
and I went to sleep, leaving the macaw alone conscious in the
moonlight, watching through the night with his great round, yellow
orbs, and thinking the thoughts that macaws always think in the
moonlight.

The next day the macaw and the monkey had forgotten all about the
midnight sound, but I searched and found why there was no final boom.
And my search ended at my beach. A bit of overh