rom her pocket, and, kneeling
down, measured the dog.

"No," she said, looking up at me, "he couldn't contain them."

Inspired by her coolness and perfect composure, I set the rifle in the
corner and opened the door. Sunlight fell in bars through the quiet
woods; nothing stirred on land or water save the great, yellow-striped
butterflies that fluttered and soared and floated above the flowering
thickets bordering the jungle.

The heat became intense; Miss Barrison went to her room to change her
gown for a lighter one; I sat down under a live-oak, eyes and ears
strained for any sign of our invisible neighbors.

When she emerged in the lightest and filmiest of summer gowns, she
brought the camera with her; and for a while we took pictures of each
other, until we had used up all but one film.

Desiring to possess a picture of Miss Barrison and myself seated
together, I tied a string to the shutter-lever and attached the other
end of the string to the dog, who had resumed his interrupted
slumbers. At my whistle he jumped up nervously, snapping the lever,
and the picture was taken.

With such innocent and harmless pastime we whiled away the afternoon.
She made twelve more apple-pies. I mounted guard over them. And we
were just beginning to feel a trifle uneasy about Professor Farrago,
when he appeared, tramping sturdily through the forest, green umbrella
and butterfly-net under one arm, shot-gun and cyanide-jar under the
other, and his breast all criss-crossed with straps, from which
dangled field-glasses, collecting-boxes, and botanizing-tins--an
inspiring figure indeed--the embodied symbol of science indomitable,
triumphant!

We hailed him with three guilty cheers; the dog woke up with a
perfunctory bark--the first sound I had heard from him since he yelped
his disapproval of me on the lagoon.

Miss Barrison produced three bowls full of boiling water and dropped
three pellets of concentrated soup-meat into them, while I prepared
coffee. And in a few moments our simple dinner was ready--the red
ants had been dusted from the biscuits, the spiders chased off the
baked beans, the scorpions shaken from the napkins, and we sat down at
the rough, improvised table under the palms.

The professor gave us a brief but modest account of his short tour of
exploration. He had brought back a new species of orchid, several
undescribed beetles, and a pocketful of coontie seed. He appeared,
however, to be tired and singularly de