reach my cabin, but hurry as I
would it never came in sight. I could not understand this at all until
suddenly (with what dismay I will leave my reader to imagine) I
perceived that I had been following the tracks of a bear, believing them
to have been a man's.

Alarmed, I looked about me on every side, scrutinizing every part; I
advanced a little this way and that, then retraced my steps, anxiously
endeavouring to find out a clue to the right direction.

Alas! there was no mistaking the truth; I was lost in the depth of the
forest, and what was worse, at nightfall!

Little by little anguish parched my throat and drops of cold sweat stood
on my brow. What could I do? If I remained on the ground I should be
exposed to the fatal caresses of some wild beast, on the other hand if I
climbed up a tree (no very easy matter as I should have to find a
creeper strong enough to bear my weight) should I not be equally exposed
to the deadly clasp of a snake?

The darker it grew, the more my bewilderment and anxiety increased. I
began to hollo desperately, calling frantically for help with such a
piercing voice as I had never dreamt of possessing before. It was my
only and last hope.

Tired, hungry, thirsty and disheartened I continued to shout as loudly
as I could and at last it seemed to me that a human voice answered my
wild cries from a distance. Once more I bawled with all my might and
then listened. Yes, there was no doubt; someone had heard me, and with
the auricular acuteness of despair I turned towards the direction of
the sound and hurried forward.

It was not long before I came across a solitary hut that I found to be
inhabited by a family of six persons.

I narrated my perilous adventure and they gave me food (which was
certainly not intended for delicate stomachs) and water, and I, in
return, handed round some tobacco, then, tranquil as regarded the night,
with a sigh of relief I lighted my pipe, the ever faithful companion of
my travels, and began to chat with the old man, the head of the family.

I intentionally introduced the Sakais' dislike for work and asked him
the reason why.

Very quietly, and without the least hesitation, he replied:

"Why should we give ourselves the pain and fatigue of working like
slaves? Does not the earth give us, spontaneously, more than enough for
our need without tormenting it with implements?".

The argument was logical, but I smiled and remarked:

"It does not seem to me