"Bye-bye!"
"So long!" he answered, lighting a cigarette.
I went along the narrow pathway which led to our first cage, alone—and a little scared (although I wouldn't have admitted it to myself or anyone else for worlds).
There is something terribly unnerving about the perpetual, twilight gloom of the great African forests, unpenetrated by the sun even at mid-day. The trees lean over and threaten one with their immense bulk of branch and leaf; the bushes harbor God knows what crawling and prowling peril; and the swaying tendrils wave their arms to and fro like long, sentient things. All vegetable life seems to be working in unison with the animal life which creeps behind its dark and sinister shelter. One is given no respite.
There is always that sense of a Vindictive Something sneaking behind, or waiting in ambush in front, or prowling alongside—watching for its opportunity to spring. The snap of a twig, the sudden flight of a bird, the scurry of something small and harmless, the sough of the wind (like a deep breath), the rustle of leaves, the pad-pad of one's own feet, even the thumping of one's own heart—all these sounds are instantly translated into a sign of some terrible, carnivorous menace. One's sense of hearing becomes painfully acute—almost raw! One's nerves become keyed up to the breaking point. One's feeling of immense loneliness is appalling—and palpable!
As I hurried along, the conviction grew that I was no longer Man, the Lord of Creation, but merely a poor little defenceless creature, fleeing through a land of hideous, nightmare shapes. Of what use was a sporting rifle, or a revolver? I could not aim in the dark. And, even if I could, there was still the danger of being taken unawares.
What was that?
Merely, the shrill cry of a parrot. . . .
I tried to laugh at my folly, and, as a temporary diversion, I even tried to picture the wet and glistening streets converging on Piccadilly Circus—that symbol of a great civilized city where Man was indeed omnipotent.
But the vision would not persist. It became an epitome of vain endeavor. New York, London, Paris, all those huge capitals—what were they? Little blobs of buildings, which did not cover a millionth part of the world's wide surface; mere temporary excrescences on the immobile face of Mother Earth.