The fact of the boat being motionless there by the side of the river, and all on board sitting quietly watching the abundant beautiful objects around, made the various inhabitants of the jungle on either side come out of their hiding-places and take no further heed of their presence; consequently until the men had finished their breakfast there was ample opportunity for a quiet, observant natural history study, and Mr. Kenyon remarked,—
"It is, after all, better to be content with watching nature in a place like this than shooting specimens and preserving them in a miserable imitation of the natural shape. For how poor and pitiful they are at the best."
"That's true enough," said the doctor, smiling; "but you would not make a museum of our memories."
"Why not?" said Mr. Kenyon.
"Because memory is weak, and our description of what we have seen to other people who could never by any possibility see the beautiful creatures we have encountered, would come very far short. I think that the sight of the poorest skin that we have preserved would make ten times the impression on another's mind that a month's talking could."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon, "and nature is so abundant."
By this time the men had resumed their oars, and the boat was gliding rapidly up the river, the boys being ready to point out where they had shot the birds they had taken back, and seen the monkey which had watched them on their way.
So far they had met no crocodiles, but as they went higher it seemed as if, though they kept themselves out of sight, several were in the narrow river and were retiring before them, till the water growing more shallow they began to show from time to time.
The boys seized their guns upon catching sight of the two prominences which contained the reptile's eyes appearing above the surface some thirty yards ahead, but Mr. Kenyon checked them.
"Don't shoot," he said, "it is of no use to kill a few among so many."