"I don't think the man really means to lie wilfully," said Mr. Kenyon; "but his imagination and his tongue run wild."
"Perhaps it's his eyes," said the doctor, smiling; "a natural failing.
The lenses are too round, and they magnify."
"Let's be charitable, and set it down as that," said Mr. Kenyon; "but it does not matter to us. It is not as if we were going to sleep ashore, and this is a novel experience."
"Novel, indeed. What a collection of moths and beetles we might make now!"
"Awkward work," replied Mr. Kenyon. "I think we might be content with enjoying the strange scene."
Both being tired with the day's exertions, the boys thought so too, and for long enough they watched the illuminated trees of the jungle, which were always changing their aspect as the fire rose and fell, emitting flashes of light, and sending up myriads of sparks or wreaths of smoke to form clouds overhead, which reflected back the light and turned the water into gold, while strange, dark shadows seemed to dance and waltz among the great trunks.
It was all so wild and beautiful that even after the men had finally replenished the fire and settled themselves down for the night under their matting shelter, spread over the fore part of the boat, no one aft felt the slightest desire to lie down and sleep.
"I couldn't sleep, could you?" said Harry, in a low tone, to Phra, as they sat in the half-closed-in cabin, now watching the surroundings of the fire, now, attracted by some sound, turning to look up or down the river.
"Sleep? No," replied Phra; "it all seems so strange and different. We've heard all these noises of a night when we've been at home, but they were far off."
"And now one is right amongst them," said Harry. "I say, are you sure your gun's loaded?"