In the brief space of a few seconds a thousand things run through one's mind. Not prompted by fear, but by suspense. Is it best to fire into the black shadows, or to wait for his attack? What is his exact pose? What does he intend? How big is he? Can he see me? And a category of similar questions arise at this critical moment.
A clash of bushes, and he is gone. Not with the stealthy, cautious steps with which he advanced, but in hot haste. He has taken alarm, abandoned his purpose, and far away I can hear the dry twigs crashing as he hurries to some remote nook. He flees as if he thought he was being pursued. He is gone, and I feel a sense of relief.
It is ten o'clock, the low rumbling of distant thunder is all that remains of the tornado that swept over me a few hours ago. The stars are shining, but the foliage of the forest is so dense, that I can only see one here and there, peeping through the tangled boughs overhead. I hear some little waif among the dead leaves, but what it is, or what it wants, can only be surmised.
Another hour is passed, and I retire to my hammock. The sounds of nocturnal birds are fewer now. I hear a strange, tremulous sound up in the boughs of the bushes near the cage. It sounds like the leaves vibrating. It ceases, and begins again at intervals. I listen with attention, for it is very singular. It is a huge python in search of birds. He reaches his head and neck forward, grasps the bough of a slender bush, releases his coil from another, and by contraction draws his slimy body forward. The pliant boughs yield to his heavy weight. The abrasion causes it to tremble, and the leaves to quake.
I fall asleep and rest in comfort, while the dew that has fallen on the leaves gathers itself into huge drops, their weight bends the leaves, and they fall from their lofty perch, striking those far below with a sharp, popping sound. The hours fly by, but in the stillness of the early morning is heard a most unearthly scream. It is a king gorilla. He simply makes every leaf in the forest tremble with the sound of his piercing shrieks.
The dawn again awakes to life the teeming forest, and all its denizens again go forth to join the universal chase for food.
All of these incidents cited are true in every detail, but they did not occur every day, nor did all of them occur on the same day, as would be inferred from the manner in which they are related.
This gives a glimpse of my real daily life in the jungle, but the monotony was often relieved by going out for a day or two at a time, or hunting on the plains, a few miles away. My menu was occasionally varied by a chicken, piece of goat, fish or porcupine; but the general average of it was about as described.