Green Mansions: A Romance of the Tropical Forest Read online

  CHAPTER I

  Now that we are cool, he said, and regret that we hurt each other, I amnot sorry that it happened. I deserved your reproach: a hundred timesI have wished to tell you the whole story of my travels and adventuresamong the savages, and one of the reasons which prevented me was thefear that it would have an unfortunate effect on our friendship. Thatwas precious, and I desired above everything to keep it. But I mustthink no more about that now. I must think only of how I am to tell youmy story. I will begin at a time when I was twenty-three. It was earlyin life to be in the thick of politics, and in trouble to the extent ofhaving to fly my country to save my liberty, perhaps my life.

  Every nation, someone remarks, has the government it deserves, andVenezuela certainly has the one it deserves and that suits it best. Wecall it a republic, not only because it is not one, but also because athing must have a name; and to have a good name, or a fine name, isvery convenient--especially when you want to borrow money. If theVenezuelans, thinly distributed over an area of half a million squaremiles, mostly illiterate peasants, half-breeds, and indigenes, wereeducated, intelligent men, zealous only for the public weal, it wouldbe possible for them to have a real republic. They have insteada government by cliques, tempered by revolution and a very goodgovernment it is, in harmony with the physical conditions of the countryand the national temperament. Now, it happens that the educated men,representing your higher classes, are so few that there are not manypersons unconnected by ties of blood or marriage with prominent membersof the political groups to which they belong. By this you will see howeasy and almost inevitable it is that we should become accustomed tolook on conspiracy and revolt against the regnant party--the men ofanother clique--as only in the natural order of things. In the eventof failure such outbreaks are punished, but they are not regarded asimmoral. On the contrary, men of the highest intelligence and virtueamong us are seen taking a leading part in these adventures. Whethersuch a condition of things is intrinsically wrong or not, or would bewrong in some circumstances and is not wrong, because inevitable, inothers, I cannot pretend to decide; and all this tiresome profusionis only to enable you to understand how I--a young man of unblemishedcharacter, not a soldier by profession, not ambitious of politicaldistinction, wealthy for that country, popular in society, a lover ofsocial pleasures, of books, of nature actuated, as I believed, by thehighest motives, allowed myself to be drawn very readily by friends andrelations into a conspiracy to overthrow the government of the moment,with the object of replacing it by more worthy men--ourselves, to wit.

  Our adventure failed because the authorities got wind of the affairand matters were precipitated. Our leaders at the moment happened to bescattered over the country--some were abroad; and a few hotheaded menof the party, who were in Caracas just then and probably feared arrest,struck a rash blow: the President was attacked in the street andwounded. But the attackers were seized, and some of them shot on thefollowing day. When the news reached me I was at a distance from thecapital, staying with a friend on an estate he owned on the RiverQuebrada Honda, in the State of Guarico, some fifteen to twenty milesfrom the town of Zaraza. My friend, an officer in the army, was a leaderin the conspiracy; and as I was the only son of a man who had beengreatly hated by the Minister of War, it became necessary for us bothto fly for our lives. In the circumstances we could not look to bepardoned, even on the score of youth.

  Our first decision was to escape to the sea-coast; but as the risk of ajourney to La Guayra, or any other port of embarkation on the northside of the country, seemed too great, we made our way in a contrarydirection to the Orinoco, and downstream to Angostura. Now, when we hadreached this comparatively safe breathing-place--safe, at all events,for the moment--I changed my mind about leaving or attempting to leavethe country. Since boyhood I had taken a very peculiar interest in thatvast and almost unexplored territory we possess south of the Orinoco,with its countless unmapped rivers and trackless forests; and inits savage inhabitants, with their ancient customs and character,unadulterated by contact with Europeans. To visit this primitivewilderness had been a cherished dream; and I had to some extent evenprepared myself for such an adventure by mastering more than one of theIndian dialects of the northern states of Venezuela. And now, findingmyself on the south side of our great river, with unlimited time atmy disposal, I determined to gratify this wish. My companion took hisdeparture towards the coast, while I set about making preparations andhunting up information from those who had travelled in the interior totrade with the savages. I decided eventually to go back upstream andpenetrate to the interior in the western part of Guayana, and theAmazonian territory bordering on Colombia and Brazil, and to return toAngostura in about six months' time. I had no fear of being arrestedin the semi-independent and in most part savage region, as the Guayanaauthorities concerned themselves little enough about the politicalupheavals at Caracas.

  The first five or six months I spent in Guayana, after leaving the cityof refuge, were eventful enough to satisfy a moderately adventurousspirit. A complaisant government employee at Angostura had providedme with a passport, in which it was set down (for few to read) that myobject in visiting the interior was to collect information concerningthe native tribes, the vegetable products of the country, and otherknowledge which would be of advantage to the Republic; and theauthorities were requested to afford me protection and assist me in mypursuits. I ascended the Orinoco, making occasional expeditions to thesmall Christian settlements in the neighbourhood of the right bank, alsoto the Indian villages; and travelling in this way, seeing and learningmuch, in about three months I reached the River Metal. During thisperiod I amused myself by keeping a journal, a record of personaladventures, impressions of the country and people, both semi-civilizedand savage; and as my journal grew, I began to think that on my returnat some future time to Caracas, it might prove useful and interesting tothe public, and also procure me fame; which thought proved pleasurableand a great incentive, so that I began to observe things more narrowlyand to study expression. But the book was not to be.

  From the mouth of the Meta I journeyed on, intending to visit thesettlement of Atahapo, where the great River Guaviare, with otherrivers, empties itself into the Orinoco. But I was not destined to reachit, for at the small settlement of Manapuri I fell ill of a low fever;and here ended the first half-year of my wanderings, about which no moreneed be told.

  A more miserable place than Manapuri for a man to be ill of a low feverin could not well be imagined. The settlement, composed of mean hovels,with a few large structures of mud, or plastered wattle, thatchedwith palm leaves, was surrounded by water, marsh, and forest, thebreeding-place of myriads of croaking frogs and of clouds of mosquitoes;even to one in perfect health existence in such a place would havebeen a burden. The inhabitants mustered about eighty or ninety, mostlyIndians of that degenerate class frequently to be met with in smalltrading outposts. The savages of Guayana are great drinkers, but notdrunkards in our sense, since their fermented liquors contain solittle alcohol that inordinate quantities must be swallowed to produceintoxication in the settlements they prefer the white man's more potentpoisons, with the result that in a small place like Manapuri one can seeenacted, as on a stage, the last act in the great American tragedy. Tobe succeeded, doubtless, by other and possibly greater tragedies. Mythoughts at that period of suffering were pessimistic in the extreme.Sometimes, when the almost continuous rain held up for half a day, Iwould manage to creep out a short distance; but I was almost past makingany exertion, scarcely caring to live, and taking absolutely no interestin the news from Caracas, which reached me at long intervals. At the endof two months, feeling a slight improvement in my health, and with it areturning interest in life and its affairs, it occurred to me to getout my diary and write a brief account of my sojourn at Manapuri. I hadplaced it for safety in a small deal box, lent to me for the purposeby a Venezuelan trader, an old resident at the settlement, by namePantaleon--called by all Don Panta--one who openly kept half a dozenIndia
n wives in his house, and was noted for his dishonesty and greed,but who had proved himself a good friend to me. The box was in a cornerof the wretched palm-thatched hovel I inhabited; but on taking it out Idiscovered that for several weeks the rain had been dripping on it, andthat the manuscript was reduced to a sodden pulp. I flung it upon thefloor with a curse and threw myself back on my bed with a groan.

  In that desponding state I was found by my friend Panta, who wasconstant in his visits at all hours; and when in answer to his anxiousinquiries I pointed to the pulpy mass on the mud floor, he turned itover with his foot, and then, bursting into a loud laugh, kicked it out,remarking that he had mistaken the object for some unknown reptile thathad crawled in out of the rain. He affected to be astonished that Ishould regret its loss. It was all a true narrative, he exclaimed; ifI wished to write a book for the stay-at-homes to read, I could easilyinvent a thousand lies far more entertaining than any real experiences.He had come to me, he said, to propose something. He had lived twentyyears at that place, and had got accustomed to the climate, but it wouldnot do for me to remain any longer if I wished to live. I must go awayat once to a different country--to the mountains, where it was open anddry. "And if you want quinine when you are there," he concluded, "smellthe wind when it blows from the south-west, and you will inhale it intoyour system, fresh from the forest." When I remarked despondingly thatin my condition it would be impossible to quit Manapuri, he went on tosay that a small party of Indians was now in the settlement; that theyhad come, not only to trade, but to visit one of their own tribe, whowas his wife, purchased some years ago from her father. "And the moneyshe cost me I have never regretted to this day," said he, "for she is agood wife not jealous," he added, with a curse on all the others. TheseIndians came all the way from the Queneveta mountains, and were of theMaquiritari tribe. He, Panta, and, better still, his good wife wouldinterest them on my behalf, and for a suitable reward they would take meby slow, easy stages to their own country, where I would be treated welland recover my health.

  This proposal, after I had considered it well, produced so good aneffect on me that I not only gave a glad consent, but, on the followingday, I was able to get about and begin the preparations for my journeywith some spirit.

  In about eight days I bade good-bye to my generous friend Panta, whom Iregarded, after having seen much of him, as a kind of savage beast thathad sprung on me, not to rend, but to rescue from death; for weknow that even cruel savage brutes and evil men have at times sweet,beneficent impulses, during which they act in a way contrary to theirnatures, like passive agents of some higher power. It was a continualpain to travel in my weak condition, and the patience of my Indianswas severely taxed; but they did not forsake me; and at last the entiredistance, which I conjectured to be about sixty-five leagues, wasaccomplished; and at the end I was actually stronger and better inevery way than at the start. From this time my progress towards completerecovery was rapid. The air, with or without any medicinal virtue blownfrom the cinchona trees in the far-off Andean forest, was tonic; andwhen I took my walks on the hillside above the Indian village, or laterwhen able to climb to the summits, the world as seen from thosewild Queneveta mountains had a largeness and varied glory of scenerypeculiarly refreshing and delightful to the soul.

  With the Maquiritari tribe I passed some weeks, and the sweet sensationsof returning health made me happy for a time; but such sensations seldomoutlast convalescence. I was no sooner well again than I began to feela restless spirit stirring in me. The monotony of savage life in thisplace became intolerable. After my long listless period the reaction hadcome, and I wished only for action, adventure--no matter how dangerous;and for new scenes, new faces, new dialects. In the end I conceived theidea of going on to the Casiquiare river, where I would find a few smallsettlements, and perhaps obtain help from the authorities there whichwould enable me to reach the Rio Negro. For it was now in my mind tofollow that river to the Amazons, and so down to Para and the Atlanticcoast.

  Leaving the Queneveta range, I started with two of the Indians as guidesand travelling companions; but their journey ended only half-way to theriver I wished to reach; and they left me with some friendly savagesliving on the Chunapay, a tributary of the Cunucumana, which flows tothe Orinoco. Here I had no choice but to wait until an opportunity ofattaching myself to some party of travelling Indians going south-westshould arrive; for by this time I had expended the whole of my smallcapital in ornaments and calico brought from Manapuri, so that I couldno longer purchase any man's service. And perhaps it will be as wellto state at this point just what I possessed. For some time I had wornnothing but sandals to protect my feet; my garments consisted of asingle suit, and one flannel shirt, which I washed frequently, goingshirtless while it was drying. Fortunately I had an excellent blue clothcloak, durable and handsome, given to me by a friend at Angostura, whoseprophecy on presenting it, that it would outlast ME, very nearly cametrue. It served as a covering by night, and to keep a man warm andcomfortable when travelling in cold and wet weather no better garmentwas ever made. I had a revolver and metal cartridge-box in my broadleather belt, also a good hunting-knife with strong buckhorn handle anda heavy blade about nine inches long. In the pocket of my cloak I had apretty silver tinder-box, and a match-box--to be mentioned again in thisnarrative--and one or two other trifling objects; these I was determinedto keep until they could be kept no longer.

  During the tedious interval of waiting on the Chunapay I was told aflattering tale by the village Indians, which eventually caused meto abandon the proposed journey to the Rio Negro. These Indians worenecklets, like nearly all the Guayana savages; but one, I observed,possessed a necklet unlike that of the others, which greatly aroused mycuriosity. It was made of thirteen gold plates, irregular in form, aboutas broad as a man's thumb-nail, and linked together with fibres. I wasallowed to examine it, and had no doubt that the pieces were of puregold, beaten flat by the savages. When questioned about it, they saidit was originally obtained from the Indians of Parahuari, and Parahuari,they further said, was a mountainous country west of the Orinoco. Everyman and woman in that place, they assured me, had such a necklet. Thisreport inflamed my mind to such a degree that I could not rest by nightor day for dreaming golden dreams, and considering how to get to thatrich district, unknown to civilized men. The Indians gravely shook theirheads when I tried to persuade them to take me. They were far enoughfrom the Orinoco, and Parahuari was ten, perhaps fifteen, days' journeyfurther on--a country unknown to them, where they had no relations.

  In spite of difficulties and delays, however, and not without pain andsome perilous adventures, I succeeded at last in reaching the upperOrinoco, and, eventually, in crossing to the other side. With my lifein my hand I struggled on westward through an unknown difficult country,from Indian village to village, where at any moment I might have beenmurdered with impunity for the sake of my few belongings. It is hard forme to speak a good word for the Guayana savages; but I must now say thisof them, that they not only did me no harm when I was at their mercyduring this long journey, but they gave me shelter in their villages,and fed me when I was hungry, and helped me on my way when I could makeno return. You must not, however, run away with the idea that there isany sweetness in their disposition, any humane or benevolent instinctssuch as are found among the civilized nations: far from it. I regardthem now, and, fortunately for me, I regarded them then, when, as I havesaid, I was at their mercy, as beasts of prey, plus a cunning or lowkind of intelligence vastly greater than that of the brute; and, foronly morality, that respect for the rights of other members of the samefamily, or tribe, without which even the rudest communities cannot holdtogether. How, then, could I do this thing, and dwell and travel freely,without receiving harm, among tribes that have no peace with and nokindly feelings towards the stranger, in a district where the whiteman is rarely or never seen? Because I knew them so well. Without thatknowledge, always available, and an extreme facility in acquiring newdialects, which had increased by prac
tice until it was almost likeintuition, I should have fared badly after leaving the Maquiritaritribe. As it was, I had two or three very narrow escapes.

  To return from this digression. I looked at last on the famous Parahuarimountains, which, I was greatly surprised to find, were after allnothing but hills, and not very high ones. This, however, did notimpress me. The very fact that Parahuari possessed no imposing featurein its scenery seemed rather to prove that it must be rich in gold: howelse could its name and the fame of its treasures be familiar to peopledwelling so far away as the Cunucumana?

  But there was no gold. I searched through the whole range, which wasabout seven leagues long, and visited the villages, where I talked muchwith the Indians, interrogating them, and they had no necklets ofgold, nor gold in any form; nor had they ever heard of its presence inParahuari or in any other place known to them.

  The very last village where I spoke on the subject of my quest, albeitnow without hope, was about a league from the western extremity of therange, in the midst of a high broken country of forest and savannah andmany swift streams; near one of these, called the Curicay, the villagestood, among low scattered trees--a large building, in which all thepeople, numbering eighteen, passed most of their time when not hunting,with two smaller buildings attached to it. The head, or chief, Runi byname, was about fifty years old, a taciturn, finely formed, and somewhatdignified savage, who was either of a sullen disposition or not wellpleased at the intrusion of a white man. And for a time I made noattempt to conciliate him. What profit was there in it at all? Eventhat light mask, which I had worn so long and with such good effect,incommoded me now: I would cast it aside and be myself--silent andsullen as my barbarous host. If any malignant purpose was taking formin his mind, let it, and let him do his worst; for when failure firststares a man in the face, it has so dark and repellent a look that notanything that can be added can make him more miserable; nor has he anyapprehension. For weeks I had been searching with eager, feverisheyes in every village, in every rocky crevice, in every noisy mountainstreamlet, for the glittering yellow dust I had travelled so far tofind. And now all my beautiful dreams--all the pleasure and power tobe--had vanished like a mere mirage on the savannah at noon.

  It was a day of despair which I spent in this place, sitting all dayindoors, for it was raining hard, immersed in my own gloomy thoughts,pretending to doze in my seat, and out of the narrow slits of myhalf-closed eyes seeing the others, also sitting or moving about, likeshadows or people in a dream; and I cared nothing about them, and wishednot to seem friendly, even for the sake of the food they might offer meby and by.

  Towards evening the rain ceased; and rising up I went out a shortdistance to the neighbouring stream, where I sat on a stone and, castingoff my sandals, laved my bruised feet in the cool running water. Thewestern half of the sky was blue again with that tender lucid blueseen after rain, but the leaves still glittered with water, and the wettrunks looked almost black under the green foliage. The rare lovelinessof the scene touched and lightened my heart. Away back in the eastthe hills of Parahuari, with the level sun full on them, loomed with astrange glory against the grey rainy clouds drawing off on that side,and their new mystic beauty almost made me forget how these same hillshad wearied, and hurt, and mocked me. On that side, also to the northand south, there was open forest, but to the west a different prospectmet the eye. Beyond the stream and the strip of verdure that fringed it,and the few scattered dwarf trees growing near its banks, spread a brownsavannah sloping upwards to a long, low, rocky ridge, beyond which rosea great solitary hill, or rather mountain, conical in form, and clothedin forest almost to the summit. This was the mountain Ytaioa, the chieflandmark in that district. As the sun went down over the ridge, beyondthe savannah, the whole western sky changed to a delicate rose colourthat had the appearance of rose-coloured smoke blown there by some faroff-wind, and left suspended--a thin, brilliant veil showing through itthe distant sky beyond, blue and ethereal. Flocks of birds, a kind oftroupial, were flying past me overhead, flock succeeding flock, on theirway to their roosting-place, uttering as they flew a clear, bell-likechirp; and there was something ethereal too in those drops of melodioussound, which fell into my heart like raindrops falling into a pool tomix their fresh heavenly water with the water of earth.

  Doubtless into the turbid tarn of my heart some sacred drops hadfallen--from the passing birds, from that crimson disk which had nowdropped below the horizon, the darkening hills, the rose and blue ofinfinite heaven, from the whole visible circle; and I felt purifiedand had a strange sense and apprehension of a secret innocence andspirituality in nature--a prescience of some bourn, incalculably distantperhaps, to which we are all moving; of a time when the heavenly rainshall have washed us clean from all spot and blemish. This unexpectedpeace which I had found now seemed to me of infinitely greater valuethan that yellow metal I had missed finding, with all its possibilities.My wish now was to rest for a season at this spot, so remote and lovelyand peaceful, where I had experienced such unusual feelings and such ablessed disillusionment.

  This was the end of my second period in Guayana: the first had beenfilled with that dream of a book to win me fame in my country, perhapseven in Europe; the second, from the time of leaving the Quenevetamountains, with the dream of boundless wealth--the old dream of goldin this region that has drawn so many minds since the days of FranciscoPizarro. But to remain I must propitiate Runi, sitting silent withgloomy brows over there indoors; and he did not appear to me like onethat might be won with words, however flattering. It was clear tome that the time had come to part with my one remaining valuabletrinket--the tinder-box of chased silver.

  I returned to the house and, going in, seated myself on a log by thefire, just opposite to my grim host, who was smoking and appeared notto have moved since I left him. I made myself a cigarette, then drew outthe tinder-box, with its flint and steel attached to it by means oftwo small silver chains. His eyes brightened a little as they curiouslywatched my movements, and he pointed without speaking to the glowingcoals of fire at my feet. I shook my head, and striking the steel, sentout a brilliant spray of sparks, then blew on the tinder and lit mycigarette.

  This done, instead of returning the box to my pocket I passed the chainthrough the buttonhole of my cloak and let it dangle on my breast asan ornament. When the cigarette was smoked, I cleared my throat in theorthodox manner and fixed my eyes on Runi, who, on his part, made aslight movement to indicate that he was ready to listen to what I had tosay.

  My speech was long, lasting at least half an hour, delivered ina profound silence; it was chiefly occupied with an account of mywanderings in Guayana; and being little more than a catalogue of namesof all the places I had visited, and the tribes and chief or head menwith whom I had come in contact, I was able to speak continuously, andso to hide my ignorance of a dialect which was still new to me.The Guayana savage judges a man for his staying powers. To stand asmotionless as a bronze statue for one or two hours watching for abird; to sit or lie still for half a day; to endure pain, not seldomself-inflicted, without wincing; and when delivering a speech to pourit out in a copious stream, without pausing to take breath or hesitatingover a word--to be able to do all this is to prove yourself a man, anequal, one to be respected and even made a friend of. What I reallywished to say to him was put in a few words at the conclusion of mywell-nigh meaningless oration. Everywhere, I said, I had been theIndian's friend, and I wished to be his friend, to live with him atParahuari, even as I had lived with other chiefs and heads of villagesand families; to be looked on by him, as these others had looked on me,not as a stranger or a white man, but as a friend, a brother, an Indian.

  I ceased speaking, and there was a slight murmurous sound in the room,as of wind long pent up in many lungs suddenly exhaled; while Runi,still unmoved, emitted a low grunt. Then I rose, and detaching thesilver ornament from my cloak, presented it to him. He accepted it; notvery graciously, as a stranger to these people might have imagined; butI was satisfie
d, feeling sure that I had made a favourable impression.After a little he handed the box to the person sitting next to him, whoexamined it and passed it on to a third, and in this way it went roundand came back once more to Runi. Then he called for a drink. Therehappened to be a store of casserie in the house; probably the women hadbeen busy for some days past in making it, little thinking that it wasdestined to be prematurely consumed. A large jarful was produced; Runipolitely quaffed the first cup; I followed; then the others; and thewomen drank also, a woman taking about one cupful to a man's three.Runi and I, however, drank the most, for we had our positions as the twoprincipal personages there to maintain. Tongues were loosened now; forthe alcohol, small as the quantity contained in this mild liquor is, hadbegun to tell on our brains. I had not their pottle-shaped stomach, madeto hold unlimited quantities of meat and drink; but I was determined onthis most important occasion not to deserve my host's contempt--to becompared, perhaps, to the small bird that delicately picks up six dropsof water in its bill and is satisfied. I would measure my strengthagainst his, and if necessary drink myself into a state ofinsensibility.

  At last I was scarcely able to stand on my legs. But even the seasonedold savage was affected by this time. In vino veritas, said theancients; and the principle holds good where there is no vinum, but onlymild casserie. Runi now informed me that he had once known a white man,that he was a bad man, which had caused him to say that all white menwere bad; even as David, still more sweepingly, had proclaimed that allmen were liars. Now he found that it was not so, that I was a good man.His friendliness increased with intoxication. He presented me with acurious little tinder-box, made from the conical tail of an armadillo,hollowed out, and provided with a wooden stopper--this to be used inplace of the box I had deprived myself of. He also furnished me with agrass hammock, and had it hung up there and then, so that I could liedown when inclined. There was nothing he would not do for me. And atlast, when many more cups had been emptied, and a third or fourth jarbrought out, he began to unburthen his heart of its dark and dangeroussecrets. He shed tears--for the "man without a tear" dwells not in thewoods of Guayana: tears for those who had been treacherously slain longyears ago; for his father, who had been killed by Tripica, the fatherof Managa, who was still above ground. But let him and all his peoplebeware of Runi. He had spilt their blood before, he had fed the fox andvulture with their flesh, and would never rest while Managa lived withhis people at Uritay--the five hills of Uritay, which were two days'journey from Parahuari. While thus talking of his old enemy he lashedhimself into a kind of frenzy, smiting his chest and gnashing his teeth;and finally seizing a spear, he buried its point deep into the clayfloor, only to wrench it out and strike it into the earth again andagain, to show how he would serve Managa, and any one of Managa's peoplehe might meet with--man, woman, or child. Then he staggered out from thedoor to flourish his spear; and looking to the north-west, he shoutedaloud to Managa to come and slay his people and burn down his house, ashe had so often threatened to do.

  "Let him come! Let Managa come!" I cried, staggering out after him. "Iam your friend, your brother; I have no spear and no arrows, but I havethis--this!" And here I drew out and flourished my revolver. "Where isManaga?" I continued. "Where are the hills of Uritay?" He pointed toa star low down in the south-west. "Then," I shouted, "let this bulletfind Managa, sitting by the fire among his people, and let him fall andpour out his blood on the ground!" And with that I discharged my pistolin the direction he had pointed to. A scream of terror burst out fromthe women and children, while Runi at my side, in an access of fiercedelight and admiration, turned and embraced me. It was the first andlast embrace I ever suffered from a naked male savage, and althoughthis did not seem a time for fastidious feelings, to be hugged to hissweltering body was an unpleasant experience.

  More cups of casserie followed this outburst; and at last, unable tokeep it up any longer, I staggered to my hammock; but being unable toget into it, Runi, overflowing with kindness, came to my assistance,whereupon we fell and rolled together on the floor. Finally I was raisedby the others and tumbled into my swinging bed, and fell at once into adeep, dreamless sleep, from which I did not awake until after sunrise onthe following morning.