family, and the youngsters to belong to others. We stopped and spoke,
were answered cheerfully, suggested that we might like to buy chickens,
and offered a price. Instantly with a whoop of joy the lot of them were
afoot. The fowl waited for no further intimations of troublous times,
but fled squawking. They had been there before. So had our hosts; for
inside a minute they had returned, each with a chicken--and a broad
grin.

After due payment we proceeded on a few hundred yards, and pitched camp
beneath two huge mango trees.

Besides furnishing one of the most delicious of the tropical fruits,
the mango is also one of the most beautiful of trees. It is tall,
spreads very wide, and its branches sweep to within ten feet of the
ground. Its perfect symmetry combined with the size and deep green of
its leaves causes it to resemble, from a short distance, a beautiful
green hill. Beneath its umbrella one finds dense shade, unmottled by a
single ray of sunlight, so that one can lie under it in full confidence.
For, parenthetically, even a single ray of this tropical sunlight is to
the unprotected a very dangerous thing. But the leaves of the mango have
this peculiarity, which distinguishes it from all other trees--namely,
that they grow only at the very ends of the small twigs and branches. As
these, of course, grow only at the ends of the big limbs, it follows
that from beneath the mango looks like a lofty green dome, a veritable
pantheon of the forest.

We made our camp under one of these trees; gave ourselves all the space
we could use; and had plenty left over--five tents and a cook camp, with
no crowding. It was one of the pleasantest camps I ever saw. Our green
dome overhead protected us absolutely from the sun; high sweet grass