Her dexterity was marvellous. In a few seconds the drug was detached from the skewer, and was rolled into a little ball about the size of a pea. She threw a glance at Tho which meant, "Are you ready?" He nodded, and started drawing at the bamboo. A gentle movement, and the skewer pushed the ball of opium on to the tiny hole, and it was held just over the lamp. There was a frizzle as the drug began to burn, continuing under the steady prolonged suction of the smoker. There was no smoke, for it was all going up the pipe into the little brown man's lungs. His eyes were half closed, and his features expressed a gentle beatitude, but his chest was swelling, swelling. Soon he could not continue the steady suction, and he drew at the bamboo with a succession of quick, small pants. His wife, in the meanwhile, held the bowl well over the flame, and pushed up to the orifice the tiny particles of the drug still adhering to the convex surface. Presently all was consumed. I, on seeing this for the first time, sighed with relief, as one who had escaped from witnessing a catastrophe, when the smoker opened his mouth, and allowed the black smoke to escape slowly from between his lacquered teeth, which shone like ebony in the dim light of the tiny lamp. Tho watched the opaque column as it climbed slowly upwards to the bamboo cross-poles of his hut, and, forming into a little cloud, clung to the thatch of the roof. "_Biet!_" (good) he exclaimed, and then prepared for another. The air in the tiny room was now heavy with the odour of the drug, which at first seemed acrid and unpleasant, but it improved on acquaintance, and soon became soothing and enjoyable. The _Doy_ liked to smoke his opium in peace, and, knowing this, I sat waiting until he should see fit to break the silence. Outside, the day was fast drawing to a close, and the short eastern sunset would in a few minutes be changed into night. From the Chinaman's shanty a few paces away came the sound of a rollicking ditty sung by some of my comrades over a pint of wine or a glass of absinthe. The noise seemed to wake all the cicalas in the neighbourhood, for they started at once a concert of chirping whistles. In the half-dried-up pools outside the village thousands of noisy members of the batrachian tribe broke into an endless chorus of complaint at the unwonted dryness of the season, while from time to time their big uncles, the bull-frogs, added a booming croak of approval. The matting hanging before the doorway of the hut swung back a little, moved by a hot breeze which brought to the nostrils a whiff of flowers and vegetation in decay; and I could see the fireflies already circling down the little street or about the thatch-covered _caignas_. The heat was terrific, and seemed, if possible, less supportable now than it had done during the hours of blinding, scorching sunshine. All the earth seemed to radiate the caloric it had been stoking up during the day.