It must not be supposed that the change is sudden at the beginning or at the end of this period, for such is not the case. There is no fixed time for anything to cease activity. It is by slow degrees that one thing after another becomes quiescent, until life appears to be for a time almost extinct; but as the sun descends the western sky, life and activity revive, and by three o’clock everything is again astir. Now, a lone gorilla comes stalking through the bush, looking for the red fruit of the _batuna_, a peculiar fruit that grows near the root of the plant. He plucks a bud of some kind, tears it apart with his fingers, smells it, and then throws it aside. Now he takes hold of a tall sapling, looks up at its shaking branches and turns away. He pauses and looks around as if suspicious of danger. He listens to see if anything is approaching, but being reassured he resumes his search for food. Now he gently parts the tangled vines that intercept his way and creeps noiselessly through them. He hesitates, looks carefully around him, and then again proceeds. He is coming this way. I see his black face as he turns his head from side to side, looking for food. What a brutal visage! It has a scowl upon it, as if he were at odds with all his race. He is now within a few yards of the cage, but is not aware of my presence. He plucks a tendril from a vine, smells it, and puts it into his mouth. He plucks another and another. I shall note that vine and ascertain what it is. Now he is in a small open space where the bush has been cut away so as to afford a better view. He seems to know that this is an unusual thing to find in the jungle. He surveys it with caution. He comes nearer. Now he has detected me. He sits down upon the ground and looks at me as if in utter surprise. A moment more he turns aside, looks over his shoulders, and hurries away into the dense jungle. It is now four o’clock. I hear a wild pig rooting among the fallen leaves. I see a small rodent that looks like a diminutive hedgehog. He is gnawing the bark from a dead limb, possibly to capture some insect secreted under it. But as rodents usually live upon vegetable diet, he may have some other reason for this. It is five o’clock and the shadows in the forest are beginning to deepen. I see two little gray monkeys playing in the top of a very tall tree. The birds become monotonous and tiresome. Yonder is a small snake twined around the limb of a bushy tree. He is probably hunting for a nest of young birds. The low muttering sound of distant thunder is heard. Little by little it grows louder. It is the familiar voice of the coming tornado. I must prepare for it.