Once up on the branch, however, I felt better. Moving along to a bend, where a lot of creepers were thickly interlaced, I found a sort of natural seat, not quite directly above the terrible “kill,” below in the trodden and red-painted grass. In this seat I could rest my weight, my position then being one of half erectness, my feet on the great branch, my body leaning against the supporting vines. Drawing up my weapons, I so disposed four of the arrows that I could easily and safely find them in the dark—which I tried by closing my eyes. Then I fitted the fifth one to the bow-string and prepared myself for a lengthy wait. CHAPTER XIII THE NIGHT IN THE JUNGLE It seemed as if I had been in the tree for an age when the sun finally sank behind the hill. For long the twilight had been dim in the jungle, and creepers and shadows made a picture of grotesque forms, wrapped about and hung as if with serpents, like a weird conception by Doré. There was rarely a sound. It seemed like the hour when the day-creatures crept stealthily home to caves and covers, afraid they were already too late and sure to be overtaken by the prowlers of the darkness. Once I had a fearful up-welling of excitement suddenly flood my being and make my heart to thump heavily. An armadillo came trotting quietly into the open space below me. The movement was what caught my glance, and for the second I thought only of the tiger. Then the little animal sniffed that gory object and darted instantly away. The darkness increased. Some early complainer howled out a dismal note. Now and then there came a rustling sound from the trees or vines. An hour after the darkness became complete, I heard a pounce, a struggle, the quiet moan-cry of something which gave up its life, and it made a chill go down my back and spread through my nerves. Sounds of birds in the air and forest—inhabitants hiding in the trees, came occasionally, now, with surprising distinctness. All of this kept me in a high state of tension. I wished myself anywhere on earth other than where I was. I confess the woods at night, where merely bears and owls were at large, had awed me earlier in life, and this jungle, alive with poisonous reptiles and blood-hungry animals, terrified me beyond expression. If I had only had a companion, if there had even been another man awaiting my return—somebody to talk to, somebody to think about rejoining, or even a soul who would dare to hunt for my body if I never returned,—it would have been a little comforting at least.