Again, the path wound past high precipices and deep ravines until we came to our first resting-place, Bamboo Camp, so called from a clump of bamboo that formed a natural shelter. Here the forest trees were so high and thick that scarcely any sun or light could penetrate. It was gloomy in the extreme, and very depressing, the silence broken only by the drip, drip of the rain, and the only sound of life was the “wauk,” “wauk” of the bird of paradise. For two hours the track skirted the Deeanay precipice, and our way led under enormous overhanging boulders which would reach out some distance overhead. These were the more impressive in that they seemed to have no hold, and the imagination made teasing suggestions as to what would happen if one of them were to topple over. From the crevices little springs issued, and in these damp nooks there was a luxuriant growth of lichens and begonias in flower. While accomplishing the long circumvention of the crags, it was impossible to obtain a view of the Deeanay, but as we broke out into more open forest, close to Madui, one could form some idea of its rocky magnificence. [Illustration: THE CAMP AT EKEIKEI. ] Close to the Deeanay precipice we noted an extraordinary sight. Under a large tree that rose to a height of some 150 feet, were huge mounds, quite five feet high, of veritable sawdust, that seemed to proclaim the presence of man. On a nearer approach the wonder became greater, for the heaps were being continually augmented by a constant rain of sawdust of different grains, some finer than others. No human sawyer, of course, was there, but the tree, to a height of at least 100 feet, was riddled by coleopterous larvæ. Several families of these were represented. The tree, which was about five feet in diameter, and had a thin bark, was, as might be expected, dying. It must have possessed some strange attraction, for it was most unusual in New Guinea to find beetles thus congregated. The distribution is usually very scattered. The holes were probably made at first by small beetles of various families, but chiefly anobiadæ, followed as a rule by brenthidæ, later probably by longicorniæ. One species follows the other into the same hole, each succeeding species bigger than its predecessor. Sometimes the lepidoptera make borings, but this sawdust was much finer. Only a few living branches remained on the tree, which was a mere shell. It was, however, so well protected from winds that it still stood. Close by we saw a native hut, uninhabited, of very rude construction. This point of our journeyings is otherwise memorable, for it was here, near a creek, that we found some of our finest butterflies—lycenidæ, papiliosidæ, satyridæ, and ornithoptera primus.