No one with any taste for nature will fail to feel the solemnity of the moment when he stands face to face for the first time with primitive man. As the traveller enters the depths of the virgin forest for the first time with sacred awe, he feels that he stands before a still higher revelation of nature when the first dark, naked man suddenly appears. Silently he has crept through the thicket, has parted the branches, and confronts us unexpectedly on a narrow path, shy and silent, while we are struck with surprise. His figure is but slightly relieved against the green of the bushes; he seems part of the silent, luxuriant world around him, a being strange to us, a part of those realms which we are used to imagine as void of feeling and incapable of thought. But a word breaks the spell, intelligence gleams in his face, and what, so far, has seemed a strange being, belonging rather to the lower animals than to human-kind, shows himself a man, and becomes equal to ourselves. Thus the endless, inhospitable jungle, without open spaces or streets, without prairies and sun, that dense tangle of lianas and tree-trunks, shelters men like ourselves. It seems marvellous to think that in those depths, dull, dark and silent as the fathomless ocean, men can live, and we can hardly blame former generations for denying all kinship with these savages and counting them as animals; especially as the native never seems more primitive than when he is roaming the forest, naked but for a bark belt, with a big curly wig and waving plumes, bow and arrow his only weapons. When alarmed, he hides in the foliage, and once swallowed up in the green depths which are his home and his protection, neither eye nor ear can find any trace of him. But our ideas change when we enter his village home, with its dancing-grounds with the big drums, the sacred stone tables, idols and carved tree-trunks, all in a frame of violently coloured bushes--red, purple, brown and orange. Above us, across a blue sky, a tree with scarlet flowers blows in the breeze, and long stamens fall slowly down and cover the ground with a brilliant carpet. Dogs bark, roosters crow and from a hut a man creeps out--others emerge from the bush and from half-hidden houses which at first we had not noticed. At some distance stand the women and children in timid amazement, and then begins a chattering, or maybe a whispered consultation about the arrival of the stranger. We are in the midst of human life, in a busy little town, where the sun pours through the gaps in the dark forest, and flowers give colour and brightness, and where, after all, life is not so very much less human than in civilization.