ABSTRACT
Towards the middle of September the stock of biscuit and canned food began to run short in camp. The marine creatures preserved in spirits, after a prolonged spell of hot and damp weather, called earnestly for a fresh supply of alcohol. Therefore, Chaulik, Kaneke, his cousin N anchom and I, on a beautiful starlit evening (September 20), determined to run up to the Colony for a few days' change of scene to obtain the sorely-needed supplies, and pay our respects to the Governor. We launched a canoe, and soon found ourselves across close inshore to N antamarui. Cautiously poling over the flats and through the narrow channels in the salt-water brush, we reached Nantiati just as the moon rose over a wild and picturesque scene, lighting up league upon league of hill and valley, and a filagree network of twining creeper, the forest-line trending downwards till lost in the dark and eerie zone of mangroves which rustle around us, dipping their long forked rootsprays into the muddy water like the claws of famished spectres groping for their prey. A wild half-light is stirring amidst a world of flickering shadows.
