ABSTRACT
It was in the night-time that I next visited the Nature Man. As I climbed the mountain in the darkness, with the noise of the stream in my ears, I mistook trees for men and cried “Ta ora na” to the empty air. I clambered on all-fours up steep stone stairs, brushed the dew from banana bushes with my cheek and was lost at last pour tout de bon near the top of the mountain, where my sense of direction had betrayed me into what seemed an impassable thicket. I lay down, resigned to a night in the open air, but cried aloud for the Nature Man with faint hope of response.
