My Tropic Isle | Page 4

stood
on a slope, and with the little crosscut we attacked its base, cutting a
little more than half-way through. When a complementary cut had been
made on the other side, the tree, with a creak or two and a sign which
ended in "swoush," fell, and as it did so I stepped forward, remarking to
the taciturn black boy, "Clear cut, Paddy!" The words were on my lips
when a "waddy," torn from the vindictive tree and flung, high and
straight into the inoffensive sky, descended flat on the red stump with a
gunlike report. The swish of the waddy down-tilted the frayed brim of
my cherished hat!
The primary bullet is not yet done with, for when the tree which had
reluctantly housed it for a year was submitted to the fires of destruction
among the charcoal a blob of bright lead confirmed my scarcely
credited story that the year before the datum for our castle, then aerial
and now substantial, had been established in ponderous metal.
What justification existed for the defacement of the virginal scene by
an unlovely dwelling--the, imposition of a scar on the unspotted
landscape? None, save that the arrogant intruder needed shelter, and
that he was neither a Diogenes to be content in a tub nor a Thoreau to
find in boards an endurable temporary substitute for blankets.
It was resolved that the shelter should by way of compensation be
unobtrusive, hidden in a wilderness of leaves. The sacrifice of those
trees unhaply in prior occupation of the site selected would be atoned
for by the creation of a modest garden of pleasant-hued shrubs and
fruit-trees and lines and groves of coconut-palms. My conscience at
least has been, or rather is being, appeased for the primary violation of
the scene, for trees perhaps, more beautiful, certainly more useful,
stand for those destroyed. The Isle suffers no gross disfigurement.
Except for a wayward garden and the most wilful plantation of tropical
fruit-trees, no change has been wrought for which the genius of the Isle
need demand satisfaction.
Though of scented cedar the hut was ceilingless. Resonant corrugated

iron and boards an inch thick intervened between us and the noisy
tramplings of the rain and heat of the sun. The only room
accommodated some primitive furniture, a bed being the denominating
as well as the essential feature. A little shambling structure of rough
slabs and iron walls contrived a double debt to pay--kitchen and
dining-room.
From the doorsteps of the hut we landed on mother earth, for the
verandas were not floored. Everything was as homely and simple and
inexpensive as thought and thrift might contrive. Our desire to live in
the open air became almost compulsory, for though you fly from
civilisation and its thralls you cannot escape the social instincts of life.
The hut became the focus of life other than human. The scant hut-roof
sheltered more than ourselves.
On the narrow table, under cover of stray articles and papers, grey
bead-eyed geckoes craftily stalked moths and beetles and other fanatic
worshippers of flame as they hastened to sacrifice themselves to the
lamp. In the walls wasps built terra-cotta warehouses in which to store
the semi-animate carcasses of spiders and grubs; a solitary bee
constructed nondescript comb among the books, transforming a
favourite copy of "Lorna Doone" into a solid block. Bats, sharp-toothed,
and with pin-point eyes, swooped in at one door, quartered the roof
with brisk eagerness, and departed by the other.
Finding ample food and safe housing, bats soon became permanent
lodgers. For a time it was novel and not unpleasant to be conscious in
the night of their waftings, for they were actual checks upon the
mosquitoes which came to gorge themselves on our unsalted blood. But
they increased so rapidly that their presence became intolerable. The
daring pioneer which had happened during its nocturnal expeditions to
discover the very paradise for the species proclaimed the glad tidings,
and relatives, companions, and friends flocked hither, placing
themselves under our protection with contented cheepings. Though the
room became mosquitoless, serious objections to the scavengers
developed. Before a writ of ejection could be enforced, however, a
sensational cause for summary proceedings arose.

In the dimness of early morning when errant bats flitted home to cling
to the ridge-pole, squeaking and fussy flutterings denoted unwonted
disturbance. Daylight revealed a half concealed, sleeping snake, which
seemed to be afflicted with twin tumours. A long stick dislodged the
intruder, which scarce had reached the floor ere it died violent death.
Even the snake spectre did no seriously affright the remaining bats,
though it confirmed the sentence of their immediate banishment. In the
eye of the bats the sanctuary of the roof with an odd snake or two was
preferable to inclement hollow branches open to the raids