There was wine also, and
afterwards a cigar of such quality as appealed strongly to Durnovo's
West Indian palate.
The night settled down over the land while they sat there, and
before them the great yellow equatorial moon rose slowly over the
trees. With the darkness came a greater silence, for the myriad
insect life was still. This great silence of Central Africa is
wonderfully characteristic. The country is made for silence, the
natives are created to steal, spirit-ridden, devil-haunted, through
vast tracks of lifeless forest, where nature is oppressive in her
grandeur. Here man is put into his right place--a puny,
insignificant, helpless being in a world that is too large for him.
"So," said Durnovo, returning to the subject which had never really
left his thoughts, "you have come out here for pleasure?"
"Not exactly. I came chiefly to make money, partly to dispel some
of the illusions of my youth, and I am getting on very well.
Picture-book illusions they were. The man who drew the pictures had
never seen Africa."
"This is no country for illusions. Things go naked here--damned
naked."
"And only language is adorned?"
Durnovo laughed. He had to be alert to keep up with Jack Meredith--
to understand his speech; and he rather liked the necessity, which
was a change after the tropic indolence in which he had moved.
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