They were looking on the ground, absorbed in thought. The manager was
switching his leg with a slender twig: his sagacious relative lifted his
head. 'You have been well since you came out this time?' he asked. The
other gave a start. 'Who? I? Oh! Like a charm--like a charm. But the
rest--oh, my goodness! All sick. They die so quick, too, that I haven't
the time to send them out of the country--it's incredible!' 'Hm'm.
Just so,' grunted the uncle. 'Ah! my boy, trust to this--I say, trust to
this.' I saw him extend his short flipper of an arm for a gesture that
took in the forest, the creek, the mud, the river--seemed to beckon
with a dishonouring flourish before the sunlit face of the land a
treacherous appeal to the lurking death, to the hidden evil, to the
profound darkness of its heart. It was so startling that I leaped to my
feet and looked back at the edge of the forest, as though I had expected
an answer of some sort to that black display of confidence. You know
the foolish notions that come to one sometimes. The high stillness
confronted these two figures with its ominous patience, waiting for the
passing away of a fantastic invasion.
"They swore aloud together--out of sheer fright, I believe--then
pretending not to know anything of my existence, turned back to the
station.
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