Now I had suddenly a nearer view,
and its first result was to make me throw my head back as if before a
blow. Then I went carefully from post to post with my glass, and I saw
my mistake. These round knobs were not ornamental but symbolic; they
were expressive and puzzling, striking and disturbing--food for thought
and also for vultures if there had been any looking down from the sky;
but at all events for such ants as were industrious enough to ascend
the pole. They would have been even more impressive, those heads on the
stakes, if their faces had not been turned to the house. Only one, the
first I had made out, was facing my way. I was not so shocked as you may
think. The start back I had given was really nothing but a movement
of surprise. I had expected to see a knob of wood there, you know. I
returned deliberately to the first I had seen--and there it was, black,
dried, sunken, with closed eyelids--a head that seemed to sleep at the
top of that pole, and, with the shrunken dry lips showing a narrow
white line of the teeth, was smiling, too, smiling continuously at some
endless and jocose dream of that eternal slumber.
"I am not disclosing any trade secrets. In fact, the manager said
afterwards that Mr.
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