Page:Livingstone in Africa.djvu/71

Shelter'd, it may be, by a roof of boughs.
A grimy cauldron slung athwart the blaze
Held our repast of savoury buffalo-meat:
(Ere sunset had my rifle slain the beast)
But now my dusky troop surround the fire,
That ruddies their swart forms and visages,
Leaping to flame, with crackling faggot piled;
Subsiding soon to embers deeply glowing.
Illumined smoke drifts fragrant, wavering
Among mazes of long involved llianas,
That seem in the red, hesitating light,
To move alive, like pythons watching prey.
There breathes a strange, delicious woodland smell;
Resinous amber glimmers to the stars;
Richly-dim blossoms, many-hued, immense,
Droop fragrant heaven, a milky way of flowers,
Wherein by day the nimble monkey hurries,
And gorgeous parrot screams—now all is hush'd.

Yet there are weird, wild songs about the fire
Peals of a reckless, frolic merriment,
Immoderate jests of nature's shameless child