It lay empty, straight, and yellow under the flood of light.
In the hot noontide the smooth trunks of palm trees, the outlines of the houses, and away there at the other end of the road the roof of Almayer's house visible over the bushes on the dark background of forest, seemed to quiver in the heat radiating from the steaming earth.

Swarms of yellow butterflies rose, and settled to rise again in short flights before Reshid's half-closed eyes.

From under his feet arose the dull hum of insects in the long grass of the courtyard.

He looked on sleepily.
From one of the side paths amongst the houses a woman stepped out on the road, a slight girlish figure walking under the shade of a large tray balanced on its head.

The consciousness of something moving stirred Reshid's half-sleeping senses into a comparative wakefulness.