Then for an hour the forest steamed, as the sun licked the drops off the roof and chased the moisture along the boughs.

When the way was dried for them, they went on, going barefooted this time, for the better grip to be obtained.
Other creatures had waited for the drying of the leaves beside themselves, and whenever they passed the white-grey branches of a wild fig tree, they were treated to a scolding from green parrots on the feed, and heard frequently the clapping report of the wood- pigeons as they brought their wings together, and the harsh cry of the toucans.

Oh yes, there was life and there was death.
Venning, going on ahead, saw below him in the fork of a tree the face of a monkey, with the eyes closed as if in sleep.

He stopped to look, stooping his head, and his eyes caught a slight movement.

Then he saw that the sleeping monkey was cradled in the coils of a python resting in the forks of the tree, its head raised a little, and its tail gripping a branch.