As this was a region full of birds, beasts, and insects of many kinds, it was resolved, for the professor’s benefit, that a few days should be spent in it.  Accordingly, the village chief set apart a newly-built house for the visitors’ accommodation, and a youth named Grogo was appointed to wait on them and act as guide when they wished to traverse any part of the surrounding forest.

The house was on the outskirts of the village, a matter of satisfaction to the professor, as it enabled him at once to plunge into his beloved work unobserved by the youngsters.  It also afforded him a better opportunity of collecting moths, etc., by the simple method of opening his window at night.  A mat or wicker-work screen divided the hut into two apartments, one of which was entirely given over to the naturalist and his materiel.

“I vil begin at vonce,” said the eager man, on taking possession.

And he kept his word by placing his lamp on a table in a conspicuous position, so that it could be well seen from the outside.  Then he threw his window wide open, as a general invitation to the insect world to enter!

Moths, flying beetles, and other creatures were not slow to accept the invitation.  They entered by twos, fours, sixes—­at last by scores, insomuch that the room became uninhabitable except by the man himself, and his comrades soon retired to their own compartment, leaving him to carry on his work alone.

“You enjoy this sort of thing?” said Nigel, as he was about to retire.

“Enchoy it? yes—­it is ’paradise regained’!” He pinned a giant moth at the moment and gazed triumphant through his blue glasses.

“‘Paradise lost’ to the moth, anyhow,” said Nigel with a nod, as he bade him good-night, and carefully closed the wicker door to check the incursions of uncaptured specimens.  Being rather tired with the day’s journey, he lay down on a mat beside the hermit, who was already sound asleep.

But our hero found that sleep was not easily attainable so close to an inexhaustible enthusiast, whose every step produced a rattling of the bamboo floor, and whose unwearied energy enabled him to hunt during the greater part of the night.

At length slumber descended on Nigel’s spirit, and he lay for some time in peaceful oblivion, when a rattling crash awoke him.  Sitting up he listened, and came to the conclusion that the professor had upset some piece of furniture, for he could hear him distinctly moving about in a stealthy manner, as if on tip-toe, giving vent to a grumble of dissatisfaction every now and then.

“What can he be up to now, I wonder?” murmured the disturbed youth, sleepily.

The hermit, who slept through all noises with infantine simplicity, made no answer, but a peculiar snort from the negro, who lay not far off on his other side, told that he was struggling with a laugh.

“Hallo, Moses! are you awake?” asked Nigel, in a low voice.