7200 land snails, 60 snakes, 600 frogs, 18000 insects; and uncounted fruit bats, iguanas, possums, lizards, rats, mice, and fresh water eels. I am actually writing this on the first of March. I am sitting on the porch of "Arawa", the residence of Mr. Esson's plantation. In the heat of the noonday sun the rain clouds are gathering, and drooping list- lessly over the peaks of the distant mountains. There is an epochal hush in the wide bosom of Arawa valley through which I can hear a cockatoo conversing with a crow, and hear the thrumming and the droning of a thousand insects. I can think of no other way of ending this but to repeat, as I sit here scratching this abominable paper with cigarette smoke torturing my left eye, that I can hear a cockatoo conversing with a crow, and hear the thrumming and the droning of a thousand insects.