Published in Short Story 1899 The sun was only just gilding the crowns of the tallest palms of the jungle where the monkeys were climbing among the topmost twigs to warm their ears in its rays and search for breakfast. One or two jungle-cocks, up in the rocky nullah, were still to be heard crowing good morning to each other, and the bubbling notes of wild bulbuls were answered from many a cage in the little native village, while fields of young rice and sugar-cane half a mile lower down the valley would soon glow like a sheet of emerald. "Why could not we make such a trap?" asked Rangani.