And here I must tell you a little Japanese story. The young lady fire-
fly is courted by her many suitors, who themselves carry no light. She
is shy and reserved. She will not accept the attentions; but when so
importuned that she sees no other escape, she cries, "Let him who really
loves me, go bring me a light like my own, as a proof of his affection."
Then the daring lovers rush blindly at the nearest fire or candle, and
perish in the flame.
But to return to the Indian. Not only do his lantern-flies illuminate
his path, but they go on before him, like an advance guard, to clear the
road of its infecting mosquitoes, gnats, and other troublesome insects,
which they seize and devour on the wing.
No harm would the Indian do to his little torchbearer; for, besides the
service he renders, does he not embody a portion of the sun god, the
holy fire? And there are times, when, with reverent awe, these simple
forest children think they see in the cucuie the souls of their departed
friends.
And now if we leave the forest and enter the gay ball-room of some
tropical city, we shall find that the cucuie is a cosmopolitan, at home
alike in palace and in hut, in forest and city. Not only does he, as a
wise little four-year-old friend of mine said, "light the toads to bed,"
but, restrained by invisible folds of gauze, he flutters in the hair of
the fairest ladies, and rivals those earth-stars the diamonds.
But it is hardly fair to show only the bright side, even of a cucuie;
and in justice I must tell that the sugar-planters see with dismay their
little torches among the canes.
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