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I put some fresh logs on the fire, for the nights were now becoming very cold. The two blacks were lying sprawling by its side on the earthen floor of the hut; while Harris lay just above them on the bed next the chimney. The blaze from the burning wood and the light from the lamp fell strongly on the three sleepers, fully revealing their faces and figures, and I could not help being struck by the different aspect of the physiognomies before me, illustrations as they were of the highest and almost the lowest types of the animal man. For some time my mind wandered in a maze of theories as to the origin of types—effects of climate, food, and other modifying agencies in influencing the development of the genus homo, until all at once I became conscious that my ethnological speculations were rapidly coveying me into the land of dreams; so, jumping up to shake off the drowsiness creeping over me (for I had been shooting all day in the reed-beds), I slung the kettle, to make myself a pot of tea, and then went outside to look at the night.