The trees were good enough for her.

Of course, we had one particular tree in which we usually roosted, though we often roosted in other trees when nightfall caught us.

In a convenient fork was a sort of rude platform of twigs and branches and creeping things.

It was more like a huge bird-nest than anything else, though it was a thousand times cruder in the weaving than any bird-nest.

But it had one feature that I have never seen attached to any bird-nest, namely, a roof.
Oh, not a roof such as modern man makes! Nor a roof such as is made by the lowest aborigines of to-day.