"Fire Island" (continued 5)

“Worse and worse,” said Panton, trying hard to preserve his calmness, and to master the horror always to the front in his thoughts, by speaking lightly. “That’s what I believe they have done to me, but they’ve failed to get me as a specimen.”

“Haw, haw, haw!” laughed Smith.

“Quiet, sir!” cried Oliver. “What have you got to laugh at?”

“Beg pardon,” said the man, passing his hand across his mouth, as if the laugh required wiping away, “but it seemed so comic for the natives to be trying to get a spessermen of an English gent, to keep stuffed as a cur’osity.”

“Ah, they wouldn’t have done that, Smith, my lad. More likely to have rolled me up in leaves to bake in one of their stone ovens, and then have a feast.”

“Well, they aren’t got yer, sir, and they sha’n’t have yer, if me and Billy Wriggs can stop it.”

“God bless you both, my lads,” said Panton huskily. “You stood by me very bravely.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” said Smith bashfully. “People as is out together, whether they’re gents or only common sailors, is mates yer know for the time, and has to stand by one another in a scrimmage. Did one’s dooty like, and I dessay I could do it again, better than what I’m a doing here. My poor old mother never thought I should come to be a ’orspittle nuss. Like a drink a’ water, sir?”

“Yes, please, my mouth’s terribly dry.”

Smith looked round, but there was no water in the cabin, and he went out to get some from the breaker on deck, but he had not reached halfway to the tub, before there was a sharp recommencement of the firing, and he knew by the yelling that the savages were making a fresh attack.

The sailor forgot all about the wounded in the cabin, and running right forward, he seized a capstan bar for a weapon, and then went to the side waiting to help and repel the attack, if any of the enemy managed to reach the deck.

But evidently somewhat daunted by the firearms and the injuries inflicted upon several of their party, the savages did not come too near, but stood drawing their bows from time to time, and sending their arrows up in the air, so that they might fall nearly perpendicularly upon the deck. Many times over the men had hairbreadth escapes from arrows which fell with a sharp whistling sound, and stuck quivering in the boards, while the mate made the crew hold their fire.

“Firing at them is no good,” he said, “or they would have stopped away after the first volleys. Let them shoot instead and waste their arrows. They’ll soon get tired of that game. So long as they don’t hurt us, it’s of no consequence. All we want, is for them to leave us alone.”

“But it does not seem as if they would do that,” said Drew, to whom he was speaking.

“Well, then, if they will not, we must give them another lesson, and another if it comes to that. We’re all right now in our bit of a fort, but it seems queer to be in command of a ship that will not— Hah! Look at that!” he cried, stooping to pull from the deck an arrow which had just fallen with a whizz. “You may as well keep some of these and take ’em home for curiosities, sir. There’s no trickery or deceit about them. They were not made for trade purposes, but for fighting.”

“And are they poisoned?” said Drew anxiously.

“Best policy is to say no they are not, sir. We don’t want to frighten Mr Panton into the belief that he has been wounded by one, for if he does, he’ll get worse and worse and die of the fancy; whereas, after the spirits are kept up, even if the arrow points have been dipped into something nasty, he may fight the trouble down and get well again. I say, take it that they are not poisoned and let’s keep to that, for many a man has before now died from imagination. Why, bless me! if the men got to think that the savages’ weapons were poisonous, every fellow who got a scratch would take to his bunk, and we should have no end of trouble.”

“I suppose so,” said Drew. “But tell me, what do you think of my companions’ wounds?”

“Well, speaking as a man who has been at sea twenty years, and has helped to do a good deal of doctoring with sticking plaster and medicine chest—for men often get hurt and make themselves ill—I should say as they’ve both got nasty troublesome wounds which will pain them a bit for weeks to come, but that there’s nothing in them to fidget about. Young hearty out-door-living fellows like yourselves have good flesh, and if it’s wounded it soon heals up again.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Of course, sir: when you’re young you soon come right. It’s when you are getting old, and fidget and worry about your health, that you get better slowly. Hah! there’s another stuck up in the mainsail. That won’t hurt anybody.”

“But tell me, Mr Rimmer, when did the savages come and attack you?”

“I was going to ask you to tell me why you were all so long. I was just thinking of coming in search of you, expecting to find that you’d gone down some hole or broken your necks, when one of the men came running up from where he had been fishing in that nearest pool—for the crocs and things have left a few fish swimming about still. Up he comes to the gangway shouting,—‘Mr Rimmer, Mr Rimmer, here they are,’ he says. ‘Good job too,’ says I. ‘Are they all here?’ ‘Quick, quick,’ he says. ‘Get out the guns,’ and looking half wild with fear, he began to shut up the gangway and to yell for some one to help him pull up the ladder. I thought he was mad, and I caught hold of him as the men came running up. ‘Here, young fellow,’ I says, ‘what’s the matter with you; have you got sunstroke?’ ‘No, sir,’ he says, ‘but one of their poisoned arrows whizzed by my ear. Don’t you understand? I was fishing and I’d just hooked a big one when a croc seized it, and nearly dragged me into the water. Then, all at once, I looked up and let go of the line, for there was a whole gang of nearly naked black fellows, with their heads all fuzzed out, and spears and bows and arrows in their hands. They were a long way off on the other side of the pool, but they saw me, and began to run as fast as ever they could, and so did I.’”

“Enough to make him,” said Drew.

“Yes, and it didn’t want any telling, for the perspiration was streaming down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead, and you could see his heart pumping away and rising and falling. Next minute we could see the rascals stealing up looking at the brig as if they expected to see it come sailing down upon them; but as soon as they made sure it was not going to move, they came shouting and dancing round us, and in the boldest way tried to climb on board.”

“Well?” said Drew, for the mate stopped.

“Well? I call it ill, sir.”

“But what did you do then?”

“Oh! the game began then, of course. I told the men to tell them that nobody came on board except by invitation; but they didn’t like it and insisted upon coming.”

“But could they understand English?”

“No, not a word.”

“Then how could you tell them?”

“Oh! that was easy enough,” said the mate with a droll look. “I made the men tell them with capstan bars, and as soon as a black head appeared above the bulwarks it went down again. I didn’t want to fire upon the poor ignorant wretches, who seemed to have an idea that the brig was their prize, and that everyone was to give way to them, for they came swarming up, over fifty of them, throwing and darting their spears at us, and shooting arrows, so I was obliged to give them a lesson.”

“Have you killed any?” said Drew.

“Not yet. I found that hitting their thick heads was no good, so I served out some swan shot cartridges, and sent a lot of them back rather sore.”

“It checked them, then?”

“Yes, for a time, while we ran up that canvas and cleared away everything that made it easy for them to swarm up over the bulwarks. But they’re so active that one’s never safe.”

“Hark! what’s that?” cried Drew. “Someone called ‘help!’”

“It came from the cabin. Come along.”

“Who’s there?” said Drew.

“I left Smith with them, but he’s here,” panted the mate, as he passed the sailor, who was hurrying back horrified by the cry he had heard.

They were just in time to see the cabin window blocked up by black heads, whose owners were trying to force their way in, while a couple of fierce-looking wretches had their clubs raised as if about to dash out the brains of the two injured passengers.

There was no time to take aim. The mate and Drew both drew trigger as they entered the cabin, when there was a savage yelling, the place filled with smoke. Then as it rose, Oliver Lane and Panton could be seen lying half fainting upon the cabin floor, and the open cabin window was vacant.

“The brutes!” cried Drew, running to the window to lean out and fire the second barrel of his piece at a group of the Papuans.

“Mind!” roared the mate, as Drew passed him, but his warning was not heeded in the excitement. The need, though, was evident, for the young man shrank away startled and horrified as half a dozen arrows came with a whizz and stuck here and there in the woodwork, and two in the ceiling, while a spear struck off his cap, and then fell and stuck with a loud thud in the cabin floor, not a couple of inches from one of Oliver Lane’s legs.

“Hurt?” cried the mate, excitedly.

“Yes—no—I can’t tell,” said Drew, whose hands trembled as he reloaded his gun.

“But you must know,” cried the mate, seizing his arm and gazing at him searchingly.

“No: I don’t know,” said Drew. “Something touched me, but I don’t feel anything now. I am certain, though: I am not wounded.”

“For heaven’s sake be careful, man!” cried the mate. “We have shelter here and must make use of it. We are regularly besieged, and how long it will last it is impossible to say.”

As he spoke he dragged the little narrow mattress out of a bunk, and, signing to Drew to take hold of one end, they raised it and placed it across the window to act as a screen, while Mr Rimmer thrust out one arm, got hold of a rope, and drew up the dead-light which was struck several times before he got it perfectly secure.

“Oh, you’re there, Smith,” he said, turning to the sailor, who, now feeling very penitent, was down on one knee holding a panikin of water to Oliver Lane’s lips. “How came you to leave the cabin, and with that window open?”

“I didn’t, sir. Window was shut fast enough when I left it, and I only went for some water for the gentlemen to drink.”

“And nearly sent them to their graves?” cried the mate.

“Will you come on deck, sir, please?” cried one of the men, who had come to the cabin door with his face looking drawn and scared.

“Yes. What is it?” said the mate.

“There’s a lot more on ’em just come up, sir, and we think they’re going to rush us now.”

“Yes. Come on, Mr Drew. You, too, Smith. Quick, they’re attacking.”

For there was a terrific yelling, and the sound indicated that it must come from quite a crowd.

They rushed on deck and none too soon, for, at the first glance Drew obtained, he could see that the savages had surrounded the brig, and that many of them bore small palm trunk poles whose purpose was evident the next moment, for a dozen men rushed forward and laid them from the earth to the bulwarks, sinking down directly to clasp the little trees with their arms while as many of their companions leaped up, took as high a hold as they could, and then began to swarm up toward the deck.

“It’s all over now,” muttered Drew, and he took aim at a man who seemed to be the leader.

Chapter Thirty.

An Invalid Defence.

The shouting and yelling was so plainly heard in the cabin, that Oliver tried to raise himself up, but sank back with a sigh of pain, for the rough usage he had met with from the Papuans had made him lie back half fainting and speechless. But he was conscious of the words shouted by the seaman to the mate, and of the latter’s orders as he ran out of the cabin.

Oliver groaned as he lay back upon his couch, listening to the sounds of the impending strife.

“It is too hard to be left alone and helpless here,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t care if I were strong enough to go and help.”

“You there, Lane?” came in feeble tones from the other side of the cabin.

“Yes. How are you?”

“Bad. But what’s that noise? That shouting?”

“Papuans attacking the ship.”

“Oh, yes,” said Panton faintly. “I remember now. They followed us and shot me down. Ah! I should have liked to have one turn at the fellow who drew a bow at me. Hark! they’re fighting.”

“Fighting! Yes; and oh! it is dreadful to have to lie here and not be able to help.”

“Yes, I should like to help our fellows,” sighed Panton, “Drew is there, I suppose?”

“Yes, of course. Hark! they’ve begun firing.”

They lay listening for some minutes, and then Panton suddenly exclaimed,—

“I’m weak and faint as can be, but I can’t lie like this. Look here, Lane, old chap; if those blacks get the best of it, they’ll come down here and murder us.”

“Without mercy,” said Oliver, with a groan.

“Well, wounded men have helped the fighting before now. Don’t you think you and I could do our little bit now?”

“I don’t feel as if I could raise an arm,” said Oliver, “but I’ll have a try.”

“So will I. It’s of no use to lie here fancying one has been wounded by poisoned arrows. I shall think of nothing but paying those fellows out. The guns are there on that locker.”

“And the cartridge bags with them,” said Oliver.

“Then here goes.”

“Hist!”

“What is it?” whispered back Panton.

“Some one is trying that window.”

There was no mistake about the matter, for the grating as of a great piece of wood was heard, followed by a cracking sound like the point of a spear being inserted in a crevice so as to wrench open the dead-light.

The young men looked at each other, and Panton reached out his sound arm, setting his teeth hard as he tried to master the agony he felt in his effort, and succeeded in grasping one gun.

The rest was easy: by its help he drew the other within reach—their own guns which had been thrown down there when they were brought into the cabin. In another minute he had the cartridge satchels as well, and pushed one and his gun to Oliver. They both examined the breeches to see that they were properly loaded, listening the while to the crackling, wrenching noise.

Meanwhile the sounds from without increased. There was plenty of firing going on from the deck, answered by savage yelling and the dull sounds of blows, as arrow and spear kept on striking the woodwork and flying over the protected bulwarks to the deck.

“Haven’t got a foot on board yet,” whispered Panton, faintly.

“No; it sounds as if they were climbing up, and our fellows kept knocking them backward. Oh, if I were only strong enough to go up and see.”

“I’d give anything to be there,” said Panton, with his eyes brightening.

“I say,” said Oliver, hoarsely; “does it come natural to fellows to want to kill as soon as they get hurt and fighting’s going on?”

“I suppose so. It seems to take all the fear out of you, and you don’t care for anything. I say—look out!”

For at that moment there was a sharp splitting sound at the cabin window, the dead-light fell over with a sharp crack, and as a couple of savage grinning faces appeared, Oliver held out his gun with one hand as if it had been a pistol, and without attempting to raise his head from the rough pillow on which it lay, drew trigger.

The effect was instantaneous. One moment the two Papuans were there, the next they were gone, and a heavy thick smoke rose towards the ceiling.

“Hit them?” said Panton, excitedly.

“Must have hit them, or they wouldn’t have dropped. But some of the pellets were sure to go home, for it was loaded with small shot.”

“You were too quick for me,” said Panton, huskily, as Oliver reloaded, opening the breech as the gun lay across him, only one hand being at liberty for the task.

“Think they’ll come again?” said Oliver, through his teeth, for the recoil of the gun had horribly jarred his injured arm, and there were moments when he felt as if his senses were leaving him in a swoon.

“Yes, they’ll come again, and I must have a shot this time. Am I loaded with small shot too? I forget. My head is so horribly muddled.”

“Yes, I think so. Look out. I’m not ready.”

Panton was looking out, and he, too, saw the top of a mop-headed savage’s fuzz begin to appear softly over the edge of the window, then dart up quickly and bob down again, after its owner had made a quick observation.

“Don’t fire; he’ll come back.”

Lane was quite right, for a hand holding a spear was raised now, the weapon poised ready to be hurled into the cabin. Then the head of the holder appeared and bobbed down once more.

“Too quick, don’t fire,” said Oliver, hoarsely. “Wait, and we’ll fire together.”

“No, no,” said Panton, faintly. “I must have this one.”

Up came the bead again sharply, the spear was poised, and, holding on by the sill with one hand, the savage drew back to give force to his throw, which was intended for Panton, who lay there as if in a nightmare, completely paralysed, feeling that he ought to fire to save his friend, but unable to hold his gun steady for a moment, and to draw trigger.

At last. Bang! A terrible yell; the spear dropped on the sill, the point was then jerked upwards, and struck the top of the window as the savage fell headlong, leaving the opening clear once more.

“Did—I hit him?” said Panton, faintly.

“Yes, he went down at once. Quick, load again. Another will be up directly.”

He was quite right, but Panton did not stir; he lay back senseless, the recoil of the fired piece having sent so agonising a pang through him too that he turned sick and fainted dead away; and this just as a couple more spear-armed savages dragged themselves up and began to climb through. In fact, one was dimly seen half in before Oliver could shake off his feeling of lethargy and steady the gun for another shot.

The report sounded deafening in the confined cabin, filling it far more with smoke, which Oliver lay trying hard to penetrate as he wondered at the silence which had now fallen.

The window was open and no enemy was to be seen as the smoke slowly rose and floated out through the door, carried by the current of air which set in through the window, and as there was no fresh alarm the young naturalist lay listening, till all at once steps were heard, and the mate’s voice saluted him,—

“Well, how’s the wound? Hear all our noise and firing?”

“Yes,” said Oliver, slowly, “I heard.”

“But, hallo! what’s the meaning of this? I thought that dead-light was put up? and what! Guns?”

Oliver told him what had happened, and the mate caught his hand.

“And we were so much taken up by our own firing that we did not hear a sound of yours?”

“Have you beaten them off?” asked Oliver.

“Yes, they’ve drawn back for the time,” replied the mate. “Then if you two had not helped in the defence of the brig, they would have got in?”

“I suppose so,” said Oliver; “but, pray see to Mr Panton.”

The request was necessary, and it was some time before he recovered sufficiently to answer when spoken to, then falling into a sleep that was broken by feverish dreams.

Chapter Thirty One.

The Scouting Party.

Mr Rimmer felt great unwillingness for anyone to leave the brig, but at the end of forty-eight hours, during which no sign whatever had been seen of the enemy, he felt that some investigations must be made to see whether they had left the island or were lurking somewhere near, in one of the patches of forest, waiting for an opportunity to take the occupants of the brig at a disadvantage.

“And we know what the consequences would be, gentlemen, if they did.”

These words were spoken in the cabin where, in spite of their injuries, both Oliver and Panton eagerly took part in the little discussion.

Ever since the attack had ceased careful watch had been kept after the windows had been made thoroughly secure and no one had left the deck of the brig. But such a condition of affairs was proving terribly irksome, besides cutting off the opportunities for obtaining fresh fish and meat.

The idea which found most favour was that the enemy had gone back to their canoes and paddled away, but this had to be put to the test, and various were the plans proposed, but none seemed to possess qualities which commended themselves to the mate.

“No, gentlemen,” he said, “I think my last idea will be the best; I’ll start before daylight to-morrow morning and steer for the sea, so as to make out whether they have a canoe on the shore. If there is not one, they must have gone.”

“And what is to become of us and the brig if you are unable to get back?” asked Oliver rather indignantly.

“Well,” said Mr Rimmer with his eyes twinkling, “that would be rather awkward for both of us, squire, but we won’t look at the worst side of the case, but at the best. I’ll come back if I can.”

“But I agree with Mr Lane,” said Panton. “I don’t want to be selfish, but there are two things against you, Mr Rimmer, you would be deserting your ship and crew as captain, and your patients as doctor. No, sir, you must not go.”

“Two things against me, eh?” said the mate. “And what do you say, Mr Drew?”

“The same as my friends, sir. It is quite impossible for you to go.”

“Three against me, eh? What are we to do, then; stay in this wretched state of uncertainty, unable to stir a yard from the brig?”

“No,” said Drew. “I shall go. I’ll take Smith and Wriggs. I’m used to those two men, and they’re used to me. I’ll start before daylight.”

“That’s good,” cried his friends.

“Yes,” said Mr Rimmer, “that’s good, and I’ll agree that it is the best thing that can be done. But you’ll have to be very careful, sir, and at the least sign of danger begin to retreat. Look here, take this old boatswain’s whistle, and if you are pressed in any way, blow it as soon as you are near the brig, and we’ll turn out and come to your help.”

“Thank you, Mr Rimmer,” said Drew, cheerfully, “but I hope I shall not have to use it.”

A good breakfast was ready a couple of hours before daylight, and Mr Rimmer himself called Drew up, doing everything he could to further his object, even to taking four men well armed and making a long circuit of the brig, while Drew and his two companions were partaking of a hearty meal to fit them for their task.

“Can’t see any enemy, sir,” Mr Rimmer said as he came back and found Drew waiting impatiently. “That’s right, sir, make straight for the shore, and I’d go first and see whether the boat’s safe before hunting to the south for the niggers’ canoe. I’d keep in the cocoa-nut grove all the way. It will shelter you all, and you’ll be able to see well enough whether there’s anyone in the lagoon, for that’s where their canoes are sure to be.”

“Then you think there’s more than one?” said Oliver.

“Oh, yes, sir, I should say there are two at least. Those big outriggers that hold forty or fifty men each. There, Mr Drew, off with you, please, and don’t get to fighting except as a last resource—so as to escape. I won’t come with you part of the way, it’s better that you should be off alone. You two lads,” he continued as they reached the deck, and turned to Smith and Wriggs who were standing in the darkness very proud of the rifles with which they had been armed, “I look to you to bring Mr Drew back safely.”

“Ay, ay, sir, we mean that,” said Smith. “Eh, Billy?”

“Ah,” came in a deep growl. “That’s so.”

Mr Rimmer walked to the gangway and took a long steady observation, as far as the darkness would allow. Then turning to the leader of the little expedition,—

“Off with you, sir.”

Ha! ha! Ow, ow, ow! came from a couple of hundred yards away—a hollow, diabolical kind of mocking laugh which sent a chill through the listeners.

“Hear that, Tommy?” whispered Wriggs as he caught his companion’s arm.

“Ay, mate, I heerd it. They’re a laughin’ at us, and it’s as good as saying as they’ll go and light a fire, and have it ready to cook the lot.”

“Gahn!” growled Wriggs. “I know now, it’s one o’ them stoopid-looking Tommy soft sort o’ howls, as Mr Oliver Lane shot at one day. You know, lad, them big, all of a heap sort o’ things, all duffie and fluff.”

Just then the cry was repeated at a distance, and soon after farther off.

“Why, it’s an owl!” cried Drew.

“I thought it must be a bird,” said the mate.

“Yer may well call ’em howls,” said Wriggs. “That’s just what they do doos.”

“I hope that’s what it is,” whispered Smith, shaking his head. “I’ve heered howls often enough, Billy; but I never heered one as could laugh like that.”

“Whatcher think, then, as it was one o’ they blacks?”

“Ay, or, if it warn’t that, one o’ they hissing things as lives in the burnin’ mountain. I’ve heerd ’em before now a pretendin’ to be steam when yer went to look for ’em.”

“Now, my lads, off with you!” cried the mate, and they hurried down from the side, joining Drew with arms shouldered, and a minute after they had disappeared in the darkness on their way to the sea.

Chapter Thirty Two.

Nature’s Warnings.

That hot sunny day passed with Oliver Lane and Panton seated in wicker chairs, under a sail stretched out as an awning, for they both declared that they could get better out in the air sooner than in the stuffy cabin. A regular watch was kept on deck, and, in addition, a man was stationed in the main-top, where a doubly folded sail had been rigged so as to form sides, and to act as a protection in case he were seen by the enemy and made a mark for their arrows; but nothing particular occurred. All around looked very beautiful, for nature was beginning to rapidly obliterate the devastation caused by the eruption and the earthquake wave. There was heat and there was moisture, with plenty of rich soil washed up in places, and these being three of her principal servants in beautifying a tropic land, they had been hard at work. Trees, whose roots had been buried in mud and sand, were putting forth green buds, the water was pretty well dried away, and in places the bare earth was showing faintly, bright patches of a tender green, while bird and insect, wonderful to see, were darting about like brilliant gems.

As the two young men sat there weak and faint, but with the happy sensation of feeling that they were, if only at the beginning, still on the road back to health and strength, it seemed to them as if the events of the night when they returned from the expedition to the volcano might have been a dream. For the blacks had scared them on that day when they were fishing, and again during the absence of part of the crew. Then they had disappeared as suddenly as they appeared, and possibly they might never come again.

Oliver thought and said so to Mr Rimmer, who, with a double gun resting in the hollow of his left arm, had joined them, for he spent nearly the whole of his time on deck.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said. “I hope it is so. We did give them a terrible peppering. I don’t think anyone was killed, but they took away enough shot to make them remember us by.”

“Poor wretches,” said Oliver. “They don’t understand the powers of civilisation.”

“Poor wretches, indeed!” said Panton, giving a writhe. “I don’t feel much pity for them. Murderous thieves.”

“They are,” said the mate, “some of them, and it’s wonderful what conceit the black beggars have. But we must not be too hopeful, for there’s no trusting savages. They jump into their canoes and they are here, there, and everywhere in a few hours. Let’s hear what report Mr Drew gives us when he comes back.”

“Hang the savages!” said Panton, pettishly.

“Must catch ’em first, sir,” said the mate, laughing.

“They seem to have put a stop to everything,” said Oliver, joining in with a smile. “But we’ll forgive them if they’ll only keep away and let us go on with our work, and,” he added with a sigh, “it is such a lovely place, and there is so much to do.”

“Yes, it’s glorious,” said Panton, as his eyes slowly took in their surroundings. “Now, too, that the volcano’s calming down, everything promises that we shall have had a glorious expedition.”

“Lovely, sir,” said the mate, drily. “What about my poor ship?”

“Yes, that is bad, but I wouldn’t mind losing a brig for the sake of reaching so wonderful a country.”

“Ah, that’s where I don’t agree with you, sir,” said the mate. “The place is very glorious, and it’s grand to get to a new country—where—”

“Look! look!” cried Oliver. “Mr Rimmer, your gun! Those birds with the long loose tails!”

“Eh? Well, I didn’t pull their tails and make ’em loose, sir. More likely the monkeys.”

“You’ve lost the chance,” cried Oliver, pettishly. “Didn’t you see? They were a kind of bird of paradise that I don’t think I have seen before.”

“Those were, sir?” said the mate, looking after the birds. “Well, I should have said they were a kind of crow.”

“Well, so they are, but very beautiful, all the same. You might shoot a few birds for me, and I could sit and skin and preserve them, then I should not feel that I was losing so much time.”

“Wait till Mr Drew comes back, sir, and begin in earnest to-morrow. I’ll shoot all I can then, and the men will be very glad of the birds without their skins, for they’re longing for fresh meat, and if we can, we must have another turn at the fish.”

“And we can’t go,” sighed Oliver. “I am so longing to study up those wonderfully-marked fish.”

“You’ll never get through all you want to do if we stay here for years,” said the mate, smiling. “But look there, I must have that.”

He pointed over the side to where a handsome little roe-deer had come trotting forward away from some half-dozen companions which had halted and were gazing wonderingly at the brig, while the one which had advanced, evidently more daring or more carried away by curiosity, came on and on till it was about fifty yards from the vessel. Here it stood at gaze, so beautiful a specimen of an animal, that Oliver felt, naturalist though he was, and eager to collect, it would be a pity to destroy so lovely a creature’s life.

There it stood in full view, profoundly ignorant of the fact that its life was in danger, while the mate hurriedly exchanged the shot cartridge in one of the chambers of the gun for a bullet. Then, laying the barrel of his gun upon the bulwark in an opening between two pieces of the sailcloth rigged up for defence, he said, softly,—

“This skin will do for a specimen, too, won’t it?”

“Yes, of course,” said Oliver, eagerly.

“That’s right, sir, and it has a beautiful head.”

He took careful aim as he spoke.

“That’s dead on the shoulder,” he said, softly, and then he fired, the young men having the satisfaction of seeing the little buck go bounding away like the wind after its companions, who went off at the flash of the gun.

“Missed him,” said Panton, rather contemptuously.

“Couldn’t have missed,” said the mate, sharply. “I took such careful aim. Wait a moment or two, and you’ll see it drop. It was a dead shot.”

“Then you didn’t kill its legs, too,” said Oliver; “they’re lively enough. How the little thing can run.”

“I tell you it’s a dead roe-buck,” said the mate, sharply.

“Then why does it keep on running?” said Panton.

“That’s the vitality left in it,” said the mate. “It will soon drop. I’ll go after it at once. It can’t run far.”

As he was speaking he hurriedly threw open the breech of his piece and drew out the discharged cartridge.

“Hullo!” he cried.

“What’s the matter?” said Oliver.

“Well, hang it all!”

“Why don’t you speak?”

“It’s enough to make any man speak,” cried the mate, angrily. “Don’t you see this is only a blue cartridge and number six shot? I pulled the wrong trigger. Here’s the bullet cartridge in the other barrel.”

“Then you only tickled the buck,” said Panton, laughing. “Why, at fifty yards that shot wouldn’t go through the skin.”

“Humph!” said the mate, “so much the better for the buck. What a pity, though; there goes a delicious dinner of good fresh venison.”

“Never mind, you may get another chance.”

“I don’t know. If this is an island, there are not likely to be a great many, and once they are shot at they will become shy. See anything, my lad?” he cried to the man in the sheltered top.

“No, sir, not a sign o’ nothing,” replied the sailor.

“Keep a sharp look-out.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

The mate turned to the wounded passengers.

“These fellows generally have an idea that their officer is as blind as a mole, and that they are as cunning as the cleverest man who was ever born. Now that fellow thinks I don’t know he was asleep at his post.”

“Was he?” said Oliver, rather anxiously.

“To be sure he was. If he had been awake he would have seen those deer and given warning, seeing how all the men are longing for a bit of fresh meat.”

“Well, it seems probable,” said Panton.

“No seem about it, Mr Panton. He was fast asleep, sir, till I fired. Then he woke up and was all eagerness. Now if I was not a good-tempered, easy-going sort of man, do you know what I should do?”

“Haul that bit of sail down and let him take his chance of getting an arrow in him for his neglect.”

The mate walked away, and ordered another man aloft to take the culprit’s place, the offender receiving a very severe bullying, and being sent below.

The day wore slowly by, and as it grew towards sundown, Mr Rimmer began to walk faster about the deck with a growing anxiety which was shared by Drew’s two companions.

“I don’t know who’d be in command!” he said. “Here have I just got through one worry because you didn’t return, had a sharp attack from savages, and had you two badly wounded; and now off goes Mr Drew and gets himself lost. Here has he been away all these hours, and he might have been back in six. There, I know how it is. The niggers are out in force, and have got between them and the brig as sure as can be, that is if they haven’t been killed before now. It will be dark directly, and as sure as fate we shall have another attack to-night. Wish I hadn’t let him go.”

“He’ll be too cautious to get into a trap,” said Oliver, whose face looked drawn and old with anxiety.

“He’ll mean to be, sir, but the blacks have a cleverness of their own, and it’s hard to get the better of them, civilised as we are. Tut, tut, tut! It would be madness to start in search of them without knowing which way to go.”

“Yet, they would be as likely to come from the west as the east.”

“Of course, and from the north as from the south. There, I’ve got blue lights ready, and the men’s arms are lying to hand. If they don’t come soon, and the blacks make their appearance instead, I’m afraid they will find me vicious.”

“Let’s try to be patient,” said Oliver.

“Patience, sir! I’ve none of that left. Now then, I think it’s time you gentlemen went below.”

“Not yet,” said Oliver. “It is so much cooler here, and if we went below we should be fidgety, and fretting horribly. There goes the sun.”

For as he spoke the great glowing disk of orange light dipped below the horizon, great broad rays shot up nearly to the firmament, which for a few minutes was of a transparent amber; then all rapidly turned grey, dark grey, pale purple, purple, and almost directly black, covered with brilliant stars.

“No moon for three hours,” said the mate, as he looked round at the black darkness, when the silence was suddenly broken by a chorus of croaking, roaring and chirruping from reptile and insect. Then came the strange trumpetings of birds; the splashings of crocodiles, accompanied by roaring barks and the flogging of the water with their tails. Once there was the unmistakable wailing cry of one of the great panther cats answered at a distance, while from the north there came every now and then a flickering flash of lightning evidently from the clouds hanging heavily over the huge crater. Then for a few moments silence, and a soft moist coolness floated by the watchers, followed by a heated puff, suggestive of a breath from the volcano, and they were conscious of a dull quivering of the deck.

“Wasn’t thunder,” said the mate. “That was a grumble down below.”

Almost as he finished speaking there was a dull muttering, soon followed, not preceded, by flash after flash.

“Like a storm upside down,” said Panton. “Not likely to have rain, are we, with the sky clear?”

“Likely to have anything,” said the mate, “round the foot of a great volcano.”

Ha ha ha, haw haw haw!

“Bah those birds again,” said Panton, as the peculiar laughing hoot of a great owl was heard, raising up quite a chorus from the nearest patch of forest, but silenced by another muttering from below.

“We’re going to have some terrible trouble, I’m afraid,” said the mate. “The volcano’s waking up again, and the birds and things know it. What’s that?”

“Rushing of wings overhead,” replied Oliver.

“Yes, the birds know, and are getting out of the way. Hark at those tiger things, too, how uneasy they are! I’d give all I’ve got, gentlemen, if Mr Drew and those two fellows were safe back on deck, for we shall have a storm to-night.”

“But we are not at sea,” said Oliver.

“More we are!” replied the mate. “’Pon my word, I was going on just as if I expected we were going to fight the waves. But I wish we were. I’d rather have solid water under me than boiling rock.”

“Quick! look out,” cried Oliver excitedly as there was a rushing trampling sound in the distance, evidently coming nearer. “It’s the savages we shall have to fight, and they’re coming on again.”

They listened in the midst of an appalling stillness, while the whole deck seemed to be quivering, and the vessel gave two or three ominous cracks. There was another flash, then a boom, and a momentary blinding glare of light, while the coming trampling for a moment ceased, but only to be resumed again, as every man grasped his weapon, and felt for his supply of ammunition, feeling that in another minute he might be face to face with death.

Chapter Thirty Three.

The Cat did it.

The quivering continued, and the earth beneath the vessel throbbed in slow pulsations. The vivid flashes and thunderous growls as of distant explosions went on, and the rushing sound of many feet came nearer and nearer as the occupants of the brig strained their eyes to pierce the transparent darkness to get a glance of their enemies, and then all stood wondering; for after rising to a certain pitch, the rushing sound began to die away gradually. Then followed a vivid flash and a heavy boom as of some huge gun, and as it died away they were conscious of a stillness that was terrible in its oppression, the quivering beneath their feet ceased, and then startling and clear, from right away to the westward, came the piercing note of the boatswain’s pipe.

“Drew!” cried Oliver, joyously.

“Yes, that’s he,” said the mate, “and he wants help. There, take charge of the deck, Mr Panton. I must go and bring him. Volunteers here: six men.”

Twelve sprang to his side, and he selected half a dozen, all well armed and ready to face anything.

As they moved to the gangway where others held the ladder ready for them to descend, the shrill note of the whistle was heard again.

“Draw up the ladder as soon as we’re down, my lads,” said the mate, “and stand ready to make a rush to help us when we come back, for we may be hard pressed.”

“Ay, ay!” came readily from the rest of the crew, and the next minute the little rescue party was off at a trot, leaving Oliver Lane and Panton feverish and excited as they writhed in their weakness and misery at being compelled to lie there inert, unable to stir a step to the help of their companion.

All was still as the footsteps died out. There was no rushing sound of an enemy at hand, the explosions and flashes from the volcano had ceased, and once more it was a calm tropic night.

But the shrill whistle could be heard at intervals of about a minute, sometimes sounding closer, sometimes apparently at a great distance.

“Won’t them black beggars hear ’em, sir?” said one of the men, drawing near to where the two young naturalists sat. “Seems to me as if it would be a deal better if Mr Drew kept that pipe in his pocket.”

“There are no blacks to hear them,” said Panton, quietly.

The man started.

“Beg pardon, sir, but me and my mates heered ’em a-rooshin’ along.”

“We all thought we did,” said Panton; “but Mr Lane and I have come to the conclusion that the sounds we heard were made by animals and birds startled by the explosions at the burning mountain, and flying for safety to the lower part of the island.”

“Why, of course,” said the man, giving his knee a slap; “there was a regular flapping noise with it, and a whizzing just as if there was swarms of great bees going along like mad. Well, I’m glad o’ that, because if we did have to fight again, I don’t want it to be in the dark.”

“There goes the whistle once more!” said Oliver excitedly, as the note rang out very clearly now, but for a long time, though they strained their ears, there was no farther sound, and they grew more and more uneasy till all at once there was a heavy thud as of some one falling.

Then silence again, and a great dread fell upon the listeners, whose active brains suggested the creeping up of treacherous blacks to brain people who were in ignorance of their presence.

But it was only a momentary dread, for the whistle chirruped shrilly again, very near now, and directly after there was a cheery “Ship ahoy!”

“Mr Rimmer’s voice,” said Oliver, excitedly.

“Yes,” cried Panton, “cheer, my lads. Answer them.”

There was a roaring hail from the brig, and in a few minutes the tramp of footsteps was plainly heard, and dimly seen figures emerged from the darkness, looking grotesque and strange.

“Down with the ladder, my lads,” cried Mr Rimmer, and directly after, the rescue party and the explorers climbed on board, two of the men panting with exertion, and dropping to the deck the carcases of a couple of little bucks.

“That’s what made them so long,” said Mr Rimmer, merrily. “They had shot all this good fresh meat, and it has taken them hours to bring it along. Here, cook, set to work on one of them at once, and let’s all have a hot grill for supper. Two of you hang the other up here in the rigging for the night.”

“But what news, Drew, of the blacks?”

“None at all. We found the marks where two great canoes had been dragged up over the sands, and the foot-prints of those who launched them again. Not a sign of them beside.”

“And our boat?”

“All right. Looks as if it had not been touched,” said Drew. “Hear the grumblings of the volcano?”

“Yes, plainly enough.”

“And the rush of quite a large herd of scared animals? They nearly ran us down and would, if it had not been for the shelter of some rocks. I am glad to get back. We had an awful job to carry those two little bucks.”

There was a merry supper that night, and on the strength of Drew’s information, the watch was somewhat relaxed, while it was late when they assembled for breakfast that morning.

“Eh? What’s that?” said Mr Rimmer, as the cook and Smith came to the cabin door.

“Want you to come and have a look, sir,” said Smith.

“Look? What at? Is anything wrong?”

“Well, sir, seems to me as it is a little bit not quite what it oughter be,” said Smith.

“There, don’t talk in riddles, man,” cried the mate, and he strode out to the deck, followed by Drew—Panton and Lane following to the door to see.

Smith led the way to where a group of the men were standing, some with buckets and swabs, but waiting before using them until their officer gave orders.

The sight that met the eyes of the new arrivals was not pleasant, but it was startling, for there was a patch of blood upon the deck, and signs of something bleeding having been dragged for a few yards to the starboard bulwarks, and then drawn up and over them, the ugly stains being on the top of the rail as well.

“I don’t quite understand it,” said the mate, hoarsely. “Who was on the watch?”

There was a dead silence.

“Someone must have been. Does it mean that the poor fellow has been assassinated?”

“A-mussy, no, sir,” said Smith, grinning, “don’tcher see, sir? That was our other supper, as we hung up there to use to-night when t’other was done. The buck we brought home.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the mate. “How absurd. But what’s become of it?”

“It’s gone, sir.”

“Well, we can see that, my lad. But how has it been stolen?”

“Yes, sir, that’s about it. In the night. Must ha’ been the cat.”

“The what?”

“Well, sir, you see, I don’t means the ship’s cat, because we ain’t got one, but I means one o’ them great spotty big toms as lives in the woods here.”

Taking their guns, the mate and Drew followed the trail, which was plainly enough marked from the side of the brig, the round soft foot-prints showing out in the light patches of sand, the fore paws well-defined and the hind partly brushed out, showing that the body of the deer had been dragged over them. Here and there, too, dry smears of blood were visible on the rough coral rock, where the animal had probably rested, and then dragged the carcase on again in its progress toward the nearest patch of forest.

“The brute must have followed me,” said Drew, “attracted by the blood which no doubt dripped as we came along, and when all was quiet followed the scent and then come on board.”

A quarter of a mile farther on the trail ceased, and it was plain enough why, for the soft sand was plentifully marked with foot-prints, and in one place bits of fur and smears of blood showed that there had been a fierce fight with tooth and claw, while broken bones and bits of hide with the short sharp horns pointed to the fact that the fight had been followed by a banquet, after which the leopards or panthers had trotted steadily off to the forest, the track of three or four of the great cat-like creatures being plainly marked.

“No use to go hunting them,” said the mate. “They go on stealing away from tree to tree, and we should never get a shot.”

They shouldered their guns and walked back, talking about the rushing and trampling noise of the preceding night, Drew having heard something of it from a distance and attributed it rightly to a sudden panic amongst the animals startled into headlong flight by the eruptive action of the volcano.

Oliver and Panton were watching them from the bulwarks against which they leaned, using their small binoculars to watch the proceeding of their companions, and both low-spirited and looking dejected at having to stay on deck through the weakness produced by their wounds.

Drew saw it as he came on board and related their experience.

“Come, I say,” he exclaimed at last, “don’t look so down-hearted.”

“All very well for you,” said Oliver, “you can get about. We’re prisoners.”

“Only for a little while. It may be my turn next,” said Drew.

“A little while!” said Oliver, sadly.

“Yes; your wound is getting better fast.”

Panton groaned.

“And yours, too,” said Drew smiling.

“Yea, that’s right, grin,” said Panton, sourly. “You’d laugh if I were dying.”

“I don’t know about then,” replied Drew, “but I can’t help laughing now.”

“Brute!”

“No, I’m not, I was only laughing at your irritability and petulance. Sure sign that you are getting better, my lad, isn’t it, doctor?”

Mr Rimmer gave the speaker a good-tempered nod.

“Oh, yes,” he said, “Mr Panton’s coming right again, fast. Nice healthy appearance about his wound, and Mr Lane’s, too. When the sea fails to get me a living I think I shall set up as quack doctor. Come, gentlemen, you are getting better, you know. Not long ago you were on your backs; then you managed to sit on deck; then to stand for a bit, and now you have been here for ever so long watching us. That don’t look as if you were going back.”

“No,” said Oliver, “but I feel so weak, and it seems to be so long before we get strong.”

“Oh, never mind that, my dear sir, so long as you are travelling on the right way. Patience, patience. Let’s get a few more days past, and then you’ll be running instead of walking, and getting such a collection together as will make us all complain about the smell.”

Oliver smiled sadly.

“Ah, but we shall,” cried the mate. “That’s what I like in Mr Drew’s collecting, he presses and dries his bits of weeds and things, and then shuts them up in books. Mr Panton’s work, too, is pleasant enough only lumpy. I shall have to get rid of the brig’s ballast and make up with his specimens of minerals to take their place.”

“Then you mean to get the brig down to the sea again?” said Oliver sharply.

Mr Rimmer took off his hat and scratched his head, as he wrinkled up his forehead and gazed with a comical look at the last speaker.

“I didn’t think about that,” he said sadly. “Seems to me, that the sooner we set about building a good-sized lugger the better, and making for some port in Java.”

“No, no,” cried Oliver; “there is no hurry. This is an exceptionally good place for our purpose, and we can all join hands at ship-building when we have exhausted the natural history of the island.”

“Very good, gentlemen, but in the meanwhile I shall strengthen our fort a little, so as to be ready for the niggers when they come again. I’ll get the carpenter at work to rig up planks above the bulwarks with a good slope outwards, so that they’ll find it harder to climb up next time they come.”

“Do you think they will come?” asked Panton, evincing more interest in the conversation.

“Oh, yes, sir,” said the mate thoughtfully, “such a ship as this would be a prize for them, and we shall have them again some day, as sure as a gun.”

Chapter Thirty Four.

Billy Wriggs smells Mussels.

That day and during the many which followed the shipwrecked party had plenty of proof of the truth of their theory about the animals and birds migrating from one side of the island to the other in consequence of fright caused by the eruption, for birds came back singly and in little flocks, many of them passing right over the brig on their way to the forest-covered lower slopes of the burning mountain.

It was the same too with insects, while from time to time a roe-buck or two would trot across the wide opening, perhaps, to stand and gaze up at the peculiar-looking object in the middle of the wave-swept plain, but always ready to dart off on any attempt being made to approach them with a gun, for already they were learning the meaning of the report.

Oliver and Panton tried hard to be patient and bear their lot, but they often fell to and had a good grumble and murmur. But soon, as the days went on and they could walk about the deck with less exertion and suffering, they brought up their guns and sat waiting by the bulwarks for the brightly painted birds as they flew over, Panton helping largely to increase his friend’s store of preserved specimens, securing for him several remarkably good lories and brilliant metallic cuckoos. The pot, as Panton called it, was not forgotten either, several large bustard-like birds being shot as they raced across the plain, besides wild duck and geese, which at times passed over in plenty.

At last the happy day arrived when the mate suggested that the patients should make an effort to get a little way from the ship, and with eyes brightened the two young men were helped down the steps in spite of their irritable declarations that they could do better alone.

Oliver drew a long deep breath as he gave a stamp upon the sand.

“Hah! That’s better,” he sighed. “Well, Panton, how do you feel?”

“I don’t know. So weak yet, but—yes, I am better, a good deal. I say, couldn’t we make a little expedition somewhere, say as far as that cavern where the sulphur hole goes right down into deep strata?”

“No, no, let’s keep out in the fresh air.”

“That’s better, gentlemen,” said the mate, descending in turn from the deck of the brig, which now looked quite like a fort with its breastwork of new planks. “Puts strength into you, don’t it, to get out here?”

“Oh, yes,” cried Panton, “now one has got over the first bit of it. I felt as if I was too weak to walk down, but I’m coming round now. Hi! One of you two go and get me my gun and the cartridges. Shall he bring yours, Lane?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Oliver rather dubiously though, as Panton shouted to “One of you two,” which proved to be Smith, who was standing looking out of a sheltered loophole with Wriggs.

“Think of going shooting?” said Mr Rimmer.

“Yes, a short trip would not hurt us, would it?” asked Oliver.

“No; do you good if you walk steadily and don’t go too far. You’ll go with them, Mr Drew?”

“Only too glad,” said that individual, “I’m longing for a bit of a trip. But hadn’t we better send out scouts first?”

“Yes, of course,” said the mate, “we mustn’t be taken by surprise. That’s the worst of being down here on so flat a place, you can’t make out whether there’s any danger.”

Hailing one of the men directly, he sent him up to the main-topgallant cross-trees with a spy-glass to carefully “sweep the offing,” as he termed it, and then as Smith brought down the guns with a very inquiring look which said dumbly but plainly enough, “You won’t leave me behind, will yer, gents?” the mate spoke out,—

“Let’s see, you have been with these gentlemen before, Smith?”

“Yes, sir, me and Billy Wriggs,” cried Smith excitedly.

“Humph. Like to have the same men again, Mr Lane, or try some fresh ones?”

“Oh, I say stick to the tools you know,” said Oliver, smiling at Smith.

“Yes, let’s have the same men again,” put in Panton.

“Hi! Wriggs,” said the mate—“down here.”

Wriggs came down smiling all over his face, and after a certain amount of scouting had been done, and the man at the cross-trees had turned his telescope in every direction in search of danger, and seen none, the little party started once more, the mate accompanying them for a few hundred yards towards the south-west.

“I’d make for the sea,” he said, “but don’t go too far.”

“I can walk that distance easily,” said Panton. “The stiffness has gone out of my legs already.”

“Glad of it,” said the mate drily; “but it isn’t the walking down to the sea.”

“What is it, then?” asked Panton, who kept on turning his head in different directions to take great breaths of the warm spicy air.

“The walking back,” said the mate. “There, take care of yourselves, and be very careful; mind, Mr Drew, they are not to go too far!”

“They will not want to,” said Drew, smiling, and the mate gave them all a friendly nod, left them at the edge of the forest, to the south of the plain, and they at once began to move forward beneath the boughs which sheltered them from the ardent sunshine.

It was a glorious morning, and to the prisoners newly escaped from confinement the sight of the forest with the long creepers which draped the boughs with dewy leaf, tendril, and brilliant blossom seemed brighter than ever, and, once more all eagerness, the collecting began.

Panton, who grumbled a little at there being nothing in his way, devoted himself to helping first one and then the other of his companions, picking some fresh leaf or flower for Drew, or bringing down an attractive bird for Oliver.

As for the two sailors, they were as pleased as schoolboys, and had to be kept back from plunging into the forest and complicating matters by losing themselves. They had not gone far before Smith uttered a shout, and on the party hurrying up he was ready to point in the direction of a piled-up clump of rocks.

“What is it?” cried Oliver.

“Deer, sir, two on ’em! They was just by that bit o’ green stone nibbling away at the grass; but as soon as I hailed you they just lifted up their heads, looked at me, and then they were gone.”

“Of course,” said Oliver, quietly. “Next time draw back so that they can’t see you, and come and tell us quietly.”

“Right, sir, if you think that’s the best way, only t’other takes least time. They might be gone before I could get to you and back again.”

“Perhaps so; but you see they are sure to be gone if you shout.”

The deer were missed; but a couple of bush turkey were soon after secured, and followed by the successful stalk of a wire-tailed bird of Paradise and a couple of gorgeously plumaged paroquets. Then followed the capture of beetles in armour of violet, green and gold, a couple of metallic-looking lizards, and a snake that seemed particularly venomous, but proved to be of quite a harmless nature.

So interesting was the walk that, in spite of the heat, no one felt tired, and they wandered on and on, forgetful of time or distance. The part traversed was perfectly new to them all, and when, at last, they had been walking for a couple of hours, and with one consent sat down to rest and partake of the lunch provided for the occasion, it was felt that, though they could not see it, they must be near to the sea on that side; so after a brief halt it was decided to push on along the side of the opening for another half-hour, and try whether they could reach the coast.

“But it’s for you to decide,” said Drew.

“It ain’t far, sir,” interposed Wriggs.

“Let us decide, please,” said Drew, rather stiffly.

“Certeny, sir.”

“But what makes you think we are so near the coast?” said Oliver. “It is so flat we can see nothing.”

“No, sir, you can’t; but me and Tommy Smith have been at it for some time, whenever we gets a puff o’ wind.”

“Been at what?”

“Sniffin’, sir. Every now and then you gets it a smellin’ o’ hysters. Next minute it’s mussels, and directly after it’s cockles all alive o’!”

“And sea-weed, Billy Wriggs.”

“So it is, messmate, but I didn’t say nowt, cause sea-weed’s such common stuff.”

“Yes, he’s right,” said Drew. “I can smell the sea quite plainly.”

“Like mussels, sir?” said Smith.

“No,” replied Drew, smiling. “It’s more like sea-weed to me, my lad.”

“That’s it, sir. All the same,” growled Smith. “Means as we’re close to the shore, anyhow. I kept on a-listening, ’specting to hear the sea go boom, boom on the reef; sir, and thinking about the sharp rocks going through the bottom of a ship.”

Wark, wark, wok, wok, wok!

The now familiar cawing cry of the paradise bird came from close at hand, and, with his eyes glistening, Oliver made a sign to the rest to remain where they were. Then, softly cocking his piece, he stole in through the thick bush-like tangle which extended for a few yards before the tall forest tree-trunks rose up to spread branches which effectually shut out the sun and checked all undergrowth while they turned their leaves and flowers to the sun, a hundred and fifty or two hundred feet in the air.

“Hadn’t I better foller him, sir?” said Smith.

“No; he is more likely to get a specimen alone,” replied Drew. “We’ll go on round that corner where the forest edge seems to bend away to the south, and wait for him there.”

He indicated a spot about a hundred yards farther on, and the party walked slowly along till the bend was reached, when as they caught a puff of the soft warm air from which they had been sheltered, Smith suddenly threw up his head, expanded his nostrils, as he drew in a deep breath and exclaimed,—

“Hysters!”

“Nay, lad,” cried Wriggs, who had followed his example.

“Mussels!”

“It’s both on ’em, matey,” cried Smith. “Hear that?”

Everyone did hear “that”—the deep, heavy, dull, booming thud of a roller, as in imagination they saw it come running in like a wall of water to strike on the reef; curl over in a brilliant, many-hued arch, and break in thousands of sheaves of diamond spray.

“It can’t be more than a mile away,” said Drew, quickly, as he began to look about for a spot where he could throw himself down and rest while they waited.

“No,” said Panton; “the wave must have swept along here and spread off a little to the south, clearing the forest away to the edge of the lagoon. Yonder’s the still water; I can just catch the gleam of it and the long roll of the breakers farther away. Hah it’s nice here. How fresh the sea air smells!”

“Salt,” said Drew, quietly.

“Any objection to me and Billy Wriggs going and having a dip, sir?” said Smith, respectfully.

“Yes—now,” said Panton. “Mr Lane may be back directly, and we had better keep together; perhaps we shall all go down to the sea when he joins us.”

“Thank-ye, sir, all the same,” said the sailor—“whether we gets what we wants and whether we doesn’t,” he added to himself; as he walked away. Then aloud,—“Billy, my lad, it aren’t no go, and we’ve got to stop dirty till we all goes down to the sea together. So let’s you and me, matey, begin to look for cooriosities. How do we know as we mayn’t find dymons and precious stones, pearls, and silver and gold, all a-lying about waiting to be picked up and put in your pockets.”

“Gammon! I wants a bit o’ pig-tail, matey,” replied Wriggs. “Let’s go along here to that there bit o’ stone, where we can sit down and talk without their hearin’ on us. Come on.”

He led the way, and, in a few yards, the beautiful lagoon, hidden before by an irregularity, lay spread out before them like a sheet of blue and silver, spreading for miles along the western shore.

“Smell the mussels now, my lad?” cried Wriggs triumphantly.

“Hysters, I tells yer!” cried Smith, excitedly, as, with a leap like a panther, he sprang right upon his messmate’s back, sending him down heavily upon his breast with Smith lying flat upon him.

Wriggs screwed his head round to look in his companion’s face, which was only a few inches away.

“Whatcher do that there for?” he asked, plaintively.

“Can’t you see, stoopid?” growled Smith. “Look.”

He pointed straight away to where, about half a mile distant, a couple of large canoes, crowded with men, were coming swiftly along the smooth waters of the lagoon, their occupants apparently aiming for a point opposite to where the two sailors lay.

Chapter Thirty Five.

By the Skin of their Teeth.

“Murder!” said Wriggs, in a low voice.

“That there will be, Billy, if them chaps don’t let us alone. Look here, mate, it aren’t their island; they lives somewheres else, or they wouldn’t want a boat—bah! I don’t call them holler logs boats—to get here. Who are they, I should like to know? Just a-cause we’re ashore, and can’t get our ship afloat they think they’re going to do just what they please with us. But we’ve got guns, Billy, and we know how to use ’em, mate, and if they think as they’re going to collar off all there is aboard the Planet, they’re jolly well out of their reckoning, eh, Billy?”

Smith had by this time shifted himself to his messmate’s side and was looking at him earnestly, but Wriggs did not stir, he only rested his chin upon his hands and stared hard at the two canoes.

“Now, then, d’yer hear what I said?”

Wriggs gave a short nod.

“Well, say something, then. What’cher thinking about?”

“I was a thinking, Tommy, as it warn’t no use for you to go on talking, when we ought to be toddlin’ back and telling the three gents as we’re in a mess.”

“Well, there is something in that, Billy. What d’yer say, then, shall we run and tell ’em?”

“No, Tommy; if we gets up and begins to run, them crystal minstrel chaps’ll see us, and come arter us like hooray. We oughter congeal ourselves back again.”

“How are we to, when there aren’t no trees to congeal behind?”

“This how,” said Wriggs. “I’m off. You foller arter me same way.”

As soon as he had done speaking, he laid his gun close down by his side and began to roll himself over and over with such rapidity that he was some yards away before Smith thought of imitating his action.

“Well, this here is a rum ’un,” he grumbled. “I never thought when I come to sea as I should have to turn myself into a garden roller. But one never knows!”

He began rolling himself as fast as he could after Wriggs, and at last, after they both had to correct several divergences from their proper course, they approached the two friends, who were seated beneath a tree.

“Look, Panton!” cried Drew, excitedly.

“What at?”

“Those two fellows. They must have found and been eating some poisonous kind of berry. They’ve gone mad.”

“More likely been breathing some bad volcanic gas. Here, I say, you two, what’s the matter with you?” he cried, as Wriggs rolled close up to him, and stopped to lie with his mouth open, staring, but too giddy to speak.

“I thought so,” said Drew. “We must get them back to the ship and give them something.”

At that moment Smith rolled up, and lay giddy and staring.

“Here, you two: can’t you speak? What’s the matter with you?”

Wriggs pointed at Smith, as much as to say, “Ask him,” and when the friends looked in his direction, Smith nodded at Wriggs.

“We must get back,” cried Panton. “Ahoy–y–y–y! Lane! Ahoy–y–y–y–y!” he shouted.

“Don’t, sir! don’t!” cried Wriggs, in a choking voice.

“Why not?” cried Drew. “What’s the matter with you? Here, try and get up.”

“No, no, sir,” they cried in duet.

“Then, what is it?”

“Niggers, sir,” gasped Smith. “Comin’ ashore!”

“Quick, close under cover!” said Panton, and all crawled under the shade of the nearest tree.

“Now, where are they?” said Panton.

“You can’t see ’em from here, sir, but we saw the whole lot on ’em in two canoes, a comin’ on like steam, and they’ll be here afore many minutes have gone.”

“Quick, then!” cried Panton. “Here, you are best at it, Smith. Hail Mr Lane as loudly as you can.”

The man stared at him.

“Hail him, sir, with that there lot o’ black ruffyians just landing! Why, it’s saying to ’em, ‘Here we are, my lads; come an’ catch us.’”

“Of course! You are right,” cried Panton, excitedly, as he stood wiping his face. “But what are we to do?”

“Two of us must try and track him,” said Drew. “Do you think they heard me shouting before?”

“Dunno, sir. On’y hope as they didn’t, that’s all, sir,” said Wriggs.

“Perhaps they did not,” said Drew, hurriedly. “But look here, Lane can’t have gone far, he was too weak to make much of a journey. Here, Wriggs, come with me. You two keep quite close in hiding.”

At that moment from one of the trees at the edge of the forest, there rang out the hoarse, cawing cry of one of the paradise birds, and directly after they saw that a little flock had taken flight, and were crossing the open land to make for the forest, far away toward the slope of the mountain.

A sudden thought inspired Drew, and signing to his companions, he put his hands close to his lips and gave vent to a very fair imitation of the bird’s note. In fact, so close was it, that they saw a couple of birds in the little flock wheel round and come back over their heads, till evidently detecting that it was a deceit, they flew off again.

“There; what’s the good of that, man?” cried Panton, angrily. “You couldn’t deceive them.”

“No, but I may trick poor Lane. He’ll think it is some of the birds, and come back eagerly to try and shoot one.”

“Bah!” ejaculated Panton; but Drew took no heed of his impatient, angry manner. Putting his hands to his mouth again, he produced a capital imitation of the bird’s call note, and then stood listening.

There was no rustling of the undergrowth, though, nor sign of an eager white face peering out of the dim twilight among the great shadowy tree-trunks, but a noise arose from the distance, which sent a thrill through every one present, and made all strain their ears in the direction of the shore, for it was the murmur of a crowd.

It was a strange, awe-inspiring sound, suggesting a horrible death at the hands of merciless savages, and, acting under one impulse, the two sailors glanced at Panton, and Drew saw plainly enough their startled look of horror, as they turned and ran as hard as they could go back along the edge of the forest toward the brig.

“The cowardly hounds!” said Panton, between his teeth, and he involuntarily cocked his gun. “I could find it in my heart to send a charge of shot after them.”

“Let them go,” cried Drew, bitterly. “We must hide here in the forest. They will warn Mr Rimmer, and perhaps it’s best.”

He finished his speech with the loud wok, wok, wawk again.

“Do stop that abominable row,” cried Panton, whom the weakness had made irritable. “You’ll bring the niggers straight to us.”

“I sha’n’t stop it,” said Drew, coolly, and he repeated the call. “There!” he cried triumphantly, “that was it, exactly.”

“Pish!” said Panton.

“I told you so,” said Drew, excitedly, as the murmur of the approaching Papuans came nearer, and at the same moment there was a rushing of wings, as half a dozen large birds perched in one of the trees and gave proof of the exactitude of the botanist’s imitation by answering loudly, as if to say, “Who was it called?”

Meanwhile Smith and Wriggs had run as hard as they could go for about a hundred and fifty yards, and then, once more moved by the same impulse, they pulled up short.

“Woa hoa! Woa ho a ho!” said Smith, in a deep, smothered voice.

“Avast below there,” cried Wriggs, panting hard. “Stopped ’em at last, Billy,” said Smith. “Ay, and mine too, Tommy; I never see such a cowardly pair o’ legs afore, did you?”

“Yes, matey, mine’s the worstest, for they begun it and started yourn. Think on ’em, running away and taking us along with ’em, leaving one’s officers in the lurch like that.”

“Ay, ’nuff to make a man wish as they was wooden legs, Tommy, eh?”

“Or cork, messmet. But don’t jaw, Billy. Let ’em have it. Make the beggars run as they never run afore. Come on back again.”

The two men took hold of hands and ran back as hard as ever they could go to where Panton and Drew were standing, and as they came up the flock of Paradise birds flew off again, and the murmur of the Papuans’ voices sounded very near.

“Then you thought better of it,” said Panton, fiercely.

“Nay, sir, never thought at all,” replied Smith, stolidly. “Did you ever see two pair of such legs as these here?” and he gave his thighs each a tremendous slap, Wriggs following his example.

“What do you mean?” said Panton, roughly.

“Wawk, wawk, wawk, wawk, wawk!” cried Drew, with his face turned to the forest.

“That we didn’t, sir,” said Smith, indignantly. “They took the bit in their teeth and bolted just like hosses, and run; there warn’t no walk about it, or I wouldn’t ha’ minded it so much. But we pulled up as soon as we could, didn’t we, Billy?”

“Ay, mate, that’s so,” growled Wriggs. “But hadn’t we better stow under kiver? Them charcoal chaps is getting precious nigh.”

“What! are you going to stop?” said Panton.

“Yes, sir, course we is,” said Smith, in an ill-used way. “We couldn’t help it if our legs warn’t under control. You don’t know, p’raps, but I do, and Billy Wriggs too, what trouble a man’s legs’ll get him in. Why, I’ve known Billy’s legs take him ashore to a public-house, and then they’ve got in such a nasty state o’ what Mr Rimmer calls tossication, that they couldn’t stand. Didn’t they, Billy?”

“Ay, Tommy, they did, lad,” growled Wriggs; “but speak the truth, messmate, and don’t keep nought back. Yourn was just as bad.”

“Wuss, Billy, ever so much, and I was quite ashamed to take ’em on board again. Oh, murder! Look-ye there!” Smith exclaimed, in a hoarse whisper, and he dropped down flat.

“Legs again!” growled Wriggs, following his example, one that the others were not slow to adopt, for all at once the heads of several spears came into view, and hardly had the little party crept well under cover before there was a sudden burst of voices, and they could see the black faces of a crowd of Papuans advancing.

There was very little cover, and, to the horror of all, they saw and heard that the enemy had what the military would term flankers out, in shape of a couple of men at each end of their line; and while the main body kept along out in the open, the scouts at the right forced their way through the undergrowth and among the trees at the edge of the forest.

Those were crucial minutes, and both Panton and Drew felt that at any moment they might be seen, for two naked figures came nearer and nearer through the trees, till their white eyeballs and glistening teeth could be seen plainly, and as Panton crouched there, with his piece convulsively clutched in his hands, he felt certain that one of the men saw him plainly, and was striding to get nearer, so as to be within reach for a deadly thrust with his spear.

On and on he came, glaring straight before him, holding his weapon carefully poised, and in utter ignorance of how near he was to death, for at the slightest gesture Panton would have drawn trigger and shot the savage in his track, a charge of bird shot at so short a distance being as effectual as a bullet.

“It will be an enemy the less,” he thought, and at one instant he had determined upon firing and making sure before the man thrust at him with his spear.

Just then there was a faint crack as of a twig being sharply broken, and the savage turned quickly round to stand in an attitude of attention, poised spear in one hand, bow and arrows in the other, ready to throw or strike as the need might be.

Panton and his companions lay and crouched there, breathlessly, all trembling with excitement, not with dread. For the same thought as now invaded Panton’s breast came to Drew’s—that it was Oliver Lane, attracted by the imitation of the bird’s cry, making his way back into a horrible trap.

As if moved by the same muscles, two barrels rose slowly to a horizontal position, and fingers were upon triggers ready to press the mechanism and pour the deadly contents into the savage the moment he raised his hand to strike or took step forward to get a better aim.

Never was man nearer death, for all thought of the danger to self was non-existent. All the two young men had in their minds was that poor Oliver Lane must be saved, and, if guns had carried truly, the black would have fallen.

The shots would have brought the enemy upon them with a rush, but neither thought of that, and so they waited, watching the naked back of the savage, above which appeared his head, with the hair gummed and matted out to a tremendous size, somewhat resembling the cap of a grenadier officer, though looking larger in the forest gloom.

But no further token of another presence was heard, and after waiting, watchful and alert, for the next sound, the savage looked about keenly, and then turned, gave a sharp look round, and continued his course, seeming as if; with all his acuteness, the cracking stick had so taken off his attention that he completely overlooked the danger within a few yards of where he stood.

Just then there was a low call from the main body of the enemy, which the man answered, and the next minute he had, with his companions, passed on out of sight, leaving the hidden party at liberty to breathe freely.

Chapter Thirty Six.

Tommy Smith as a Forlorn Hope.

“What an escape!” exclaimed Drew at last.

“Yes,” said Panton, wiping the cold perspiration from his brow, “for him, too.”

“But what next?” exclaimed Drew. “I’m thinking about poor Rimmer. Can’t one of us get round through the forest before them, and warn them on board the brig? It will be horrible for them to be surprised.”

“You know we can’t get through these trees,” said Panton sadly, “and it would take a day if we could. But Rimmer won’t be surprised.”

“No, I hope not,” said Drew. “We ought to have sent a man back to warn him.”

“We meant to go ourselves, only we couldn’t leave poor Lane in the lurch.”

“No,” said Drew, with a sigh. “Do you think it’s safe yet to imitate the birds again?”

“No, I don’t,” said Panton, sharply. “You’ll bring the enemy back upon us if you do that. Now, then, at all hazards we must go in search of him. I’m afraid he has broken down from the exertion.”

“No, he hasn’t,” said a voice in a low tone, and to the intense delight of all, Lane raised his head from the ground, so that they could see his face all torn and bleeding, from its owner having had to force his way as he crawled through the dense creepers at the edge of the forest.

“Thank heaven!” cried Panton, and he let his head drop down upon his hands in his weakness produced by long suffering and over-exertion.

“Then you saw the savages?” said Drew, excitedly.

“Yes. I was creeping in this direction, to get a shot at some of the paradise birds which I heard calling, when I came suddenly upon a black, and in endeavouring to crawl silently away, a piece of wood snapped under my hand and made the man turn toward me. I had to be perfectly still for a long time before he went on. Are there any more?”

“Fifty at least, so the men say,” replied Panton, recovering himself. “But are you at all hurt?”

“Only scratched and done up. I feel so weak. But what are you going to do?”

“Crawl back through the edge of the forest till we are near the brig, and then wait till night—if we escape notice. Seems the best way.”

“And then,” said Oliver, “if they make an attack on the brig, we can take them in flank or rear, perhaps scare them off.”

“Beg pardon, sir,” said Smith. “It’s only a sort of a kind o’ disgestion like as you can do or no, but them beggars has left their boats. How would it be for us to go down to the shore and grab one and sink t’other? Then we should be free to sail away where we liked.”

“Without provisions, compass, or water?” said Panton, drily.

“And leave our friends in the lurch?” said Drew.

“O’ course,” said Smith, scratching his head. “That’s the wust o’ my dis—suggestions; there’s allus a screw loose or suthin’ wrong about ’em, so as they won’t hold water.”

“Allus,” said Wriggs, solemnly.

“Deal you know about it,” growled Smith. “Don’t you get a shovin’ your oar in that how. P’raps you’ve got a better hidear? ’Cause if you have, let it off at once for the gents to hear. I on’y said what I thought.”

“Quite right, Smith,” interposed Lane. “Don’t be cross about it, because the idea will not work.”

“Oh, no, sir, I ar’n’t cross and I ar’n’t a-goin’ to be cross, but I don’t like it when Billy Wriggs will be so jolly clever and get thinking as he knows every blessed thing as there is in life. He don’t propose any good things, do he?”

“No, Tommy, I don’t,” said Wriggs, quietly. “It ar’n’t in my way o’ business. Ropes and swabbing and pullin’ a oar or setting of a sail’s more in my line, mate.”

“That will do,” said Oliver, firmly, and somehow, though he was yet weak and rather helpless from the injury he had received, he dropped at once into a way of taking the lead, unchallenged by either of his elder companions.

“Now, then,” he continued, “is there any better plan? Silence! Then we’ll try the one we have before us, and follow cautiously in the savages’ track.”

“How do you feel, Lane?” said Panton in a whisper, as they two stood together during a halt.

“Tired and hot.”

“So do I, but I didn’t mean that. Do you feel fighty?”

“Fighty? No; not at all. Rather, as if I should like to run away.”

“That’s frank,” said Panton.

“Well, it’s the truth. I’m weak and done up, and I don’t think I’m one of the fighting sort. It doesn’t seem nice either to shoot at human beings, but I suppose we shall have to.”

“Yes, it’s their lives or ours, my lad; but as you say, it’s not nice. You won’t think me a coward, will you, if I tell you that I feel just the same as you do?”

“Hush! don’t talk,” whispered Drew, who was a little way in front, keeping a sharp look-out, “I don’t think they are far ahead. Ready to go on?”

“Yes,” said the others in a breath, and the toilsome march was resumed, Drew, as the lightest and most active, going in front, the two sailors following, and Oliver Lane and Panton, as the weakest of the party, bringing up the rear.

The sun beat down with tremendous force, but the heat was forgotten in the excitement, as, forced by circumstances to imitate the savages, the little party crept cautiously on, taking advantage of every bit of cover and keeping well in under the shade of the trees at the edge of the forest. At any moment it was felt that they might come upon the rear of the enemy, when, if undiscovered, the aim was to remain in hiding. If seen, Drew proposed to wait until there was any attack, and then fire; the others to follow, taking their cue from him, and without hurrying, following one another, so as to give those who fired first time to reload and continue a steady fusillade. This, it was hoped, would drive the savage crew into confusion and enable the party to get on to where they would be opposite to the brig, when they could rush across without running the risk of being fired at by their friends, who would have had fair warning of their approach and be ready to help them.

These were their plans, but everything depended upon the Papuans, who had unaccountably disappeared.

For it seemed to all that they ought to have been overtaken some time before, whereas they had for some time seen no sign of them, nor heard so much as a whisper.

All at once, when they were still quite a mile from the brig, and while Oliver was being tortured by opportunities for acquiring magnificent specimens of butterfly and bird of which he could not avail himself, Drew stopped short, and let the others come close up to where he was crouching beneath the huge leaves of a dwarf palm.

“I dare not go any further,” he whispered, “for I feel certain that we are walking right into a trap.”

“Why?” asked Oliver. “You say you have neither seen nor heard anything of them.”

“I can’t tell you, but somehow I feel as if they are lying in ambush, waiting for us, and I can’t lead you on to your death.”

These words acted like a chill to all, and for the full space of a minute there was utter silence. Then Oliver spoke.

“I feel so weak and helpless, that I do not like to make proposals,” he said, “but how would it be to try and play boldly?”

“How?” asked Panton.

“By taking the initiative and attacking.”

“Madness,” said Drew.

“I don’t know that. Our shots would let Mr Rimmer know that we are in danger. It is too far-off to make him hear the boatswain’s whistle. As soon as he knew he would come to our help, and we should have the enemy then between two fires. They would be scared, and either throw down their arms or take to the woods.”

There was silence again after these words, and then Panton spoke.

“Won’t do, Lane,” he said. “You speak as if you were as strong as Smith or Wriggs here, and all the time you are as helpless and weak as I.”

“Yes,” said Drew. “It is like being only three to attack fifty.”

Oliver was silent, for he felt the force of his companion’s remark.

“Like to send me or Billy Wriggs on ahead, gentlemen?” said Smith.

“What for, man?” said Panton, impatiently.

“I don’t quite zackly know, sir, but I’ve got a brother as is a soger, and he was a tellin’ me that when they fight the niggers up in the hills, where they shuts themselves up strong behind stone walls, with lots o’ big ones ready to chuck down on them as comes to attack, they sends some one fust, and calls him a f’lorn hope. I don’t quite know what good it is, but I’ll go and be a f’lorn hope if you like, or so would Billy Wriggs here. P’r’aps he’d do butter, sir, for he’s a more mizz’able-looking chap than me.”

Panton smiled.

“It’s very good and brave of you, my lad,” he said.

“Oh, don’t you make no mistake about that, sir,” said Smith, shaking his head. “I’m only a sailor, and not a soger, and not brave at all.”

“Speak the truth, Tommy,” said Wriggs, in a tone of protest.

“Well, that is the truth, Billy; I ar’n’t what you call a brave chap, and I can’t fight a bit till some one hurts me, and then I s’pose I do let go, ’cause you see I feel nasty and sawage like, but that ar’n’t being brave.”

“Don’t you believe him, gents,” growled Wriggs; “he is a brave chap when his monkey’s up. You can’t hold him then.”

“Yah, don’t talk stuff, my lad,” said Smith, bashfully. “How can a chap be brave as has got two legs as runs away with him as soon as he’s scared?”

“Hush!” whispered Drew, “we are talking too loudly. Look here, Lane, and you, Panton: we had better wait for the darkness, and then take our chance of making a dash for the brig.”

“And spend all these weary hours in this heat without water. It would be horrible.”

“Lie down, and try and pass the time in sleep, while we watch.”

“She’s at it again, sir,” whispered Wriggs, with bated breath, as he made a clutch at his messmate and held on tightly, for a curious heaving sensation, as of a wave passing beneath them, was felt, followed by a deep booming roar from northward.

“Ay,” whispered Smith, “and if she’d suck one o’ them big waves ashore and make a clean sweep o’ these charcoal chaps, she’d be doing some good.”

“That’s so, messmate,” growled Wriggs, “for black-skins as can’t live in a beautiful country without wantin’ to kill and eat their neighbours, oughtn’t to be ’lowed to live at all, that’s what I says about them. Here, hold tight!”

He set the example by throwing his arms about a young tree, for there was a peculiar rushing sound as the earth quivered and the trees of the forest bent over and seemed as if stricken by some tremendous blast, though all the time there was not a breath of air.

Then they became conscious of a black cloud rising over the forest beyond the clearing, as if the precursor of some fresh eruption.

“I say, Billy,” whispered Smith, “oughtn’t this here to scare them sawages?”

“I should say so,” replied the other; “all I know is that it scares me.”

“Hist—hist!” whispered Drew, as he pointed forward and signed to the others to lie close, for from out of the edge of the forest, about a hundred yards in front, a black head was thrust forth from among the trees.

It was a strange and incongruous sight. Between the hiding party and the black scout of the savages there ran a high wall of dazzling green of many tints, bright flowers hung clustering down, the dazzling sun shone from the vivid blue sky, and every now and then bird and butterfly of effulgent hue flitted before their sight; while there, just beyond this strip of glorious beauty, there was the hideous black grotesque head of the Papuan, evidently scanning the side of the forest back towards where they were hidden.

The next minute he had drawn back, but only to spring out with a shout, brandishing his club, while his cry was taken up by fifty throats, as with a roar the whole band rushed into sight, and dashed down towards where the little party lay.

Chapter Thirty Seven.

Earth’s Mystery at Work.

Oliver Lane’s hands trembled and then became steady as the fierce-looking rout of nearly nude savages came rushing on. No words were spoken in those few brief moments, but it was an understood thing among them all that they were to hold their fire till the Papuans were close upon their hiding place, and then to draw trigger together, in the full belief, or rather hope, that the volley they would deliver would check the enemy, and the following fire from the second barrels complete their discomfiture.

And so during those moments, as Oliver Lane and his companions watched the on-coming rush—moments which seemed to be drawn-out to quite a reckonable space of time—all waited with levelled piece and finger on trigger for the sudden swerve in amongst them as the savages dashed along the open ground with eyes dilated, teeth gleaming, and a fierce look that betokened little mercy.