"What?"

"Go raving mad, sir, so I shoved some more stuff on the fire, and as soon as it began to blaze and crackle there was a bigger hissing than ever, and the serpents all came rushing at me, and I ran for my life and to try and find you."

"Come along," cried Panton. "We must get back and find Smith."

"You never will, sir," said Wriggs, dolefully. "Poor old Tommy's gone. I expect it was the snakes. They must have smelt as it was we who skinned their mates. I had a narrow escape from 'em."

"Did you see them?" asked Oliver.

"Well, sir, I didn't zackly see 'em, but I could hear 'em all about me awful."

"Then you are not sure they were snakes?"

"Not sure, sir? Why, that I am. Nothing else couldn't keep on hissing at you but snakes and sarpents. Oh, lor! it's a horful lonesome place, I was a shivering all down my back. Why, not long ago, while I was coming along hailing of yer, I heard a mountain come sliding down like thunder, and shooting loads o' stones."

"You've been scared, Wriggs," said Oliver, as he hurried the man back. "Tell me again."

"What, 'bout being scared, sir?"

"Nonsense, we mustn't be scared at a noise; I mean about Smith wandering away."

"Aren't nowt to tell, sir, only as he went to get some more wood, and the sarpents caught him. Swaller a feller up whole, don't they, sir?"

"Serpents do swallow their food whole," said Oliver.

"Ah, that accounts for his not answering when I shouted. Of course, I couldn't hear him or him me if he was swallowed down into some long thing's inside."

"There, that will do," said Oliver, impatiently. "I say, Panton, are we going right?"

"Must be; the edge of the wood is below us on the right."

"But everything looks so different."

"Yes, looks dark," said Drew. "But we ought to be pretty close to the place now."

"I'm afraid we've turned up too much among the rocks. It will be horrible to be lost now. I wish we had not come," said Panton. "We ought to be resting ready for our work to-morrow."

"All right: we've passed the opening into the forest," cried Oliver.

"How do you know?"

"Look back a little, and you'll see the gleam of the fire. There, look."

For, as they stopped and glanced back, there was a sudden blaze of light from some fifty yards below them, as if the fire had fallen together and flashed up.

"I thought we couldn't be far away," continued Oliver.

"Look, look, sir," whispered Wriggs, stopping short, and catching the young man's arm.

"What at? The fire? Yes, I see it."

"No, sir, close to it. There, it's a-moving. Tommy Smith's ghost."

"Ahoy, ghost!" shouted Oliver, as he caught sight of the figure.

"Ahoy it is, sir," came in stentorian tones. "Seen anything o' poor Billy Wriggs, sir? He's wanished."

"Mussy on me, Tommy," shouted Wriggs, running forward to grasp his comrade's hand, "I thought you was a dead 'un."

"Not so bad as that, messmet," said Smith shaking hands heartily, "but I had a nasty tumble down into a sort o' crack place, and it reg'lar stunned me for a bit, and when I come back you was gone."

"But did you hear 'em?" said Wriggs, in a husky whisper.

"Who's 'em?" said Smith.

"Sarpents."

"What, a-hissin' like mad?"

"Ay."

"'Tarn't serpents, Billy, it's some hot water holes clost by here, and every now and then they spits steam. Fust time I heerd it I thought it was a cat."

Half an hour later all were sleeping soundly, only one having his slumber disturbed by dreams, and that was Wriggs, who had turned over on his back, and in imagination saw himself surrounded by huge snakes, all in two pieces. They rose up and hissed at him while he struggled to get away, but seemed to be held down by something invisible; but the most horrible part of his dream was that some of the serpents hissed at him with their heads, and others stood up on the part where they had been divided, and hissed at him with the points of their tails.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

UP THE MOUNTAIN.

The sun was shining upon the globular mist which floated high up over the top of the mountain when Panton woke and roused his companions, and while the men raked up the embers, added wood to get the kettle to boil, the three young companions walked to the spring for a bathe, by way of preparation for an arduous day's work. Here they found, deep down in a crack among the rocks, quite an extensive pool, into which the hot spring flowed, and a journey of thirty or forty yards among the rocks, exposed to the air, was sufficient to temper its heat into a pleasant warmth, whose effects were delicious, giving to the skin, as it did, consequent upon the salts it contained, a soft, silky feeling, which tempted them to stay in longer.

"It wouldn't do," said Panton, withdrawing himself from the seductive influence of the bath. "It would be enervating, I'm sure."

"Yes, let's dress," cried Oliver, and soon after they were making a hearty meal, gazing up at the great slope they had to surmount, and noting as they ate, the sinuous lines which appeared here and there upon the mountain-side, and which they knew, from experience, to be cracks.

"Must dodge all of them, if we can," said Panton with his mouth full. "If not, Smith must lay the ladder across for a bridge."

"But, I say, Lane," said Drew, after gazing upward for some time in silence, "didn't you lay it on a bit too thick when we found you?"

"Yes," said Panton, "about the difficulty of the climb. Why, it looks nothing. Only a hot tiring walk. I say, we ought to be peeping down into the crater in an hour's time."

"Yes, we ought to be," said Oliver, drily. "Look sharp, my lads, eat all you can, and then let's start. The tent can stay as it is till we come back. We'll take nothing but some food and our bottles of water. You carry the ladder, Wriggs, and you that long pole and the ropes, Smith."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the men in duet, and a quarter of an hour later Oliver, as having been pioneer, took the lead, and leaving the rugged rocky ground they planted their feet upon the slope and began to climb.

"Don't seem to get much nearer the top," said Drew at the end of two hours, when he had proposed that they should halt for a few minutes to admire the prospect, in which Panton at once began to take a great deal of interest.

"No, we haven't reached the top yet," said Oliver, drily.

"What a view!" cried Drew. "Oughtn't we soon to see the brig?"

"No," replied Oliver; "if we cannot see the mountain from the vessel, how can we expect to see the vessel from the mountain? Ready to go on?"

"Yes, directly," said Panton. "You can see the ocean, though, and the surf on the barrier reef. But I don't see any sign of savages."

"Phew! What's that?" cried Drew, suddenly.

"Puff of hot air from the mountain, or else from some crack. There must be one near."

Oliver looked round and upward, but no inequality was visible, and they climbed slowly and steadily up for some hundred yards before Panton, who was now first, stopped short.

"I say, look here!" he cried. "We're done, and must go back."

Oliver joined him, and then gazed away to the west.

"This is the great crack I told you about," he said, "but it is much narrower here."

"And not so deep, eh?" said Panton, with a slight sneer.

"That I can't say," replied Oliver; "deep enough if you could look straight down. Here, Smith, let's have the ladder. Will it reach?"

The two men came up with the light ladder and pushed it across to find that it was long enough to act as a bridge with a couple of feet to spare.

"But it looks too risky," said Drew, while the two sailors glanced at each other and scratched their heads as they wondered whether one of them would be sent forward to try the ladder's strength.

"Yes, it looks risky," said Oliver, coolly, "but we have to do it."

"No, no," said Panton warmly, "it is too bad. I was disposed to chaff you, Lane, because you threw the hatchet a little about your adventures. It would be madness to cross that horrible rift."

"Hear, hear," said Smith, in an undertone.

"As aforesaid," said Wriggs.

"We're going across there," said Lane, coolly. "It's the nearest way up and only needs care."

"But, oh! poof!" exclaimed Drew, "you can smell a horrible reek coming up."

"Yes, that's what we keep getting puffs of as we climb. Give me the end of that coil of line, Smith."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Will it bear me?"

"Half a dozen o' your sort, sir. It's quite noo."

"Good," said Oliver, securing the end tightly about his chest.

"Then you're going to venture?" said Panton.

"Of course, and you're all coming, too. But you'll hold the line and if the ladder breaks or I slip off, you'll hang on and drag me out?"

"Of course. But—"

"Never mind the buts," said Oliver, smiling, and just then, piqued by his companion's banter, he would have crossed had the danger been far greater.

"I say," cried Drew, "won't the sides crumble in from under the ladder?"

"Not likely," said Oliver, coolly; "there's a little ash at the edges, but just below it is solid lava rock."

"Yes, that's so; and this is a huge crack formed in the cooling," said Panton.

"Ready!" cried Oliver. "Hold the rope so that there is no drag upon me, but be ready to tighten."

No one spoke, and Oliver walked to the ladder, placed one foot upon a round, leaned forward, and looked down.

"You can see here," he said, without turning his head, "it goes down till all is black darkness. Now then, let the rope slide through your finger. Ready?"

"Yes, all right."

Then, to the horror of all, instead of going down upon hands and knees, and crawling across, Oliver stepped boldly on upright from round to round, till he reached the centre, where he stopped short, for the slight poles of the ladder had given and given, sinking lower, till it seemed as if they must break. Oliver knew it well, and had stopped short, expecting to feel the check of the rope, which grew moist in the hands which involuntarily tightened around it. The party in safety watched with starting eyes, and breath held till, after a pause of some seconds, which appeared to be prolonged into minutes, the bending ladder began to spring and creak again, as, with his balance regained, Oliver stepped on, round by round, and then reached the other side. Only about a dozen feet, but to all it seemed like a horrible, long journey of the greatest peril.

"Lane, lad," cried Panton, excitedly, as soon as his friend was over, "what madness to go like that!"

"Shouldn't have thought me a coward and a boaster, then," said Oliver, sitting down about three yards from the edge of the chasm, and unfastening the rope from about his chest. "But it isn't safe to come like that; I nearly lost my balance, the ladder bends so. Besides, it will bear you better if you distribute your weight and come on all fours."

"It's not safe even to do that," said Drew, sharply.

"As aforesaid," grumbled Wriggs.

"Oh, yes," said Oliver, smiling, "you can fasten the rope around you Alpine fashion, and I shall hold one end; the others will hold the second end, so that we shall all have you safely enough."

"All right," said Drew, shortly, and he made a loop, passed it over his head and shoulders, tightened it, and advanced.

"Now then, draw in the line."

This was done, and with Oliver sitting with his heels firmly against a projection of the rock, and hauling in foot by foot, and the others giving, Drew went down on hands and knees, gripped the sides of the ladder, and crawled across, the wood cracking a good deal, but not bending nearly so much.

"There," said Oliver, as Drew unfastened the rope, "now you can help me hold, and Panton can come over."

"I'm going to walk across," said Panton, firmly.

"No, you are not, man," cried Oliver; "you will crawl. We must run no risks to-day."

Panton grumbled, but obeyed, crawling across in safety after coming to a standstill in the middle and losing his nerve as he gazed down between the rounds.

Then Wriggs came, and Smith was left to run as much risk as Oliver, for he had only rope holders on the farther side, but he went across boldly enough and without hesitation, the rope being steadily gathered in, and when he was over he took a good grip of the ladder and drew it across as well.

"I beg your pardon, Lane," said Panton, in a voice that only his companion could hear. "It was only banter, but I ought to have known better."

"All right, old fellow," cried his companion. "There, say no more."

The sun was growing intensely hot now, as Smith shouldered the ladder, and they once more started up the slope, which rapidly grew steeper, so stiff indeed was the ascent that Oliver, who led, after trying the zigzag approach and finding it too difficult, bore away to the east, making the ascent more gradual, and as if the intention was to form a corkscrew-like path round the upper part of the mountain.

"We've done wrong," he said, after a couple of hours' struggle upwards, "we ought to have gone to the west, and then by this time we should have been in the shade instead of roasting here."

They had paused to have a bit of lunch and rest, for the heat was intense now, and the cracks or rifts in the mountain slope more frequent, but they were not half the width of that which had been just crossed, and as the party had grown more confident they took each in turn readily enough.

"We must make the best of it now," said Panton, "and I can't help thinking that we are doing right."

"Why?" asked Drew.

"It seems to me that it would be impossible to get up to the crater edge on account of these horrible hot gases which rise from the cracks. We had better aim at getting round to the other side, and looking out from there as high up as we can climb. We shall know then whether the place is an island. What do you say, Lane?"

"The same as you do. I've been thinking so for an hour. You see, the ashes get looser as we climb higher, and the mountain steeper. What looked easy enough from below proves to be difficult in the extreme, and if we go much higher I feel sure that we shall set loose a regular avalanche and begin sliding down altogether."

A quarter of an hour later they started off again somewhat refreshed, but suffering terribly from the volcanic heat radiating from the ashes as well as from that from the sun, but they pressed on steadily, rising higher and gradually getting round the north slope, though the farther they tramped over the yielding ashes, the more they were impressed by the fact that the mountain was ten times greater than they had imagined it from below.

At last, late on in the afternoon, Oliver stopped short.

"We must get back before dark," he said. "Those chasms have to be passed. What do you say, shall we go now?"

His proposal was agreed to at once, and they turned to have a good look round. Above them towered the truncated cone looking precisely as it did from the place where they had started that morning, and, while Oliver adjusted his glass, Panton took out a pocket-compass, and Drew, a watch-like aneroid barometer.

"I can see nothing but the barrier reef just as it was when we started. Where are we now?" said Oliver. "Nearly north-east, are we not? and sea, sea, sea, everywhere, nothing but sea in this direction."

"We are looking due north," said Panton, as the needle of his compass grew steady.

"What, have we after all got round to the other side?"

"Seems so."

"Then the place is an island."

"Unless it joins the mainland somewhere west," said Panton.

"As far as I can see there is no land north or west. If we are on the northern side now we must be able to see it at this height. How high are we, Drew?"

"Just over four thousand feet, and I should say the mountain goes up quite two thousand more, but it is very deceiving. Then we are upon an island?"

"Hurrah!" cried Panton.

"I don't see where the hurrah comes in," said Oliver, quietly, "but I'm glad that our journey has not been without some result."

"I should have liked to get to the top though," said Panton, looking upward wistfully.

"I say, you two," said Drew, "we were to give a good look round for the niggers."

"I've been doing so," said Oliver, whose eyes were still at his glass, "and there isn't a sign of a hut, boat, or savage. Nothing but a barrier reef shutting in a beautiful lagoon, and the cocoa-nut palms fringing its edge."

"What about the lower slopes?" asked Drew.

"Dense forest for the most part, cut through every here and there by what looks like old lava streams, which reach the lagoon, and form cliffs."

"Then this side of the island is better wooded than the other?"

"Evidently, and there are two little streams running down from the dark chaos of rock, that look to me different from the rest of the mountain. You have a look, Panton."

The latter took the glass and stood sweeping the mountain slope for some minutes, during which Smith and Wriggs sat down, and lit their pipes for a restful smoke.

"All plain enough, as far as I can judge, my lads. That dark part in the most wooded district is an old volcano, and this that we are on seems to be quite new and active. I should say this island has been quiescent for hundreds of years before it burst out into eruption, and sent up this great pile of rock and ashes. Now then, what next?"

"Back to the tent before we are overtaken by the darkness," said Drew.

"Can we do it?" said Oliver.

"We're going to try. Now, then, all down-hill over the soft ash, I daresay we shall be able to slide part of the way."

"No," cried Oliver, emphatically, "it must be fair walking. If we start a slide of ashes and cinders, how are we to stop when we come near one of the crevasses?"

"Or to avoid being buried?" said Drew, "Steady work is the thing."

He had hardly spoken these words when, as if resenting their presence, a roar like thunder came from the crater, and a huge cloud shot up into the clear sky, to curve over like a tree, and as they turned and fled once more, a rain of ashes commenced falling. The darkness of which they had had so terrible an experience, threatened to shut them in high up on that mountain slope, while at any moment in their retreat they were liable to come upon one of the openings that ran deep down into the volcano's fiery core.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

AN INTERESTING FAILURE.

One of the rifts was crossed in the dim twilight, another was avoided by making a circuit, and another by walking along its edge till it narrowed sufficiently for them to spring across, and after one of these bold leaps, Smith, who bore the ladder, said to Wriggs,—

"Feel 'sposed to take to a noo line o' life, messmate, if we ever gets back home?"

"Dunno. What sort?" growled Wriggs.

"Hacerybat and tumbler by appointment to her Majesty."

"What d'yer mean, Tommy?"

"Why, arter this practice we can do anything: balancing on poles, crawling desprit places on ladders, hanging from ropes, and standing over nothing with yer eyes shut. Feel a tug, Billy, when we jumped that last bit?"

"Tug? No. I on'y felt as if I was a bit a' iron, and there was a big loadstone down in the hole, trying to pull me in."

"Well, that's what I meant—a tug."

"Bah! there's only one kind o' tug—a steam tug, and there's none here for a man to feel."

"What, aren't there a tug-o'-war?"

"Not here, messmet. But I say, I don't stomach this here darkness. It's like being at work in the hold. Mind!"

"All right, I see it coming, mate," said Smith, as a great lump of cinder fell close to him. "Didn't touch me."

"Miss is as good as a mile, mate, eh? But don't it seem as if someone up above was heaving these stones at us because we are not wanted here."

"Come along, my lads!" cried Oliver, halting for them to hasten up. "Take my gun, Smith, and I'll carry the ladder for a bit."

"Not me, sir, begging your pardon. This here ladder's about the awkwardest and heaviest ladder as ever was for his size."

"Then let me rest you."

"No, sir. I've got used to it now. You couldn't carry it. Could he, Billy?"

"Not much, lad. We're all right, sir. You go on and show us the way. If you manage, we can."

"Better let me rest you, my lad."

"Thank-ye, no, sir, Billy and me lays it down in the dust now and then, and sits on the edge for a rest. We're doing pretty comfortable, and only wants to get down to the tent to tea."

"All right, then."

The darkness increased for a while, and they came dangerously near being struck by stones several times over, but escaped as if by a miracle. Then just as they were approaching one of the worst of the gaps, the cloud of smoke and ashes floated gradually away, they obtained a glimpse of the bright blue sky and were able to cross the crevice in safety, though conscious all the while that a great body of suffocating vapour was now rising from the depths below.

The rest of the descent to the great rift was made in the bright afternoon sunshine, every nerve being strained to get that passed before darkness fell, and as Wriggs, who came last this time, reached the edge where the others were hauling in the line they all set up a hearty cheer, and gathering up the rope, set off as if refreshed, for the dangers of the ascent were at an end.

"An hour will do it," cried Oliver. "Then a warm bath, a good meal, a night's rest, and we shall be all right."

"But we did not get to the top," said Panton.

"Well, what of that? We've found out that we are upon an island, and we have left something else to do another day, for we must get to the edge of the crater before we've done."

"And now what next?" said Drew, as they tramped on down the soft ash bed, after carefully mapping out their course to the hot-spring camp.

"Food and rest."

"No, no, I mean about our proceedings."

"Let Mr Rimmer construct a boat if he likes. It will keep him busy, and take I daresay a couple of years. During that time we can collect a cargo of specimens, and thank our stars that we have fallen in such good quarters."

In spite of marking down the trees and rocks where the hot springs lay, the natural darkness of night made their task by no means easy. Objects looked so different, and after they had reached the end of the ash slope, the inequalities of the surface were so great that they lost their way several times over, and at last it was decided to lie down and rest under the shelter of a huge tree, when Smith suddenly exclaimed,—

"Why, this here's where I got some of the firewood last night."

"Nonsense," said Panton pettishly.

"It was somewheres here as I broke a big branch off, one as was dead."

"If it were, you would find the stump," said Panton.

"Course I should, sir, and here it is," growled the man.

"What!" shouted Oliver. "Then the tent must be close by."

"Round at the back of a big mask o' rock, sir, as is the hardest and sharpest I ever broke my shins again. It ought to be just about where Billy Wriggs is a-lighting of his pipe."

"Want me, matey?"

"Yes. Look if there's a lot o' rock behind you."

"Ay, I am a-leaning again it."

"There you are, sir! I'll go on and light the fire and set the kettle to boil," said Smith, and ten minutes after there was a ruddy blaze lighting up the rocks and trees; a good tea meal followed, and forgetting all perils and dangers, the little party lay down to rest and enjoy the sound sleep that comes to the truly tired out.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

"POT FIRST."

The night passed peaceably enough, and though every now and then there was a violent hissing from close at hand, it was not noticed till just at daybreak, when Smith, who had grown brave and reckless with knowledge, drove his elbow into his messmate's ribs.

"All right," growled Wriggs, drowsily, "but t'arnt our watch, is it?"

"Watch? No, rouse up, my lad. Steam's up."

"Eh? What? Steam?"

Css, came loudly from a crevice in the rocks so suddenly and sharply, that the sailor sprang up in alarm.

"Oh," he grumbled, directly after, "it's them hot water works. I thought it was a snake."

"Who said snakes?" cried Drew, waking up.

"I did, sir, but it ain't. It's to-morrer morning, and we're getting up."

"I have raked the fire together, sir, and put the billy on to byle," said Smith,—"not meaning you, messmate."

"Time to get up?" cried Oliver, and he sprang to his feet. "Come on, Panton, who's for a bath?"

They all were, and coming back refreshed partook of a hearty meal which exhausted their supplies, all but the condiments they had provided, and necessitated an immediate return to the brig.

"Only it seems a pity," said Oliver, as the cries of birds could be heard in different directions, while butterflies of bright colours darted here and there, and the trees were hung with creepers whose racemes and clusters of blossoms gladdened Drew's eyes.

"Yes, it seems a pity," said Panton, taking out his little hammer and beginning to chip at a piece of rock.

"There is so little to be seen close to the brig," said Oliver thoughtfully, as he took out his handkerchief and began to polish a speck of rust from the barrel of his double gun.

"And I haven't collected half so much as I should like to have done," said Drew.

"Think Mr Rimmer would be very uneasy if we stayed here for the day and did a little collecting?"

"Not he," said Panton. "But what about prog?"

"I'll shoot three or four pigeons," suggested Oliver.

"Three or four, why, I could eat half a dozen for dinner."

"Think so?" said Oliver, smiling; "I doubt it."

"But I'm getting hungry again already, although I've just breakfasted. I say, though, surely we could shoot enough for our dinner. What do you say, Drew, shall we stop till evening and collect?"

"I'm willing."

"What do you say then, Lane?"

"By all means, this forest land at the bottom of the volcano slope is swarming with good things. We'll stay about here all the morning, and after dinner begin to work back to the boat. So long as we can reach it by the time it grows dark we shall be all right."

"Yes, there's no fear of making a mistake when once we get into the lagoon," said Panton. "I could find my way to the boat-house blindfold."

"Boat-house?" cried Drew.

"Well, the cocoa-nut grove," said Panton, laughing. "Then, of course, we can easily find our way to the brig. I say, I'm precious glad that we have seen no signs of the niggers. It would have been very awkward if we had found that they lived here."

"Instead of our having the island all to ourselves," said Drew.

"But this must once have been part of some mainland," Oliver remarked, thoughtfully. "Apes and leopards would hardly be found upon islands unless they have been cut off by some convulsion of nature."

"This must have been cut off by some convulsion of nature," said Panton quickly, and then, as he pointed upward toward the volcano, "and there's the convulser ready to do anything. There, come along, no more scientific discussions. Let's collect, but, first of all, we must think of the pot."

"Are we coming back here?" asked Drew.

"Decidedly," cried Lane. "We'll make this camp still. Make up the fire, Smith, and you two can come with us till we have shot enough for dinner and then come back here and do the cooking."

"Right, sir," replied Smith. "Come along, Billy."

The fire was well drawn together and replenished with fuel, and then, shouldering their guns, the party started; but upon Oliver Lane glancing back he called a halt.

"Here, Wriggs," he cried, "we don't want that ladder, nor those ropes, Smith."

"Don't yer, sir?"

"No, we are going along the edge of the forest. Take those things back."

The ladder and ropes were taken back and then a fresh start was made, the explorers keeping well to the edge of the forest for several reasons, the principal being that they could easily get out toward the barren slope of the mountain, and the travelling was so much easier as they formed a line and beat the undergrowth for specimens and game.

"Pot first, you know," said Panton, "science later on. Are we likely to get a deer of any kind, Lane?"

"No," said Drew decisively.

"Why not?" said Lane. "We have seen that there are leopards, and leopards must have something to live upon. I should say that we may find some small kind of deer."

"Leopards might live on the monkeys," said Panton.

"Perhaps so, but I'm prepared for anything in a place like this. What's that?"

"I can hear one of them steam engyne birds coming along, sir," said Wriggs, from behind.

"What birds?"

"One of them rooshy rashy ones, sir, as you called blow-horn-bills, and makes such a noise with their wings."

"Hornbills without the blow, my man," said Lane, laughing. "Look out, all of you. Hornbills are fruit-eating birds, and would be good roasted."

There was the sharp clicking of gun-locks as the rushing sound of big wings was heard four times over; but the birds passed to right or left to them, hidden by the trees, and all was silent again, till after a few hundred yards had been passed something got up in a dense thicket and went off through the forest at a tremendous rate.

"Lane, man, why didn't you fire?" cried Panton reproachfully.

"Because I have a habit of looking at what I shoot, and I never had a glimpse of this. Did you see it, Drew?"

"I? No."

"Please, sir, I just got one squint at it," said Smith. "You did, too, didn't you, Billy?"

"I sin it twice," said Wriggs. "It was a spotty sort o' thing, and it went through the bushes like a flash."

"It must have been a leopard, then," said Panton.

"No," said Oliver decisively, "not that made the loud crashing noise. One of those great cats would have glided away almost in silence. I fancy that it was some kind of deer. Keep on steadily and we may hunt up another."

But they tramped on for quite an hour, without any such good fortune, though had their aim solely been collecting specimens, their opportunities were great. For at every opening sun-birds flitted here and there, poising themselves before some blossom which they probed with their long curved bills, and sent forth flashes from their brilliant plumage like those from cut and polished gems. Every now and then too, thrush-like birds flew up from beneath the bushes—thrush-like in form but with plumage in which fawn or dove colour and celestial blues preponderated. Mynahs and barbets were in flocks: lories and paroquets abundant, and at last Lane stopped short and held up his hand, for from out of a patch of the forest where the trees towered up to an enormous height, and all beneath was dim and solemn-looking as some cathedral, there came a loud harsh cry, waark, waark, wok, wok, wok, and this was answered several times from a distance.

"Only some kind of crow," said Panton, "and we don't, as the American backwoodsman said, 'kinder hanker arter crow.'"

"Kind of crow? yes, of course," said Oliver impatiently. "That's the cry of the great bird of Paradise. Come along quietly, we must have some specimens of them."

"No, no," cried Panton. "If we fire at them good-bye to any chance of a deer. Steal up and have a look at them, we shall have plenty more chances."

Oliver was strongly tempted to fire, for just then a bird skimmed down from on high into the gloom beneath the trees, and they had a glimpse of the lovely creature, with its long, loose, yellowish plumage streaming out behind as if it were a sort of bird-comet dwelling amongst the trees. Then it was gone, and the young man consoled himself with the thought that had he fired the chances were great against his hitting, and it would have been like a crime to let the bird go off wounded and mutilated to a lingering death.

He thought this as they stood listening to the cries of the birds, harsh, powerful, and echoing as they rang out in all directions.

"Not the kind o' bird as I should choose for his singing, eh, Billy?" said Smith, suddenly breaking the silence of the gloomy spot.

"Well, no, Tommy, can't say as I should either for the sake o' the moosic, but there's a deal o' body in it."

"I wish we could get hold of something with some body in it that we should care to eat."

"There's a something upon that tree yonder, sir," said Smith, "one o' them little black boy chaps. See him, sir?"

"I can," whispered Drew. "It's quite a large monkey."

"He'd eat good, wouldn't he, sir?" said Wriggs.

"Yes, for cannibals," said Oliver, shortly, as he took out his double glass and focussed it upon a black face peering round a tall, smooth trunk, quite a hundred feet from the ground. "Look, there's another. But time's running on. Hadn't we better get back into a more open part and begin collecting?"

"If you wish me to die of starvation," said Panton. "I can't work without food."

"Then for goodness' sake let's get on," said Oliver, pettishly, and he hurried beneath the tree where the first monkey had been seen, and as he passed a good-sized piece of stick whizzed by his ear and struck the ground.

"See that, Billy?" said Smith.

"Ah, I see it."

"Lucky for that little nigger as they're a good-hearted Christian sort o' gentlemen. If they warn't he'd go home to his messmates peppered all over with shot, and feelin' like a sore currant dumpling."

Another half-hour was passed of what Oliver dubbed the most aggravating natures for beautiful specimens of bird, insect, flower, and mineral abounded, while the whole of their attention had to be devoted to providing food.

"I don't believe there are any deer to be had," he cried at last, and then he stopped short in the sunny grove, where they had halted to take a few minutes' rest. "What's that?"

"I was going to ask you," said Panton.

For the peculiar noise they had heard upon a former occasion came from a short distance away, deep-toned, soft, and musical, as if a tyro were practising one note upon a great brass instrument.

"Quick, come on," whispered Oliver, excitedly, and leading the way he signed to his companions to come on abreast, and in this form they went on cautiously in the direction of the sound, till Drew suddenly took a quick aim through an opening, and fired both barrels of the piece in rapid succession.

Instantly there was a tremendous beating of wings, and a little flock of half-a-dozen large, dark birds rose up, affording Oliver and Panton each a shot, with the result that a couple of the birds fell heavily.

Then the two men behind cheered, there was a rush forward through the thick growth, and four of the huge crowned pigeons were retrieved— lovely dark slate-coloured birds, which looked with their soft, loose plumage and beautiful crests, nearly double the size of ordinary farm-yard fowls.

"Now," cried Oliver, triumphantly, "back with you to the fire, and pluck and cook those. We will be with you in a couple of hours' time. But I say, Panton, you won't eat half-a-dozen?"

The two men seized a bird in each hand, grinning with delight, and started off for the edge of the wood at a run, but Smith stopped and turned.

"Byled or roast, sir?" he cried.

"Roast, of course," said Oliver. "You have nothing to boil them in."

"Byling spring, sir."

"Nonsense, man. Off with you. Now," he continued, as the two sailors disappeared, "specimens. A little way farther, and then turn back."



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

DANGER SIGNALS.

Oliver suffered from a sensation of disappointment during those next two hours, for he regretted not stripping the skins from the magnificent fruit pigeons, but, as his companions said, he had no cause to complain, for he secured specimens of two beautifully feathered birds of Paradise, of an exceedingly rare kind. In addition he had a couple of brilliant scarlet and green lories, and half-a-dozen sun-birds, while Drew's collecting box and pockets were full of specimens, and Panton perspired freely beneath his burden of crystals, vitrified rock, and pieces of quartz. Several of these contained specks of metal, and proved satisfactorily that in spite of volcanic eruption and the abundant coral, the nucleus of the land on which they stood was exceedingly ancient, and evidently a part of some continent now submerged.

Smith met them as they approached camp and announced dinner, and in spite of the absence of bread and vegetables, no meat was ever more enjoyed than the roast Goura pigeons, nor greater justice done to the viand.

"Now then for the brig," said Oliver, decisively. "We must not stop by the way, for the sun will soon be getting low. Mr Rimmer will be coming after us if we are not there in good time, and we've a long tramp yet to get to the shore."

"Collect as we go?" said Drew.

"Oh no, let's be content with what we have. I shall have enough to do to preserve mine."

"And I to arrange my little lot," said Panton. "Here, Smith, carry a few of these."

"Certeny, sir, but there's heaps of as good stones close to where the brig lies."

"Never mind that, I want these."

"All right, sir," said the man, cheerily, and with a bag of stones and the ropes, and with Wriggs at his side shouldering the ladder, the little party started back, discussing the results of their expedition, and the fact that though they had not climbed to the crater, they had half explored the great mountain. That, and the fact that there were no savages to be seen, they felt was news enough for the mate, while, as to themselves, they were all three more than satisfied with their finds.

The long tramp in the forest before dinner and the dinner itself made the journey back to the shore of the lagoon where they had left the boat seem doubly long, but they reached it at last, just as the west was one glory of amber and gold, and the globular cloud high up over the crater appeared of a rosy scarlet. The long fringe of cocoa palms, too, seemed as if their great pinnate leaves had been cut out of orange metal, and reflected as they were in the glassy water of the lagoon, a scene of loveliness met the travellers' eyes that made them soon forget their weariness, and set to with a will to drag the boat over the sand, and then launch it in the mirror-like sea.

"Now for a gentle pull back," said Oliver. "Shall we do it before dark?"

"No; and there is no moon."

"Never mind, we can easily run the boat in among the trees, and avoid the coral blocks and the pools as we walk to the brig. Crocs are pretty active of a night, so let's give them a wide berth."

"Yes, we must," said Panton, "for I daresay they'll be getting hungry as they finish all the fish left in their larder."

"If it had not been for those reptiles in the pools they would have been getting offensive by now."

"And when they have cleared them out, you think the crocs will journey down to the sea?"

"I haven't a doubt of it," replied Panton.

"Then I hope they will not have begun their journey to-night, for I'm too tired to care about meeting enemies."

Their row along the narrow lagoon was glorious with the cocoa-nut grove on one side and the reef with its tumbling billows and subdued roar on the other. Then, as the sun set, the long mirror they traversed and the backs of the curling over breakers were dyed with the most refulgent colours, which grew pale only too soon. When the darkness closed in, the croaking of reptiles and night birds rose from beyond the grove, and the breakers grew phosphorescent and as if illumined by a pale fire tinged with a softened green, while the foam resembled golden spray as it was dashed over the coral sand.

The sailors were relieved from time to time as they rowed on with the stars spangling the still water, so that in the distance it was hard to tell where sea ended and sky began; and at last, dimly seen against the sky, three tall trees marked the spot where they ran up the boat.

"Sure this is right?" asked Oliver, as the sharp prow touched the soft, white sand.

"Oh, yes, sir, this is right enough," replied Smith. "Here's our marks that we made this morning when we ran her down."

There was the faintly marked furrow, sure enough, and, all taking hold of the sides, the boat was run up easily enough over the soft, loose sand and then in amongst the smooth, round, curved trunks of the cocoa-nut trees till her old quarters were reached, and the painter secured to a stout stem.

"No fear of tide or wind affecting her," said Oliver; "but how dark it is under these trees. Look here, Smith, I don't think you men need carry that ladder on to-night. Leave it here. It will be ready for next time we try the ascent."

"All right, sir," replied Smith.

"I don't know, though; perhaps it will be as well to bring it along. We'll help you if you get tired."

"I sha'n't get tired o' carrying a thing like that, sir," said the man, with a laugh. Then he shouldered it at once and the start was made for the brig.

They reckoned upon it taking a good hour in the darkness, what with the care they would have to exercise to avoid half-dried pools, scattered fragments of coral rock, and the many heaps of snag-like trees half buried in sand and mud, but when as near as they could guess an hour had passed they were still some distance from the brig and suffering from a feeling of weariness which made them all trudge along slowly and silently in single file.

Oliver was leading with his gun over his shoulder, the piece feeling heavier than it had ever felt before and as if it was increasing in weight each minute.

Smith was behind him with the ropes over his shoulder, and Wriggs now bore the ladder, coming last.

For some minutes they had been walking in utter silence, their footsteps deadened by the soft sand, and a terribly drowsy feeling was coming over Lane, making him long to lie down and sleep, but he fought it back and strained his eyes to gaze forward in search of obstacles, knowing as he did that the others were trusting him to pick out the best road and keep them out of difficulties.

But it was very dark in spite of the stars, and hard to make anything out till, all at once, he saw a misty and strange-looking form run by, about twenty yards ahead.

"What's that?" he said to himself, and then he started, for Smith caught his arm, and whispered,—

"Mr Lane, sir? See that?"

"Yes, what was it? Was it a deer?" and he involuntarily lowered his piece.

"Two legged 'un, sir, if it was," said the man, softly. "Will you call a halt? I think it was a hinjun."

"Nonsense. One of our men, perhaps," said Oliver, testily. "Don't say that and scare them. We're close up to the ship now."

Bang.

The sharp report of a piece came from about a couple of hundred yards farther on.

"There; I knew we were close up to the brig. Mr Rimmer fired that as a signal to let us know the way in the darkness. I'll fire him one back."

The lock clicked and Oliver raised the muzzle to fire, when a ragged volley came from ahead, followed by a savage yelling, and as the sounds struck a chill to every heart there was utter silence. Then came a flash and a bright gleam, which grew brighter and brighter, developing into the sickly glare of a blue light, while as they stood there, fearing to advance, all grasped the meaning of the light.

The brig had been attacked by the Indians. A gallant defence was being made, and the blue light had been thrown out to show where the enemy lay.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

AN AWKWARD SCRAPE.

The first impulse of Oliver Lane was to drop down flat upon the sun-baked sand and earth, so as to protect himself from being seen in the glare of the blue light. His example was followed by the others, whose thoughts reverted also to the possibility of a bullet intended for the enemy, hitting a friend.

And there they lay listening after the dying out of the yells, and watching the glare from the blue light as it lit up the surroundings of the brig, and then sank lower and lower till all was darkness as well as silence.

Judging from what they heard, Mr Rimmer and his men were safe enough so far, and had been aware of the Indians' attack. But what was to come next?

The watchers asked themselves this question as they lay close together listening for the slightest sound, waiting for a solution of the little problem which had so much to do with their future: Had the enemy seen them when the light was burning?

Long-drawn-out minutes passed as they waited in the darkness, now hopeful, now despondent, for Oliver felt a touch on his arm simultaneously with a soft, rustling sound, and the pat, pat of naked feet going over the sand.

The message of danger was silently telegraphed by a touch to the others, and every weapon was grasped, those who had guns slightly raising the muzzles, while Smith took out his jack-knife to open it with his teeth, and Wriggs, to use his own words—afterwards spoken—"stood by" with the ladder, meaning to use it as a battering-ram to drive it at any enemy who approached.

But the sound passed over to their right, and all was silent again.

"Hadn't we better creep up to the ship?" whispered Oliver.

"And be shot for enemies?" replied Panton, in the same tone.

"They haven't seen us, so we had better wait till morning."

"And then make ourselves marks for spears and arrows."

"Better than for bullets. I'd rather a savage mop-headed Papuan shot me, than Mr Rimmer did."

"Hist! Silence!" whispered Drew, who had crept closer. "Enemy."

He was right, for footsteps were heard again, coming from the direction of the brig, and it seemed like a second party following the first, till it occurred to Panton that this might be the same party returning from passing right round the vessel.

But they had no means of knowing, and a few minutes later they all lay there asking themselves whether they would not have acted more wisely if they had fired a volley into the enemy when they first came up, and followed up the confusion the shots would have caused by rushing to the brig.

"They would not have taken us for the enemy then," said Drew.

But the opportunity had gone by, and to add to their discomfort, a low, murmuring sound indicated that the savages had come to a halt between them and their friends.

For a good hour the party waited in the hope that the enemy would move away, but it soon became evident that they had settled down for a permanent halt, and the murmur of voices came so clearly to the ear that all felt the danger of attempting to speak, lest they should bring the enemy upon them.

Somehow, in spite of his being the youngest, Drew and Panton fell into the habit of letting Oliver Lane take the post of leader, and when after a long and wearisome period of waiting he whispered his ideas, they were accepted at once, as being the most sensible under the circumstances.

Oliver's plan was this: to gradually creep back from the position they occupied, until they felt that they were out of hearing, and then to bear off to their left, and gradually get round to the other side of the brig, which would thus be placed between them and the enemy.

The greatest caution was necessary in the presence of so wary a foe, and it was not until this had been duly impressed upon the two sailors that Oliver began the retrograde movement so slowly and softly that his companions could hardly realise the fact that he had started.

Panton followed, then Smith and Wriggs, and Drew brought up the rear.

They had all risen and followed one another in Indian file, almost without a sound. But the murmuring that was made by the Papuans came softly through the darkness, as if the savages were engaged in a debate upon the subject of how they had better make their next attack.

Then all at once there was a sharp crack, for Oliver had stepped upon a large, thin shell, which broke up with a fine ear-piercing sound, that must have penetrated for a long distance.

That it had reached the spot where the Papuans were was evident, for the murmuring of voices ceased on the instant.

"Down. Lie down," whispered Oliver. "They will come to see what the noise was."

They lay down upon the soft sand, listening with every nerve upon the strain, but not for long. Before many seconds had passed, there was a peculiar soft, rattling sound such as would be made by a bundle of reed arrows, secure at one end and loose at the other. This noise came nearer, and then at a little distance, as they held their breath, it seemed as if a shadow passed by, and then another, and another.

Oliver's hand which held his gun trembled, not from fear, but from the nervous strain, and the knowledge that at any moment he might, for the first time in his life, be compelled in self-defence, and for the protection of his companions, to fire upon a party of savages, and so shed the blood of a human being.

He stretched out his left hand as the third shadowy figure went lightly by, and touched Panton's arm, to have the extended hand caught and pressed warmly.

This was encouraging, and told of a trusty friend ready to help. Then they lay there upon their breasts for some minutes, gazing in the direction taken by the enemy, while the impressive silence continued. At last came a quick, sharp pressure of the hand, which seemed to imply—Look out! Here they come.

For at that moment, the quick, soft beat of feet came again, and three shadowy figures passed so close to them that it seemed impossible for them to remain unseen, but their clothes assimilated so with the sun-burned sand and earth that the enemy passed on, and in a minute or two the murmuring of voices arose once more.

"Come on," whispered Oliver, and he rose quickly, while the word was passed to the others, and they recommenced their retreat, taking every step cautiously.

It was not an easy task, for there was no judging distances by any object, and hence Oliver had to walk straight away into the darkness, till he guessed that he was far enough distant. Then he began to veer round to his right, and he had hardly done this, when from somewhere behind came a sharp sound, best expressed by the word Thung! accompanied by a sharp whizz.

No one needed any telling what had produced that noise, for it was evident that one of the Papuans had hung back to keep watch, and hearing if not seeing, he had sent an arrow in the direction by which the party was retreating.

Oliver halted for a few moments with the thought in his mind which took the form "poisoned," and he listened for some exclamation from one or other of his companions indicating pain, or the sound of a fall. But all was still. The others had given up to him as leader, and when he stopped they halted, and when he moved on again they followed, in full expectation of another arrow whizzing by.

But none came, and increasing his speed now and trying as well as he could to move in a curve large enough to carry him round to the other side of the brig, Oliver pressed on.

"Oh, if only they would burn another blue light," he muttered, as striving to pierce the darkness ahead, and with his gun across his breast ready for instant action, he went on and on, with all kinds of curious thoughts occurring to him as his pulses beat heavily, and even his brain seemed to throb. Stories he had read and heard of people who were lost moving in a circle and getting back to the place from which they had started troubled him, others of people wandering about in the dark and going over the same ground, and of others walking right into the very spot they sought to avoid. These and similar thoughts made him break out into a cold perspiration, and wish that Panton had taken the lead.

But all the time he was steadily walking on in the direction he believed to be correct, till he felt at last that he must be level with the brig, then passing it, and again that he must be well on his way now, and that it was time to turn more sharply round and get up to the other side of the vessel. Then—Splash!

He drew back with a chill of dread running through his frame, for he had reached the edge of a pool, and there was no water within half a mile of the spot where the brig lay.

"What is it—water?" whispered Panton.

"Yes, I have come wrong."

"No, you haven't, only kept straight on instead of bearing more to your right."

"But I thought I was bearing well to the right," whispered Oliver.

"So did I—too much, but you see you were not. This is the half-dried-up pool, where there are three crocos. I saw them the other day."

"It can't be."

Splash, splash, splash, splash!

Four heavy blows given to the surface of the water by the tail of a great reptile, for the purpose of stunning any fish there might be close at hand.

"Yes; you're right," said Oliver. "Then we ought to bear away to the right now?"

"That's it. Go on."

Fortunately the ground was open now, and there was nothing to dread but the scattered blocks of coral which it was too dark to see, but Oliver stepped out boldly, chancing a fall over any of these obstacles, and for the next ten minutes or so he made pretty good progress, and felt sure that he was going right, for he every now and then stepped short with his right foot.

"I must be near the brig now," he said to himself, and after gradually slackening his pace he stopped short and listened, in the hope of hearing some sound on board the vessel, and to his great joy there was a whispering not far away. Reaching out his hand, he touched Panton, and then placing his lips to his companion's ear he said,—

"Can you hear that?"

"Yes, some one talking."

"Well, I make it out to be on the brig. What are we to do next?"

"Creep a little nearer, and then wait for morning. If we go too close, the next thing will be a shot in our direction."

"Hark!"

"What is it?"

"Listen. Isn't this peculiar?"

Panton was silent there in the darkness for a few minutes, and then with his lips to Oliver's ear,—

"I say," he said, "isn't this rather queer?"

"What? I don't understand you."

"If that's people on the brig she's coming nearer to us; I thought at first that the wind might be bringing the sound, but it isn't. The sound's coming closer."

"Mr Rimmer is down, then, patrolling round with some of his men. Be careful, or they may shoot."

"Not he. Mr Rimmer wouldn't leave his wooden fort in the darkness. Listen."

"Yes, you're right. Whoever it is, is coming this way."

"It's the enemy, then, and we must retreat again."

"But which way? What are we to do? We must be near the brig at daybreak, so that as soon as it is light we may make a rush for it."

"We ought to be, but we mustn't be within sight of Mr Papuan at daybreak; for, so near as we are, we shall have some of his arrows quivering in us. I don't know that I am very much afraid of a wound as a rule, but I am awfully scared about having a poisoned arrow in me. I don't want to die of locked jaw."

"Hist. Back," whispered Oliver. "We must go somewhere, for they're coming on, and it sounds like a good number of them."

Talking was quite plain now, and those who spoke were evidently full of confidence, for one man spoke in a loud voice, and a chorus of agreement or dissent arose, otherwise the enemy must have heard the whispering of the little party, which now retreated steadily, but with the result that Oliver grew confused, for he felt that he had entirely lost all sense of direction, and letting Panton come up abreast he told him so.

"Don't matter," said the latter. "You've evidently been going all wrong, and no wonder. Nature never meant us to play rats and owls. But I daresay we shall get right after all. I wish there were some trees so that we could shelter under them, and—"

"But there is nothing for a long distance but those barren rocks a quarter of a mile from the brig's bows. If we could reach them."

"Yes, where do you think they are?"

"I can't think. I don't know, only that they must be somewhere."

"Yes, that's exactly where they are," said Panton, with a little laugh. "Somewhere, unless the earth has swallowed them up, but where that somewhere is I don't know, nor you either, so we're lost in the dark."

"Hush, not so loud, the daylight cannot be very far-off now."

"What? Hours. I don't believe it's midnight yet."

"There, I told you so," whispered Oliver, a few minutes later, "there's the dawn coming and the sunrise."

"Nonsense, it's the moon; but look here, oughtn't we to be facing the east now."

"Yes, according to my calculations," replied Oliver.

"Your calculating tackle wants regulating, for so sure as that's the moon rising over yonder we've been working along due west."

"Tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated Oliver, as he gazed round at the faint light on the horizon, "and I did try so hard. But that must be the dawn."

"Then it has got a good, hard, firm, silvery rim to it. Look! That's uncommonly like the moon, isn't it?"

Panton pointed to where the edge of the pale orb came slowly above the horizon, looking big, and of a soft yellowish tarnished silver hue.

"Yes, it's the moon sure enough," said Oliver. "I'm all wrong. We shall be able to make out where the brig is, though, when it gets a little higher."

"And the niggers will be able to make out where we are, and skewer us all with arrows, if we don't look out. Hadn't we better all lie down?"

"No, no, let's aim at getting back on board. We shall be stronger there, and it will be a relief to Mr Rimmer to have us all back again safely. Better wait. I can't hear the enemy now, and in a few minutes we may be able to see the brig. What do you say, Drew?"

"All right."



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

IN A FOG.

"Look-ye here, old mate," growled Wriggs to his companion, "I'm getting jolly well sick o' this here job."

"Why, yer ungrateful beggar, what are you grumbling about now? You had too much o' them joosety pigeons, and it's been too strong for you."

"'Tarn't that," growled Wriggs, in a hoarse whisper. "It's this here ladder."

"What's the matter with the ladder, mate? Seemed to me to be a nice light strong 'un when I carried it."

"Oh, yes, it's strong enough, messmate, but it makes me feel like a fool, Tommy."

"Why so, Billy?"

"'Cause I'm having to go cutting about here like a lamp-lighter as has lost his lantern, and ain't got no lamposties near. Blow the old ladder! I'm sick on it."

"Give us hold, and you take these ropes," said Smith, "I never see such a fellow for grumbling as you are, Billy. You'd only got to say as you was tired, and I'd ha' took it at once."

Wriggs chewed and spat on the ground, but he made no other movement.

"Well, are yer going to ketch hold o' these here ropes?"

"No, I aren't going to ketch hold o' no ropes. Cause why? It's my spell with the ladder, and I'm a-going to carry the ladder till it's time to give it up."

"Well, you are a horbstnit one, Billy, and no mistake."

"Look-ye here, are you going to keep your mouth shut? 'Cause if you're not, I'm a-going to get furder away afore the Injuns begins to shoot. I don't want no pysoned arrows sticking into me."

"Course you don't, mate. Look-ye here, if I was you I'd stand that there ladder straight up, and then go aloft and sit on the top rung. You could rest yourself, and be a deal safer up there."

"Chaff!" growled Wriggs. "Chaff! Better hold your tongue, Tommy, if yer can't talk sense. What does young Mr Oliver say—Forrard again?"

"Yes."

"Oh, all right, then, I don't mind. I'll go off 'lone with the ladder if he likes. Where's the Injuns now?"

"Dunno. But they ain't Injuns, Billy; they're savygees, that's what they are."

"Why, I heered Mr Oliver call 'em pap you hans. But there, I don't care. Call 'em what you like, so long as I can get rid o' this ladder and rest my soldier."

"Then why don't you put it over your other soldier, Billy, or else let me carry it?"

"'Cause I shan't, Tommy, so there you have it, sharp."

"You men will be heard by the Papuans if there are any lurking about," whispered Oliver just then. "Silence, and keep close behind us."

As the moon rose higher it was not to shine out bright and clear, for there was a thin haze floating over the sea, and consequently, as the softened silvery light flooded the wave-swept plain, every object looked distorted and mysterious. Tree-trunks, where they lay together, seemed huge masses of coral rock, swollen and strange, and the hollows scooped out by the earthquake wave appeared to be full of a luminous haze that the eye could not penetrate, and suggested the possibility of enemies being in hiding, waiting to take aim with some deadly weapon, as soon as the light grew plain enough for the returning party to be seen.

But out in the open, as far as they could make out, no lurking savages were visible, and as the light spread more and more, unless hidden by some shadowy hollow, there was no danger close at hand.

This was satisfactory and encouraging, the more so that though they all listened with every nerve on the strain, there was now not a sound to betray the enemy's whereabouts.

On the other hand, in spite of the light growing stronger, there was no sign of the brig, and, worse still, everything looked so distorted and hazy, not one familiar object to enable them to judge of their position.

"It's just like looking through a big magnifying glass," whispered Oliver, "at the point when everything is upside down and distorted from being out of focus."

"Perhaps so," said Drew, "but we're not looking through a magnifying glass."

"I wonder that you, a man who is always using a microscope, should talk like that," replied Oliver. "We are not looking through a glass, certainly, but we are piercing a dull transparent medium, caused by water in the form of mist floating in the air. I don't want to be conceited, but my idea was quite right."

"Quite," said Panton, "only this is not a good time for studying optics. What we want is knowledge that shall bring us to the brig without being shot at by our friends."

"Hear that, Tommy," whispered Wriggs. "We're going to be shot at now in front by Muster Rimmer and the others, while the savages shoots at us behind."

"Well, if we can't help it, Billy, what's the use o' grumbling?" returned his mate.

"'Cause I've got this here ladder. What's the good of a ladder when you're being shot at?"

"None as I sees, Billy."

"'Course not. Now, if it had been a good stout plank, there'd be some sense in it."

"What, you'd shove it behind yer when the niggers was shooting harrers?" said Smith, thoughtfully.

"O' course."

"And afore yer when Muster Rimmer was lettin' go with his revolver or a gun."

"Right you are, mate. That's it."

"Might keep off a harrer," said Smith, thoughtfully, "but bullets would go through it like they would through a bar o' soap."

"Yah, that's where you allers haggravates me, Tommy. I knows you're cleverer than I am, but sometimes you do talk so soft."

"What d'yer mean?"

"I mean what's the good o' you hargying whether a bullet would go through a thick plank or whether it wouldn't, when it's on'y a split pole and so many wooden spells. Don't you see it ain't a board but on'y a ladder; and I'm sick on it, that I am."

"Then let me carry it."

"Sharn't!"

"Will you two men be quiet?" said Oliver in a sharp whisper. "Do you want to betray our whereabouts to the enemy?"

"It aren't me, sir, it's Tommy Smith keeps a-haggrywating like."

"I aren't, sir! it's Billy Wriggs a-going on about that ladder as he's got to carry."

"Well, it is a nuisance to be carrying a thing like that about all night. Lay it down, man. I daresay we can find it again in the morning. Now follow us on quietly."

Oliver joined his companions, and the two sailors were left a little way behind.

"Now, then! d'yer hear?" whispered Smith. "He telled yer to chuck that there ladder down."

"I don't care what he telled me, Tommy. He aren't my orficer. I was to carry that there ladder, and I'm a-goin' to carry that there ladder till my watch is up."

"Yah! yer orbsnit wooden-headed old chock."

"Dessay I am, Tommy, but dooty's dooty, and ship's stores is ship's stores. I've got to do my dooty, and I aren't going to chuck away the ship's stores. That sort o' thing may do for natralists, but it don't come nat'ral to a sailor."

"You won't be better till you've had a snooze, Billy. Your temper's downright nasty, my lad. I say, what's that?"

"Which? What? Wheer?"

"Yonder, something fuzzy-like coming along yonder."

"Niggers," whispered back Wriggs. "You can see their heads with the hair standing out like a mop. But say, Tommy, what's that up yonder again the sky?"

"Nothin' as I knows on."

"Not there, stoopid: yonder. If that there ain't the wane on the top of our mast sticking up out of a hindful o' fog, I'm a Dutchman."

"Talking again?" said Oliver, angrily.

"Yes, sir, look!" whispered Smith. "Yonder's the brig."

"Can't be that way, my man."

"But it is, sir, just under that bit o' fog. See the little weather-cock thing on the mast?"

"Of course! Bravo! Found."

"Yes, sir, and something else, too," growled Wriggs. "Look yonder behind yer. Niggers—a whole ship's crew on 'em and they're coming arter us—there under the moon."

"Yes," said Oliver sharply. "Now, then, for the brig. Sharp's the word."

"Where is it?" asked Panton excitedly, as he too caught sight of the undefined hazy figures of the Papuans beneath the moon.

"There in that patch of fog: the top mast shows above it. Altogether: run."

They set off at full speed, nerved by a yell from the savages, when, all at once, the thin mist which had hidden the ship was cut in half a dozen places by flashes of light. The dull reports of as many rifles smote their ears, and as Oliver uttered a sharp cry, Wriggs went down with a rush, carrying with him the ladder, which fell crosswise and tripped up Panton and Smith, who both came with a crash to the ground.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

THE VALUE OF A LADDER.

A yell of triumph rose from the savages, and they stopped short to send a little flight of arrows at the knot of men struggling to their feet— no easy task, for Panton's right leg had gone between two of the rounds, and as he strove to get up he jerked the implement, and upset Smith again.

"Don't—don't fire," cried Drew, who rushed forward, and none to soon; for the clicking of locks came out of the thin mist. "Friends! friends!"

A cheer rose at this; but it was answered by another yell, and the savages came on now at a run.

"Hurt, Lane, old chap?"

"Don't talk: forward, all of you."

Somehow or another the little party, hurt and unhurt, rose to their feet, and ran hard for the brig, fortunately only a short distance away, but their speed did not equal that of the arrows winged after them, and one of the deadly missiles struck Panton in the shoulder, making him utter an angry ejaculation, stop, turn, and discharge both barrels of his gun at the advancing enemy.

"Don't; don't stop to do that," groaned Oliver. "To the brig, man—to the brig."

He spoke in great pain, but the two shots had their effect, for they checked the advancing enemy for a few moments, and gave the flying party time to struggle to the side of the brig, but utterly worn out and exhausted. Then a terrible feeling of despair came over them as they looked up and saw that if the savages came on their case was hopeless, for the gangway was fastened up and sails had been rigged up along the bulwarks as a protection against an attacking foe, while to open out and let down steps would have taken many valuable minutes, and given the enemy time to seize or slay.

"Quick, my lads, throw them ropes. Hold on below, there; we'll soon haul you up."

Oliver saw that long before they could be dragged up it would be all over with them, and he placed his back to the vessel's side, meaning to sell his life as dearly as he could, while the others followed his example, feeling completely shut out from the help they had sought.

"Fire over our heads, sir," cried Drew, "we must not wait for ropes."

"Yes. Guns, all of you," cried Mr Rimmer, as the savages came on in the moonlight, winging arrow after arrow, which stuck in the ship's side again and again.

"Hooray for Billy Wriggs!" yelled Smith just then, as his comrade came panting up last.

"Here y'are gents," cried Wriggs, and with steady hands he planted the ladder he had been so long abusing right up against the side. "Now, then, up with yer, Mr Oliver Lane, sir."

"No, no; up, Drew."

"Quick: don't shilly-shally," roared Mr Rimmer. "Now, boys, fire!"

A ragged volley came from overhead as Drew ran up the ladder, and then leaned down to hold out his hand to Panton, who went up more slowly, with an arrow sticking in his shoulder.

"Now, Smith," cried Oliver.

"No, sir. Orficers first," was the reply.

"Confound you, you'll be too late!" roared Mr Rimmer, and Smith sprang up as the savages came on with a rush, and, literally driven by Wriggs to follow, Oliver went up next, while Wriggs followed him so closely that he touched and helped him all the while, the ladder quivering and bending and threatening to give way beneath their weight.

The next moment the mate's strong hands had seized Oliver's sides and pitched him over the sail cloth to the deck, while, as Wriggs got hold of a rope and swung himself in, the ladder was seized and dragged away as a trophy taken from the enemy, the savages yelling wildly, and then increasing their rate of retreat, as a fresh volley was sent after them.

"Oh, murder, look at that!" yelled Wriggs, excitedly, as he climbed up and looked over at the retreating foe.

"Tommy, old lad, see here. The beggars! Arter my troubles too, all the night: they've carried off my ladder, after all."

The moon was now high above the mist, and bathed the deck with the soft light, veining it at the same time with the black shadows of stay, spar, yard, and running rigging.

"Don't fire, lads," cried Mr Rimmer. "We mustn't waste a shot. Wait till they come on again. Now, gentlemen, thank God you're all back safe again. Eh? Not safe? Don't say anyone's hurt."

"Yes, Lane's hurt, and Panton."

"So's Billy Wriggs, sir," said Smith.

"Course I am, mate, so would you be if you'd slipped your foot between the ratlines of an ugly old ladder, and broke your ankle."

"Why, I did, Billy, right up to the crutch, and snapped my thigh-bone in half," growled Smith.

"I'll see to you as soon as I can. Here, two of you carry Mr Lane down into the cabin."

"No, Mr Panton first," said Oliver. "He's worst."

"Don't stand on ceremony, gentlemen," cried the mate, angrily. "Mr Drew, are you all right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then take command here. You have your gun, keep a sharp look-out, and no mercy now, down with the first of the treacherous dogs who comes near."

"Right. I'm ready," said Drew; "but pray see to my friends."

Oliver was already on his way to the cabin hatch.

"You trust me for that, sir," said the mate. "Steady there. Ah! An arrow! Here, quick; down with Mr Panton."

The men who had lifted him from the deck, panting with fear and horror, were quick enough in their actions, and the two young men were soon lying one on each side of the cabin floor.

"You shall be attended to directly, Mr Lane," said the mate, hurriedly. "You're not bleeding much. Here, Smith, hold this cloth tightly against Mr Lane's arm."

He hurried to Panton's side, and turned him more over upon his face, showing the broken shaft of an arrow sticking through the cloth of the young man's jacket. Then quickly taking out his knife, he did not hesitate for a moment, but ordering Wriggs to hold the cabin lamp so as to cast its light upon the broken arrow, he inserted his knife, and ripped the light Norfolk jacket right up to the collar, and across the injured place, so that he could throw it open, and then serving the thin flannel shirt the young man wore in the same way, the wound was at once laid bare, and the extent of the injury seen.

"Can't ha' gone into his heart, sir," said Wriggs, respectfully. "'Cause it's pinting uppards."

"Yes," said Mr Rimmer, "imbedded in the muscles of his shoulder. Poor fellow, best done while he's fainting."

It was rough surgery, but right. Taking hold of the broken arrow shaft, of which about three inches stood up from the wound, which was just marked by a few drops of blood, Mr Rimmer found that it was held firmly, and resisted all efforts to dislodge it without violence, so judging that the head was barbed, and that tearing would be dangerous, he at once made a bold cut down into the flesh, parallel with the flat of the arrow head, and then pressing it gently up and down, he drew the missile forth. He followed this up by carefully washing out the wound with clean water, and finally, before bandaging, poured in some ammonia.

Just as he gave the final touches to the bandage, Panton came to, and looked wildly round, his eyes resting at last upon the mate's.

"You have taken out the arrow?" he asked.

"Yes, and made a good job of you, sir," said the mate, cheerily. "I didn't think I was such a surgeon."

Panton grasped his arm, and whispered hoarsely,—

"Tell me the truth. That was a poisoned arrow, was it not?"

"How should I know?" said the mate, roughly. "It was an arrow; I've taken it out, bathed the wound, and what you have to do, is to lie still, and not worry yourself into a fever by fancying all kinds of horrors."

"But these men poison their arrows, do they not?"

"People say so," said the mate, bluffly, "but it doesn't follow that they do. Now, then, I've got to attend to Mr Lane. You've had your turn."

He bent down over Oliver, and began to remove the bandage which Smith had passed round the upper part of the young man's left arm.

"Thank goodness it isn't in the body," said the mate. "I thought it was at first."

"No, sir," said Smith. "He was all wet about his chest, and I thought he'd got it somewhere there, but it's a nice, neat hole right through his arm, and here's the bullet which tumbled out of the sleeve of his jacket."

He handed the little piece of lead to the mate, who took it quickly, held it to the lamp and then drawing his breath sharply between his teeth, he slipped the bullet into his pocket before slitting up Oliver's sleeve, and examining a couple of ruddy orifices in the upper part of his arm.

"Hurt you much, sir?" he said, cheerfully.

"Hurt?" cried Oliver, angrily. "Why, it throbs and stings horribly."

"So I s'pose. But you mustn't think that this is poisoned. No fear of that."

"I did not think so," said Oliver, shortly. "I wish I knew who it was that fired at me."

"Well," said the mate, drily, as he bathed the two wounds where the bullet had entered and passed out right through the thickest part of the arm, carefully using fresh water and sponge, "I don't think that would help the places to heal."

"No—ah! you hurt! Mr Rimmer, what are you doing?"

"I was trying to find out whether the bone was injured."

"Is it broken?" said Oliver, who was wincing with pain.

"No, the bullet never touched it, sir. There's only a nice clean tunnel through your flesh to heal up."

"Nice clean tunnel, indeed!" said Oliver, whose deadly faintness was giving way to irritability, caused by the sharp pain. "I only, as I said before, wish I knew who shot me. How could a man be so stupid?"

"Well, I'll tell you," said the mate, as he softly dried the wounds. "If people come rushing out of a fog in company with a lot of yelling savages, they can't expect other people to know the difference. The fact is, my lad, I fired that shot, for it was a bullet out of the captain's gun."

"You, Mr Rimmer!"

"Yes, my lad, and I'm very thankful."

"What, that you shot me?"

"Yes, through the arm instead of through the chest, for I couldn't have doctored you then."

"I say! Oh! What are you doing?" cried Oliver.

"That's right, have a rousing shout if it will do you good, my lad," said the mate, whose fingers were busy. "But that's right, don't shrink," he continued as he went on with his task, which was that of plugging the two mouths of the wound with lint—

"Hallo! What is it?"

A sailor's head had appeared inside the cabin door.

"Mr Drew says, sir, as the savages are coming back, and would you like to come on deck?"

"Yes, of course," said the mate hastily. "Go and tell him I'm coming."

"Yes, sir."

The man disappeared, and the mate turned to Smith.

"Here," he said, "carefully and tightly bind up Mr Lane's arm, so that the plugs cannot come out."

"Me, sir? Don't you want me to come and fight?"

"I want you to obey orders," said the mate, sharply. "There, you will not hurt, Mr Lane; and as for you, Mr Panton, don't let imagination get the better of you, sir. I'll come down again as soon as I can."

"You won't hurt, sir," said Smith, with rough sympathy, as he took up the bandage and examined the injured arm by the light of the lamp. "But he can. All very fine for him to say that, after ramming in a couple o' pellets just as if he was loading an elder-wood pop-gun. Look here, sir, shall I take 'em out again?"

"No, no," said Oliver, trying hard to bear the acute pain he suffered, patiently.

"But they must hurt you 'orrid, and he won't know when the bandage is on."

"Tie up my arm, man," said Oliver, shortly. "It is quite right. That's better—Tighter.—No, no, I can't bear it. Yes: that will do. How are you getting on, Panton?"

"Badly. Feel as if someone was boring a hole in my shoulder with a red hot poker."

"So do I," said Oliver; "and as if he had got quite through, and was leaving the poker in to burn the hole bigger."

"Serve you right."

"Why?"

"You were always torturing some poor creature, sticking pins through it to 'set it up' as you call it."

"But not alive. I always poisoned them first."

"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?"