It was a depressing time, for as the hours passed on, the rain never ceased for a moment, but kept on in a regular tropic deluge; while, in spite of food and stimulants, exhaustion and suffering from their wounds told more and more, till one by one the men gave up, and the boat at last drifted with the swift current into which they had been drawn.

A short consultation was held between the heads, and failing observations, it was decided that it would be better to make for the island off which the ship had been becalmed; but even that desperate resolve had now to be given up, for the strength of all seemed gone, and the current set in, as far as they could judge, the opposite direction.

"We can do nothing, major," said the captain at last; "nothing now but trust in God and hope for the best."

"Amen!" said the major quietly, and he calmly took his turn at the baling, which had now become the one task undertaken, so as to keep the boat clear of water.

Night came slowly as they drifted on, but it came at last—a densely dark night, with the rain still falling; and in spite of their being in the tropics, the cold and suffering, as they all sat in their saturated garments wishing for the cessation of the rain, was terrible; and how those hours next passed none seemed to know, for they were utterly stupefied with weariness and exhaustion.

Morning at last, and with the break of day the rain partially ceased, for its violence was not so great, but it kept falling; and now to add to their peril a gusty wind came from astern as the sun began to rise.

It was plain to all on board that if the surface became rough their boat must sink. For she was so heavily-laden that the space of side above the water was small indeed. Under the circumstances Captain Strong decided to raise the little lug-sail neatly rolled round its mast, and this latter being stepped, the sail was unfurled, and in a few minutes they were gliding rapidly on, shipping a little water from time to time, but no more than could be easily mastered and kept down.

Where to steer was not in their choice. All that could be done was to keep the gig afloat, and to this the captain and mate directed all their energies.

Food was distributed, and of water they felt no want, their saturated garments having quenched all thirst; but matters seemed to grow worse. Mr Morgan was delirious, and one of the men lay rambling on about some place in London where he meant to have called.

Morning, noon, evening, and the gig rushing on through the broken water with a thick misty rain all around and no chance of making out their whereabouts.

"Shall we be saved?" said Mrs Strong at last in a whisper as, utterly worn out, the captain came at last and sat down between his wife and son.

"Don't ask, my dear," he said calmly. "We have done, and are doing, all that men can do. The rest must be left."

Night came, a night that was even blacker than that which had passed, but the rain did not cease nor the sky clear. Everything a hundred yards away seemed to be so much solid darkness; but, on the other hand, the sea grew no rougher, and the wind sent the boat rapidly along.

It must have been about midnight that, as nearly everyone in the gig were plunged in a stupor-like sleep, the first-mate was steering, the boat gliding swiftly through the broken waves. The major sat on one side and Mark on the other talking from time to time in a low voice.

A calm feeling of despair had settled down among them, and when they did speak it was about some indifferent matter, all shrinking from anything concerning their approaching fate, when Mark, who was stooping to pat the poor wounded dog at his feet, where he lay curled in company with shivering Jack, suddenly laid his hand upon Mr Gregory's arm.

"What's that?" he said in a whisper.

"What? I heard nothing," said the major.

"Silence!" cried the mate sternly; and he listened intently to a low roaring noise.

"Breakers!" he said suddenly. "We are near land."

"Land?" cried Mark.

"Yes, my boy. Oh, if it were day!"

The mate changed the course of the boat directly so as to run off to the left, but at the end of five minutes he altered the course again.

"Breakers there too," he said. "We are between them."

"Well, then, quick!" said the major. "Go about and let's turn back."

"My dear Major O'Halloran," said the mate calmly, "if I attempt to go about, the boat will fill instantly and sink. Our only chance is in keeping on."

As he spoke he resumed the course they had been just taking, and now, rapidly increasing in power, the sound of the waves breaking on rocks could be heard to right and left.

"But you don't know where you are going," said the major.

"No, sir. But it is all I can do. Mark Strong, rouse your father; and, major, be prepared to swim right ahead if anything happens."

"What's the good?" said the major calmly. And then, "Shall I wake them, or let them meet it asleep? I'll wake them," he said; and he crept cautiously to arouse Mrs and Mary O'Halloran, as Mark was rousing his father, his mother waking too.

"Breakers?" said the captain. "Well, I have been expecting it for hours. Can you make anything out, Gregory!"

"No, captain. All's like pitch ahead."

The captain uttered a sigh, and as the rest were roused, and realised what was taking place, they received it all with a dull quiet resignation, as if death would be almost welcome now.

The moments passed, and right and left the breakers roared, seeming so near that they fancied they saw them, and then as they rode on all at once there was a roar of breaking water right ahead.

But it was impossible to change the boat's course, and sitting stern and with his teeth set, Mr Gregory bent at the tough ash oar, as the boat refused to swerve a little to the right, where he thought the roar of breakers was less loud.

Then, with a shock which seemed to electrify all on board, the keel struck upon a rock, there was a crushing grating sound, a roar of waters, a wave leaped in, deluging all afresh, and the gig rose high in the air, and then plunged down as if into the depths of the ocean never to rise again.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

HOW HELP CAME IN TIME OF NEED.

The shock was so sudden that the half-awakened and helpless occupants of the boat made no effort to move, but clung to the thwarts of the boat, while the mast, with its heavy rain-saturated sail, snapped off short and fell over the side, dragging by its cords, as the boat rose again after its dive, gliding up a hillock of water, halted for a moment on the summit, and then glided down again.

This was repeated two or three times, and each with less violence, after which, to the surprise and joy of all, the little vessel rose and fell easily as the sea undulated, the officers knowing at once that they had struck upon a reef, which they had but just touched, and then had been carried over it into the calm water of a lagoon, where they rocked peacefully and safely, while only a short distance away the waves were thundering upon the coral rock, and fretting and raging as they roared, apparently wroth at not being able to reach their escaping prey.

"No water to signify," said the mate, as Billy Widgeon and Small baled hard till their dippers scraped the bottom without success.

The captain did not speak, but pressed his wife's hand, while for the first time Mrs O'Halloran displayed emotion by taking her half-numbed child to her breast, and sobbing aloud.

The major did not move, but laid one hand on Mark's knee and gave it a firm grip, sighing hard the while, and then there was silence for a time, as the gig rocked easily in the darkness, while the thunderous roar of the breakers grew less violent; and, instead of being deluged with spray as every billow curved over, there was a sensation as of shelter and warmth which pointed to the fact that the boat must have drifted behind rocks as into some channel; but the intense darkness rendered everything obscure.

"Cheer-ri-ly, mates," said a voice suddenly, as a slight splashing was heard. "We're not a-going to be drowned—dead this here time, for I've just touched bottom with the hitcher."

"Now, my lads," said the captain gravely, "our lives have been spared, thank Heaven! and we are to see the light of another day."

There was again silence, with the muffled roar of the breakers farther away than ever, and as the boat rocked away slowly with the same gentle motion, the wet, cold, and misery were forgotten by one after another, the darkness helping, the occupants of the little craft dropped off to sleep, one of the last being Mark.

Cramped, faint, and miserable, the lad woke at last with a start, to lie with his eyes open staring straight up at the blue sunlit sky, his mind for the time being a perfect blank. In fact it was some minutes before he realised that he was in the bottom of the boat, with his head resting upon Bruff's curly coat, and that Jack was huddled up close to him staring down into his face with an inquiring look, which, being interpreted, really meant, Where is the food?

Mark struggled up so painfully that he felt ready to lie down again; but he persevered and knelt in the bottom of the boat, to see as strange a sight as had ever before met his eyes. For, in spite of their cramped positions, every soul on board was sleeping heavily, the men in the bottom of the boat forward making pillows of each other, the tired ladies clinging together in the stern, and the officers amidships—the extreme stern with its limited space having been left to Mark, Bruff, and the monkey.

Haggard, pale, some with faces blackened with powder, others with their heads bound up with handkerchiefs and bandages which showed the necessity for their application, and all in the sleep which comes of utter exhaustion.

The ladies, with their hair dishevelled and their wet garments clinging to them, evoked most of the lad's pity, which was the next moment withdrawn for his father, who looked ghastly pale, and lay back with his head against the side of the boat, his hand resting upon that of Mr Morgan, whose face was buried in his chest as he leaned against a thwart.

The first-mate, too, crouched amidships in a very uneasy position, where he had tried to settle down with the major so as to leave more room. While the latter seemed the most placid of all, and lay back with half a cigar in his teeth—one which had evidently been cut in two, for there was no sign of the end having been lit.

Mark gazed round in a half-stupefied way for some minutes, hardly realising what it all meant, and it was only by scraps that he recalled the events since the fight in the cabin.

But by degrees all came back, even to the grazing of the reef and the gliding into calm water, and he looked to the right, to see about a mile away a long line of white foam, whose sound came in a low murmur, while between them and it lay blue water quite smooth and unruffled, save that it heaved softly, and far beyond the line of white foam there was the sunlit sea.

Sunlit, for, save to his left, there was not a cloud to be seen. The sky was of an intense blue, and the cloud that remained was peculiar-looking—fleecy and roseate, and hanging over the centre of a beautiful land whose shore was of pure white sand, rising right out of which and close to the water were the smooth straight columns of the cocoa-nut trees with their capitals of green.

He could see little but these beautiful vegetable productions, save farther along the shore, and beyond the belt of cocoa-nut trees a pile of rocks ran right down into the water; but from a glimpse here and there it was evident that there were tall trees and high ground beyond the palms.

Greatest boon of all to his eyes was the sun, which was not yet high, but whose warm beams provided him with an invigorating bath and seemed to send life and hope and strength into his cramped and chilled limbs.

He turned to look in another direction, and found that the boat was within a few yards of the pure white sands of a sort of spit or point which ran down into the lagoon, whose limpid waters were sheltered by the barrier reef; and as he wondered how it was that they had not drifted quite ashore he realised that the sail with its yard half sunken beneath the surface had caught in a piece of jagged coral rock, which rose from the bottom covered with its freight of animation, and to this they were anchored.

"Shall I wake them?" thought Mark as he looked round him at the sleeping people; but he did not stir, for the act seemed cruel. They were sleeping soundly and resting; the sun was rising higher and drying their wet garments; and at last, deciding that it would be wiser to let them wake of themselves, he turned his longing eyes to the soft white sand, which he felt must be warm, and it was all he could do to keep from lowering himself over the side and wading ashore, to lie down in it, to cover his limbs with it, and try once more to sleep.

The act would have aroused the sufferers about him, and he refrained, contenting himself with gazing down over the side at the coral rock three feet below the bottom of the boat, and seeing there among the miniature groves of wondrously tinted weeds shoals of silvery fish; translucent shrimps; curiously long snaky, scaly looking objects which wound in and out and undulated among the weeds, while every here and there played about some tiny chubby-looking fish like a fat young John Dory, but gorgeous in colour in the sunlit waters almost beyond description, so vivid were the bands of orange, purple, azure-blue, green, and gold.

Every here and there were curious shell-fish, some creeping like snails with their heavy houses upon their backs, others were oyster and mussel like, anchored and lying with their valvular shells half open; while a couple of yards away lay one monster about two feet long, a bivalve with ponderous shells, whose edges were waved in three folds, and a glance inside whose opening showed a lining of the most delicate pinky tint.

The warmth of the sun and the wonders of the coral-reef beneath his eyes made Mark forget his troubles for a time, but he was recalled to his position by his sensations of hunger, a whine from Bruff, and an inquiring chatter from the monkey, who changed his position and sat up on one of the thwarts looking very skinny and miserable, his face wrinkled and puckered, and the appealing inquiring look in his eyes growing more intense.

Mark gazed from one countenance to the other, all haggard and troubled, and he was beginning to long to awaken some one when the major stirred slightly, and drawing a long breath rolled the half cigar to and fro between his lips. Then without unclosing his eyes he grunted out:

"Bring me a light."

Miserable, wet, and hungry as he was, Mark could not restrain a smile.

"Bring me a light," growled the major again. "Do you—eh?" he ejaculated, opening his eyes and gazing round. "Oh! hah! I remember now. Huph! Oh my legs; they're as stiff as if they'd no joints! Why, Mark, my lad, good morning."

His words were uttered in a low voice, for he had glanced round and seen that everyone was asleep.

Mark reached over and extended his hand, which was warmly grasped, and this done, the major gave a glance round, grasping at once their position.

"Shame to wake them," he said, "but I want to stretch my legs. Ah, that's it! Give me your knife, lad."

Mark drew out his pocket-knife, and the major took hold of the sheet which reached to the submerged sail, and drew upon it so as to set the boat in motion. Then letting it go again he dexterously cut the sheet in two upon the edge of the boat before there was any check, and the gig floated slowly towards the shore.

"We shall be able to find that afterwards," he said in a whisper; and then he waited till the boat softly grounded upon the sands, so close to where they lay dry, that the major was able to step ashore, rocking the boat so slightly that no one stirred.

Mark made a sign, and Bruff limped up on to the thwart painfully, and made as if to leap ashore, but hesitated, lifted up his wounded paw, and whimpered.

The difficulty was solved by his master lifting his hind quarters over the side, the dog offering no resistance, and touching bottom he managed the rest himself, and splashed through the water to limp a few yards, and lie down and roll in the warm dry sand.

Jack needed no invitation or order, for, hopping to the side rather stiffly, he leaped over the intervening water on to the sand, and bounded to Bruff, chattering and revelling in the sunshine, while the dog ran on along the shore, and the two now began to gambol and roll.

Mark was the next to step ashore, and as he followed the major he limped, feeling as if every joint had been wrenched; but the pain wore off a little as he persevered, and following the major's example he stretched himself upon the sand.

"We're not much more than damp now, my lad," said the major; "and this will dry us and warm us too. I say, my boy, I thought we had come to the end of the book. Didn't you?"

"No," said Mark quietly. "I knew we were in great danger; but I felt that my father would save our lives."

"That's right," said the major. "Always have faith in your father, my lad. He's a fine fellow, and if you follow his example you will not go far wrong. Now, then, I begin to feel much better, and if I could light my cigar I should feel better still."

"Have you no matches, sir?"

"Yes, my lad, but if they are dry they may be wanted to cook something if there is anything here to cook, and I mustn't waste them on my luxuries. I wish I had awakened my Mary, but it's best to let her waken herself, and if I woke her I should have awakened them all."

"There's Mr Gregory opening his eyes, sir," said Mark eagerly; and he made a sign to the mate.

Mr Gregory stared hard at him for a few moments before any sign of comprehension came into his face. It did, however, at last, and he rose stiffly and stepped ashore.

"Good morning, indeed," he said; "it's more than good, for yesterday I thought it was good night for all of us. Why don't you light your cigar, major?"

"Don't tempt me, man, I'm going to practise chewing. Have this other half. Will you chew it?"

"No," said Mr Gregory, taking out a little silver matchbox; "I've plenty of lights, quite dry."

He struck one, and the two men lit their half cigars and sat in the sun smoking, while Mark watched them, the sun begetting a delicious sense of content and satisfaction, making him half-close his eyes as he listened to their conversation.

"Where are we, major! Can't exactly say. Small coral island somewhere near the track of ships to the east."

"It must be a good-sized coral island," said the major, "for there seems to be quite a mountain yonder."

"Can't be the mainland," said Gregory. "Yes, you're right. That is a hill of some height, and—why, there are clouds upon it and—why, they are only half-way up, and there are more on the top."

"Why, Gregory," cried the major, "it's a volcano!"

"No," said the mate; "there is no volcano anywhere near where we can be. You're right, sir, after all. Well, I'm puzzled; for that's a burning mountain certainly!"

Mark gazed with wondering eyes at the mountain, to see that the clouds which he had noticed when he first gazed shoreward were slowly dissolving away, leaving a line of mist apparently about a thousand feet above the sea; while above that the mountain was visible running up in a perfect cone to quite three thousand feet higher, where the point was hidden in a steaming cloud.

"You don't know where we are, then?"

"No, sir; perhaps the captain will know when he wakes. I've been out here again and again, and never seen that mountain. We can't, I am sure, be on the mainland, and it seems impossible that we can have been driven anywhere near Java. However, we are safe ashore, and, judging from the look of the trees and the sea, we shall not starve."

"I shall," said the major, puffing away at his bit of cigar. "If we don't soon have food I shall either kill and eat the monkey or Master Mark here! I must have something. By the way, don't throw your cigar-end down—save it. Tobacco may grow scarce."

The mate nodded; and just then Mark uttered an ejaculation, for he saw Mrs Strong move; her companions started into wakefulness at the same time; and the next moment, as they rose painfully the major and Mark helped them ashore, where they sank down in the warm sand.

The captain was roused by the motion of the boat; and he would have come ashore without awaking his men, but the boat was so lightened now that the men were roused. The least injured came ashore, and after an effort or two ran the gig up on the sands, with the two men who were worst lying in the bottom—Mr Morgan and one of the fore-mast men—these two being carefully lifted out and laid on the sand in the shade of the cocoa-nut trees, while something in the shape of breakfast was prepared.

At first everyone moved painfully, but every step in the light and warmth seemed comforting; and before long all were busy, the men finding shell-fish in the hollows and crevices of the coral rocks; others collected wood, while a fire was made. Billy Widgeon, after rubbing his legs and bathing his feet first in the sea and then in the warm sand, volunteered to climb a cocoa-nut tree and get down some fruit; the ladies went to a pool in the rocks to try and perform something in the way of a morning toilet; and the major turned chef and cooked the shell-fish, and opened some tins of preserved meat and biscuit; Mark being the successful discoverer of a spring as he went in search of Bruff, to find him drinking thereof.

Shortly afterwards, in earnest thankfulness, a hearty breakfast was eaten upon that lonely shore. But when cuts had been bathed and re-bandaged and evidences of the conflict removed, and a short inspection made to see if there was anything to fear from savages, the arms were examined and made ready, a watch was set; and in the shade of the cocoa-nut grove the greatest boon of the weary was sought and found—for by mid-day, when the sun was scorching in its power, all had gladly lain down to rest and find the sleep that would prepare them for the struggle for life in which they were to engage.

"So we are to be the first watch—eh, Mark?" said the major.

"Yes, sir," was the reply.

"Four hours. Shall we keep awake?"

Just then there was a low moan.

"Yes," said the major; "we shall not want to sleep with poor Morgan like that."

"Will he recover, sir?" whispered Mark as he knelt in the sand by the sick man's head, and raised some cocoa-nut leaves over his head as a screen.

"Please God!" said the major piously; and he followed Mark's example and screened the injured and now delirious fore-mast-man from the sunbeams, which streamed like silvery arrows through the great founts of verdant leaves.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

HOW THE WATCH HEARD A NOISE.

That was a weary watch, but, as the major said, they did not want to sleep, with the wounded men moaning and muttering in their uneasy rest. For there was so much to do, seeing to the shade and altering the positions of the leaves, so that while the sun was kept off, the soft breeze from the sea was allowed to cool the fevered brows of the patients.

Then there were flies which were disposed to be troublesome and had to be kept at a distance, Mark making a loose chowry, like a horse-tail, of long wiry grass, and this proving so effective that the major annexed it, and advised Mark to make another.

And so an hour passed away, after which Mark took a tin and fetched some of the cool spring-water which came trickling down from the interior, deeply shaded by the ferns, and so low among mossy stones that he had to climb into a narrow chasm to the clear basin-like pool.

With this he prepared to bathe Morgan's forehead; but as he bent over him the poor fellow's countenance wore so terrible an aspect, the skin being absolutely green, that the lad shrank away and signed to the major.

"Well, my lad, what is it?"

"Look!—his face! What does it mean?"

"Eh!—mean! What?"

"Don't you see? That horrible green!"

"Tchah! what are you talking about?" said the major, picking up a leaf and holding it over his head. "Now, then, what colour is my face?"

"Green," said Mark, smiling. "How stupid of me!"

"Well, we will not call it stupid, my lad; but with so many real difficulties we must not make imaginary ones. Why, Mark, this voyage is making a man of you—self-reliant, business-like, and strong. When we get over it—"

"Shall we get over it, sir?" said Mark sadly.

"Ah!" said the major, speaking in a low tone so as not to disturb the patients; "now, that's a chance for a sermon for you, my lad, only I can't preach. Look here, Mark, ten thousand things may happen to us, one of which is that we may all die here of starvation."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then, that's ten thousand to one. Bah! Don't fidget now. We have just landed in a little paradise, after running terrible risks from spear and kris, explosion, fire, storm, and wreck. You ought to be thankful, and not growl."

"I am thankful, sir."

"Then show it, my lad. Take what comes, like a man; do the best you can for everybody, and leave the rest."

"I'll try, sir."

"Try! nonsense! I know you already, my lad, better than you know yourself. You'll do it naturally without trying."

They sat here in that golden glow of shelter for some time in silence, watching their patients and the glittering sea, broken every now and then by the splash of a fish.

"Do you think Mr Morgan will get better, sir?" whispered Mark at last.

"Certainly I do. Why shouldn't he? A strong healthy man with his wound waiting to heal as soon as he could have rest and proper sleep. What we have gone through was enough to give us all fever, so no wonder a wounded man is so bad. I expected that your father would give up."

"But he has not, sir."

"No; mind has kept him from breaking down. He has all the responsibility, you see. You must try and grow up just such a man, my lad."

There was again a silence, broken at last by the major.

"I want to go exploring here, Mark," he said. "I expect this will prove to be a very wonderful place."

"But I thought such an island as this would be full of beautiful birds."

"Perhaps it is, but the birds are all sitting under their sun-shades till the sun begins to go down. Why, Mark, we shall be in clover!"

"But about food, sir? What shall we do for food for such a party? The stores won't last long."

"Now, that's a boy all over," said the major, chuckling. "Food! My word, how a boy does love the larder! There, don't look so serious, Mark. I was just as bad, I can remember, at home, enjoying my own school-room breakfast, then getting a little more when my father had his; having a little lunch; then my dinner, followed by my tea; after which dessert, when they had theirs, in the dining-room; lastly, a bit of supper; and I finished off by taking biscuits or baking-pears to bed."

"Yes, sir," said Mark; "but that was in England."

"Well, never mind. We shall find something to eat here, I daresay. Enough to keep us. Why, Mark, I don't suppose we should have to put you in the pot for quite a year."

Mark laughed, and the major's eyes twinkled as he went on.

"What nonsense, my lad! we couldn't starve here. The sea teems with fish waiting to be caught. Look yonder."

Mark glanced in the required direction, and could see the smooth water in the lagoon dappled and blurring as a shoal of fish played upon the surface.

"But how are we to catch them, sir?"

"Hooks and lines; make nets; fish-traps. Why, Mark, if a savage can do these things, surely we can!"

"Do you think there are any animals here?" said Mark, glancing round.

"Sure to be of some kind. The place is evidently extensive. Pig, perhaps deer; plenty of birds; and we have guns and ammunition. Then there will be fruit."

"Do you think so, sir?"

"I'm sure of it. There are the cocoa-nuts to begin with. Fruit! yes, and vegetables too."

Mark smiled.

"Ah, you don't know! Knock that fly off Morgan's cheek. But I do, my lad. We sha'n't get any asparagus; but we can eat the palm-shoots; and as for cabbage, we sha'n't regret that as long as we can get at the hearts of the palms."

"Do you think there will be any snakes?" asked Mark.

"Sure to be."

"Poisonous?"

"Very likely. Perhaps some big ones. They'll do to eat if we are very hungry."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Mark, with a shudder.

"Well, I'm like the Yankee backwoodsman, Mark, my lad. He didn't 'hanker arter crows' after he had eaten them once. I don't 'hanker arter' snakes, but I'd sooner sit down to a section of boa-constrictor roasted in the ashes than starve."

"I don't think I would."

"Wait till you are starving, my lad."

"Should you say there are any big dangerous animals?" continued Mark, after a pause; "lions, or tigers, or leopards?"

"Certainly not; but there may be rhinoceros or elephant, if the island is big enough, or near the mainland, and—what the dickens is that?"

He jumped up as rapidly as Mark sprang to his feet, for just then there came, apparently not from very far off, so terrible a roar that the major ran to the nearest gun, examined the loading, and then stood with the weapon cocked.

Mark involuntarily caught his arm.

"Don't do that, boy," said the major in a low angry voice. "That is what a woman would do—try to find protection, and hinder the man. Get a weapon if it's only your knife."

Mark's pale face flushed, and he caught up a gun, to stand beside the major, as the terrific harsh yelling roar came again.

It was a sound horrible enough to startle the stoutest hearted, so weird and peculiar was it in its tones; while the silence which succeeded was even more terror inspiring, for it suggested that the wild beast which had uttered the cry might have caught sight of them, and be coming nearer.

The sound seemed to come from the rocky rapidly-rising ground beyond the narrow tree-fern shaded gorge where the spring had been found; but though they listened intently for a few moments, there was utter stillness till all at once there was a fresh sound, something between a sigh and a moan, such as an animal might utter if it had been struck down.

Mark's eyes swept the land beyond the cocoa-nut grove wildly; but he could see nothing save the rocks and flowering shrubs; then he glanced at the shaded sands where their friends were sleeping, but the sound had not awakened them.

"I can't make it out, Mark," said the major, as he keenly swept the place as far as the trees would allow. "Couldn't be fancy, could it?"

The answer came in a piteous burst of howls, followed by a hissing sound, and directly after Bruff appeared, tearing along on three legs, his last tucked out of sight, the rough shaggy hair which formed a ruff about his neck bristling; and close behind him, Jacko running as if for his life.

"No," said the major; "it couldn't be fancy. They heard it too."

Bruff ran up to Mark, and crouched at his feet shivering and whining; while Jacko kept running from one to the other, chattering in a low tone and staring wildly about as if in a terrible state of excitement.

"Can you hear anything coming, Mark?" said the major. "Down, dog! lie still!"

Mark listened intently; but there was not a sound to be heard but the distant boom of the breakers on the barrier reef, the beating of his heart, and the growling of the dog. Once only came a shrill chizzling chirping, evidently made by some kind of cricket, otherwise there was the stillness of a torrid day when the very vegetation begins to flag.

"I can't hear it, sir," he whispered.

"So it can't be coming," said the major, looking uneasy. "I'm puzzled, Mark. It was neither lion nor tiger, though something like the roar a lion can give; it was not like an elephant's trumpeting, nor the grunting of a rhinoceros; and it could not be a hippopotamus, for we are out of their range, and there is no big river—there can't be—here."

"Could it be some enormous serpent?" whispered Mark.

"I never heard a serpent do anything but hiss, my lad, though they say the anacondas make strange thunder in the North American forests."

"It might be a large crocodile."

"Yes, it might," said the major; "but if it was, the noise is something quite new to me."

"It is more likely to be some terrible beast here that we never heard of before, sir," faltered Mark. "Don't laugh at me, sir, I can't help feeling nervous."

"You'd be a wonder if you could," said the major. "I feel ten times as uncomfortable as I did at any time yesterday. We knew what we had to meet then, but this is something—"

Whoor-r-oor!

The sound came again with terrible violence, but though it was as horrible and awe-inspiring it was either farther away or the animal which uttered the cry had turned its head in another direction.

"It's beyond me, Mark, my lad," said the major, drawing a long breath; "but it can't see us here, whatever it is, and it is something strange to be roaring like that by day."

"I wonder it has not woke anyone up," whispered Mark.

"Worn out," replied the major, laconically; and then they stood peering out from among the trees, and watching intently for a long time without hearing a sound, till the cricket began to utter its chirruping note again.

This was taken up by another close by, and by another at a distance, and then quite a chorus followed, resembling the sounds made by the house-cricket of the English hearth, but more whirring and ear-piercing.

"It must have gone back into the jungle, Mark," said the major, "or else fallen asleep. Anyhow I'm not at all pleased to find we have such a neighbour."

"Do you think it is a dangerous beast?" whispered Mark.

"I can't say till I've seen it, but it sounds very much like it."

"I know what it is!" said Mark in a low excited voice.

"You do?"

"Yes. It is in that jungle, yonder."

"I don't know where it is, but it must be somewhere near. Well, what is it?"

"A wild man of the woods."

"What! an orang-outang?"

Mark nodded.

"Well, if it is, we shall have to tame him. My word, he must have a fine broad chest, Mark, and he has a wonderful voice for a song. There, I don't think we are in any danger for the present, and it must be nearly the end of our watch by the look of the sun. Here comes the captain."



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

HOW BILLY WIDGEON WAS DAMPED.

Mark turned sharply, to see that his father was approaching, and his first words were concerning the time.

"It must be beyond your watch, major," he said. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Well, the fact is, we've had a scare," said the major; and he related their experience.

"It's strange," said the captain; "but we are well armed. It may be, as Mark says, some kind of monkey. They can make atrocious noises. How are the sick men?"

"Sleeping beautifully," said the major. "And you?"

"Far better; that little sleep has worked wonders. I'll go and rouse up Small."

"No; let the poor fellow sleep," said the major. "I don't want to lie down. Do you, Mark?"

"No; I couldn't sleep with that noise so near," said Mark. "I should like to stay. But wouldn't it be best to get the boat launched again in case there is any very great danger?"

"It would not take long to launch that," said his father. "If we are not molested for the night we will begin exploring to-morrow. This evening we must try and rig up a shed for the women. To-morrow we shall be better able to think what we can do."

The captain looked at the two wounded men, who seemed to be sleeping now more easily, and then taking his gun he proposed to the major that they should make a little search round their resting-place to see what was the cause of the noise they had heard.

This meant leaving Mark alone, and he looked up so ruefully at the major, that, recollecting his own qualms, the latter objected to the plan.

"No, no, Strong," he said; "if there is any danger let it come to us, I don't see any use in going to meet it."

"As you will," said the captain quietly. "What we seem to want now is rest and strength. Oh, here is one of the men!"

Bruff and the monkey drew their attention to him by going toward the place where the men were sleeping, Bruff limping, but wagging his bushy tail, and the monkey cantering towards his old friend Billy with plenty of low chattering and sputtering noises.

This awoke Small, who rose and came out of the grove to walk slowly along the sands comparing notes about their injuries, which were fortunately very slight.

"What shall we do, captain?" said Small.

"Take the boat and see if you can recover the sail. You can go with them if you like, Mark."

Mark turned to go eagerly.

"Can you launch the boat?"

"Ay, ay, sir; it ain't far," was the reply; and the three went down to the spot where the gig lay, ran her down into the smooth water, and pushed out, Small thrusting an oar over the stern and giving it the necessary fish-tail motion known as paddling, while Mark and Billy Widgeon looked out for the submerged sail.

It was soon found and towed ashore, where, after the boat had been made fast to a piece of rock, the canvas was drawn over the dry burning sands, first on one side and then on the other, parting readily with its moisture, and being finally left in the hot glow.

The captain joined them directly after with the major.

"Did you hear it, father?" whispered Mark.

"No, my boy; all has been perfectly silent. Now, to see if we cannot make some kind of shelter."

It was by no means a difficult job, for Small and Billy Widgeon soon set the boat mast free from its lashings, which were utilised to fasten the slight spar horizontally between two thin cocoa-nut palms at about three feet from the ground, which was here, as for the most part about them, covered with soft dry drifted sand.

Over this it was proposed to hang the sail as soon as it was dry and peg out the sides, for which purpose Small and his companion took out their knives, and, attacking a low scrubby bush, soon had a sufficiency ready.

"Not much of a place, Mark," said the captain cheerfully; "but it will make a dry little tent for the ladies till we see what we can do."

The next thing was to overhaul the stores, which made so poor a show that the captain knit his brow, but cleared it directly, and helped to place all together in a little heap beneath the cocoa-nut trees in company with the ammunition, of which there was a fair supply, and the arms.

"I think these men should carry revolvers in their belts," said the captain, "in case of there being any danger."

"Decidedly," said the major in an emphatic way.

"Which I shouldn't say as there was, sir," said the boatswain, "unless some of these copper rascals come and land, for this here must be only a little island, as a climb up the mountain will show us when you like to go, sir."

"Never mind, Small, carry a loaded revolver. Better be prepared than be caught helpless. Besides, you might, perhaps, unexpectedly get a shot at a pig, and such a chance mustn't be lost."

Danger past, a sailor soon recovers his good-humour, and Billy Widgeon ducked down, doubling himself up in a silent laugh.

"Which is right, Billy, my lad," said the boatswain good-humouredly. "He thinks if we waits for pork till I brings down a pig with a six-shooter the crackling won't burn and the stuffing spoil."

He thrust the weapon through the waistband of his trousers, right at the back, so as to leave his hands free, and then looked up at the captain for orders.

"We shall have to set-to and get provisions somehow, Small," said the captain, "and begin in real earnest to-morrow, trying what we can do with the guns inland. Suppose you and Widgeon try to unlay one of the sail-ropes and make a fishing-line."

"And about hooks?" said the major.

"Ah! that has been a puzzle," said the captain, "that I have not solved as yet."

"I know," said Mark eagerly. "The ladies are sure to have some hair-pins."

"Which we can temper in the fire and hammer into shape," said the captain. "Think you could raise a barb at one end before we point it, major?"

"I think I can try," replied the major.

"And I could pynt 'em on the stones," said Billy eagerly.

"Then the fishing difficulty is over," said the captain. "Fish are sure to swarm off those rocks."

"I say, Billy," said Small, giving one ear a rub, "aren't there a couple o' fishing-lines in the locker of the gig?"

Billy gave one of his short legs a slap, turned sharply and ran down to the boat, where he lifted a triangular lid in the bows, and gave a cheer as he plunged in his hand.

"Three on 'em," he cried, "and good uns."

"Then we sha'n't starve yet, major. There are fish and water."

"And cocoa-nuts in plenty," cried Mark.

"If we can get at them," said the major.

"Why, Billy, couldn't you climb one o' them trees?" cried Small.

"I could—one of the small ones," said Mark.

"But the small ones don't seem to bear nuts," said the captain quietly.

"I dunno," said Billy, after a spell of thinking. "I'm a bit skeert about it."

"What, afraid?" growled Small.

"No, no, not afraid," said Billy; "skeert as I couldn't get up. You see there's no branches, not a sign o' one till you gets to the place where the nuts grows, and then the branches is all leaves."

"No," said the major, looking at Billy with his head on one side, "he is not a countryman of mine. That was an English bull, Mark."

"Why, o' course!" cried Billy, slapping his leg. "I've got it."

"Got what, m'lad?" said Small.

"The coky-nuts," said Billy, smiling. "'Tis his natur' to."

"Don't talk conundydrums, m'lad," said the boatswain. "If so be as you've got the coky-nuts, let's have 'em, for I'd like a go at one 'mazingly."

"Why, I aren't got the nuts, gentlemen," said Billy; "but, as I said afore, it is his natur' to."

"Whose, Billy?" said Mark.

"Why, the monkey's, sir. Here, Jack."

The monkey, who was performing a very kindly office for Bruff, as the dog lay stretched upon the sand, and making a slight repast off the insects, left off searching, and ambled in a sideways fashion to Billy.

"Look ye here, my hearty," said the latter, as the monkey leaped lightly in his arms, and holding him with one, the sailor picked up an old dried nut in its husky covering.

"These here's coky-nuts, as you knows very well; so let's pick out a good tree, and up you goes and gets some and throws 'em down."

Jack uttered a chattering noise, took hold of the light nut, turned it over, and let it fall.

"Toe be sure," said Billy, smiling with pride. "Then let 'em fall, and 'below!' and 'ware heads!' says you. Ain't he a monkey to be proud on, Master Mark?"

"Send him up then, Billy, and let's have some down."

"That I just will," said the little sailor; and toddling to one of the most heavily-laden of the trees near, where the nuts could be seen pendent beneath the plumose leaves which glistened in the evening sun, he placed the monkey against the smooth-stemmed tree.

"That's your sort," he cried; "up you goes, Jack, and shies down all the lot."

The monkey seemed to enjoy the task, and catching the smooth stem with its fore-paws he began to ascend quite readily, while those below watched him till he reached the crown of the graceful tree, fifty feet above their heads.

"Bravo, Jack!" said the major. "I claim the three first nuts for the ladies."

"And I the next for the wounded men," said Mark.

"And you shall have 'em, my lad," said Billy excitedly. "I say, Mr Mark, sir, aren't he a monkey to be proud on? He's cleverer than lots o' men."

Meanwhile Jack had climbed solemnly into the verdant nest above the nuts, and now looked down to where Bruff was staring wonderingly up at him, and uttered a low chattering, to which the dog responded with a bark.

"That's them, Jack. Chuck 'em down, old lad," cried Billy, smiling gleefully, as he rubbed his hands up and down his sides.

Jack changed his position, his tail giving a whisk or spin round, and looked down at Bruff, who now ran to the other side.

"Come, matey! Let's have 'em," said Billy. "Here, look sharp! Chuck down the whole lot."

Jack chattered again, and then as Bruff barked he barked in no very bad imitation, while he took hold of a leaf and gave it a shake.

"No, no; the nuts, stoopid, not them there leaves," cried Billy.

Jack shook another leaf and barked at the dog, who barked up at him, and reared up and scratched the tree.

"Here, you be off, and don't interrupt," cried Billy, throwing his cap at the dog. "Don't you see he's busy?"

Bruff caught the cap up in his teeth and trotted away with it, whereat Jack chattered and sputtered more loudly, and again shook one of the leaves, whilst the little party below looked on in an amused fashion.

"Why, Billy," said the boatswain at last, in the most stolid of tones, "don't seem to me as that there is a monkey to be proud on."

"Oh yes, he is, Mr Small, sir! He's a good un, and he'd ha' sent them there nuts a showering down if that there dorg hadn't begun his larks. Here, give me my cap."

"Never mind the cap, Billy," said Mark, laughing, "we want the nuts."

"So do I, Mr Mark, sir," said Billy, scratching his head, "and I'd give old Jack such a clout o' the head if I was up there."

"Ah! you'll have to teach him how, my man," said the major. "No nuts that way."

"He knows, begging your pardon, sir," said Billy. "You just wait a minute, sir, and you'll see."

"No," said the major, "it does not seem any use to wait. Come, Strong, let's see how our wives are getting on."

"Well, I do call that shabby," muttered Billy. "Just as I was a taking all this trouble. Here, you, sir, shy down one o' them nuts."

"Chick!" said Jack.

"Do you hear?"

"Chack!" said Jack.

"Now, look here," said Billy, stooping down and picking up a handful of sand; "if you don't chuck down some of them here nuts I'll shy this here at you and knock you off your perch."

"Chick, chick, chick! Chack, chack, chack! Chicker, chicker, chacker, chacker, chacker, chack!" sputtered the monkey, dancing up and down in the tree.

"Well, I am blamed!" cried Billy savagely, as he saw the captain and major strolling away and the boatswain and Mark laughing at him. "It's all his orbstinacy—that's what it is. I'll give him such a wunner when I gets hold of him. I'll make him say 'chack!'"

But there seemed to be no more chance of Billy getting hold of the monkey than of the nuts, and the more he scolded and abused the curious animal the more loudly it sputtered at him, and seemed to expostulate and scold by turns.

"There, it's of no good," said the boatswain; "give it up, my lad."

"Yes," said Billy sulkily, "I'm a-going to; but if I don't sarve him out for this my name aren't Widgeon."

"Come along, Mr Mark," said the boatswain, "Jack's going to roost up there to-night."

"Wish he may tumble out o' the tree, then, and break something," growled Billy, whose dignity was touched.

"He won't tumble," said the boatswain, "he knows better. Come along, Mr Mark."

"Want him down, Billy?"

"Course I does, and I'm sorry for him when he do come, for I'm a-going to warm his skin, that's what I'm a-going to do for him."

"Shall I get him down?"

"You can't," cried Billy sourly.

"Better than you can get cocoa-nuts," said Mark, laughing, for the perils were all forgotten, and the strange noise in the jungle might never have been. "Here, Bruff."

The dog trotted up with Billy's cap in his mouth, surrendered it dutifully; and then Mark caught up a piece of drift-wood—a branch swept ashore by the current—and raising it in a threatening way, Bruff uttered a low howl.

Whish went the stick through the air, and Bruff crouched at his feet, grovelling in the sand, and holding up his wounded and bandaged paw as he whined piteously, as if that injury were sufficient to exempt him from being beaten.

Mark bent over him, caught him by the loose skin of his neck, and struck the sand a heavy bang.

The dog whined softly as if beaten, and Jack began to dance about up in the cocoa-nut tree, snaking the leaves and chattering savagely.

Another blow on the sand, a howl, and a furious burst from the monkey, who spat and scolded more fiercely.

Another blow, and another, and another; and as Bruff whined, the monkey came scuffling down the smooth columnar trunk, and was evidently on his way to attack Mark, but Billy caught him before he could reach the ground, administered a smart cuff on the ear, and would have delivered another, but, quick as thought, Jack sprang from his grasp, spun round, leaped upon his back like lightning, bit him in the thick of the neck, and then bounded away towards the jungle, followed by the dog.

"Now I calls him a warmint," said Billy, rubbing his neck softly. "A warmint—that's what I calls him. Only let me get hold on him again; and if I don't make him warm, my name aren't Widgeon."

"You've got about the worst on it this time, my lad, and no mistake," said Small, laughing, while Mark stamped about and held his sides.

"Yes, I've got the worst on it," said Billy; "but I'll sarve him out—a warmint. My neck a-bleeding, Mr Small?"

"No, m'lad, only a bit red. He's give it a bit of a pinch; that's all."

"Yes, and I'll give him a bit of a pinch when I ketches him. I calls him a warmint—that's what I calls him."

Billy kept on repeating this as he followed Mark and the boatswain to where the two wounded men were lying, and just then one of the sailors came out of the grove to join them, his services being enlisted to help stretch the sail over the mast and peg it tightly down, for it was now pretty well dry, the result being that a fairly good shelter was provided for the ladies, who soon after came out to join the captain and major just as the sun was going down, and the short tropical twilight set in.

There was no desire for another meal, the weariness consequent upon the exertions and anxieties of the past still inviting rest; and after all had sat upon the sands for a while gazing at the phosphorescent sea, and the great stars which glowed out of the purple sky, a fresh watch was set, Mr Gregory being roused now from his heavy sleep.

"Shall I tell him about the noise we heard?" said the major.

"It would only be fair," the captain said; and the result was told.

"Well," he said, "Small's going to share my watch, and we'll have the guns. If whatever it is comes, I daresay we shall have a shot at it before it does us any mischief, and I suppose if you hear firing, gentlemen, you'll rouse up."

Half an hour later those two were keeping their lonely vigil, while the rest followed the example of the men who had not yet been awake, and sought in sleep and in simple trustfulness for the rest which was to give them strength for the labours of another day.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

HOW MARK STRONG PASSED A BAD NIGHT.

The sand made a comfortable bed, and Mark had not lain down very close to one end of the little tent before he became aware that he had two companions in the shape of Bruff and Jacko, who just at dusk had come stealing back out of the jungle, and kept close to him and out of Billy Widgeon's reach.

Weary as he was, Mark found it a difficult task to go to sleep. Nothing could have been more comfortable than his bed, the soft dry sand fitting in to his shape so as to give rest to his tired muscles, and the pleasantly cool night breeze that floated through the leaves of the tall palms breathed upon his sun-scorched cheeks. Now and then there was the hum of mosquitoes, but they did not molest him; and as he lay listening to the distant boom of the surf and watched the great twinkling stars he now and then nearly lost consciousness, and the tall columns of the cocoa-nut trees took the shape to him of the supports of the old four-post bedstead at home.

Then he would start into wakefulness again and listen, fancying that he heard rustling sounds from the jungle inland, and as he raised his head he fully expected to hear the awful roar of the uncouth beast as it came down toward the grove.

But all was silent, and he was obliged to confess that it was fancy as he turned over, and with his back to the sea and its murmuring boom as in slow pulsation the billows curved over and broke, he now lay looking inland.

The cocoa-nut trees formed quite a narrow belt, so narrow that where he lay he could see between their trunks the starlit sky over the sea on the one side and the darker sky over the mountain a few miles away.

The stars shone very brightly here, too, and every now and then there was the nicker of lightning, generally so slight that it was but pale; but now and then there was a flash which seemed as if the sky opened and displayed the shapes of the clouds, and these were like mountains, or might be the mountains themselves as far as he could tell.

Still sleep would not come, and he turned again and again till he grew more hot and weary, and began to think at last how delightful it would be to go down to the edge of the sea, undress, and bathe in the cool sparkling water.

Very nice, but there were drawbacks. He did not know what strange creatures might be roaming about in search of prey, and he had often read that the lagoons about the tropic islands were infested with sharks.

Then he began to think over their future in this strange place, not with any feeling of dread, for there was a delightful novelty in the idea of exploring this unknown island; of building their own houses, making their own gardens, and fishing, hunting, and leading a life of adventure. All this seemed delightful, for he would not be alone. At times he thought of how pleasant it would have been if there were a companion of his own age; but on the whole the prospect was fascinating, and even the sensation of dread did not master the satisfaction.

There would be journeys into the interior; the burning mountain to ascend; strange birds, butterflies, and reptiles to discover, and perhaps mines of precious stones and gold. Plenty to see, plenty to find, especially wild fruits, such as were written of in the tropics. Everything with its spice of danger was tempting, till the recollection of that appalling roar came again, and with it a sensation of dampness about his forehead.

At last, just as Mark had decided that he would get up and go and join Mr Gregory and Small, to sit and talk to them, he dropped off fast asleep, and started into wakefulness again listening, for he fancied he had heard that appalling roar.

All still save the sigh of some sleeper, and once more he lay down hot, weary, and uncomfortable, for sleeping in his clothes seemed to be a horrible mistake. He had never before realised how many buttons he had about him; for, if he lay on one side, a brass button seemed to be thinking that it was a seal, and his ribs were wax. On the other side it was just as bad. If he turned over on his face, as if about to swim in the soft sand, the sensation was horrible from his throat downwards; while, if, in despair, he lay flat on his back, he felt as if a couple of holes were being bored into his waist, working their way on slowly till he told himself he could bear no more.

Just then Captain Strong came to the front of the bed, stepping on to his legs, walking right up him, and sitting down upon his chest, telling him he was a disobedient son for not going down into the hold of the ship to dig out the stowaway with the old blue earthenware shell that lay in the tea-caddy at home, a measure which, when filled three times, was considered sufficient for the pot. After that Mrs Strong came and looked at him reproachfully for feeling dissatisfied with his father's proceedings. She told him he had no business to consider the captain heavy, for he had often carried him when a little boy, while now it was his duty to carry his father.

The position seemed painful and tiresome to Mark, for the captain was so unreasonable; he kept on scolding him in a gruff voice for not getting up to dig out the stowaway, who by some singular arrangement was deep down in the hold below the packages of cargo, and at the same time standing at the foot of the bed with a handkerchief tied round his head, looking wistfully at him, as if appealing to him to come and use the caddy-spoon, and yet the captain would not get up.

It was a terrible trouble to Mark, for his reason told him that his father's conduct in sitting upon him was absurd and bad for his chest, and yet all the while he felt that his father must know best.

But then there was the little brittle caddy-spoon. He wanted to think it was correct; but his reason told him it was absurd to attempt to dig up a man with such a pitiful tool. If his father would only have got off his chest and reasoned with him he would not have cared; but here he was, a big heavy man, squatted just upon the top button of his waistcoat, his legs drawn up, his knees at his chin, and his face staring right into Mark's.

It was no wonder that the lad felt in a perspiration, and was ready to reproach his mother for not assisting him in what was minute by minute growing a more painful position; but Mrs Strong did not stir; the captain kept up in constant repetition his scolding apostrophe, and the stowaway looked more dismal than ever.

Mark tried to change his position a little so as to get ease, for the heels of the captain's boots were very hard, but to move was impossible, try how he would. He wanted to speak, but the words would not come; the oppression on his chest grew more terrible; and at last, unable to bear it any longer, he took hold of his father's thick, short, curly whiskers with both hands as he tried to thrust him away.

For response the captain uttered a low deep remonstrant growl, and Mark awoke, to find himself on his back holding Bruff's coat in his hands, and the dog protesting, for he found Mark's chest a comfortable place. Jack had agreed with him, and the pair were cuddled up together in a sort of knot which rolled off on to the sand as the lad threw himself upon his side.

Mark lay panting and hot for some time, and then once more oblivion came over him, this time with no painful nightmare full of absurdities, but a deep heavy dreamless sleep, from which he started up in horror with that appalling roar ringing in his ears and dying away in the distance.

This was no delusion, for Bruff was standing beside him whining and shivering with terror, the monkey was grovelling in the sand, and all around there were eager voices inquiring:

"What was that?"



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

HOW THE AWFUL ROAR WAS CANVASSED.

No one could tell what, or whence came the noise, but the terror it inspired was sufficient to chase away sleep from all. Everyone had been awakened, and the captain had at once gone to the watch, followed by Mark, after he had been to the end of the little tent and tried to give some comfort by telling its occupants that the noise came from some wild beast in the jungle.

Mr Gregory and Small were on the alert. They had had a perfectly quiet watch till just then, as they were noticing the first signs of daybreak, when, increasing in volume and then dying away, there came this appalling roar.

"Just the same as we heard, eh, Mark?" said the major, coming up.

"Yes, just the same."

"Well, Gregory, what do you make it?" said the captain, who had rather doubted before.

"Don't know—some beast of the forest."

"You have heard nothing before?"

"Not a sound. Small thinks it must be a lion."

"Well, something of that kind, sir. I once heered a lion make such a row that he nearly blew off the roof of his cage! but it wasn't quite the same as this here, as is hollerer."

"Well," said the captain, "it can't be a lion; and as it does not seem disposed to molest us we must be—"

He stopped short, for there was a low moan from the same direction as that in which they had heard the cry.

"Is that something it has killed?" whispered Mark in an awe-stricken voice.

The captain did not answer; and as all listened for a repetition of the sounds the day began to dawn rapidly, the birds twittered and piped, and shrieked at the edge of the jungle, while flecks of orange and scarlet appeared high up in the sky.

Then a low murmur of admiration burst from the group as they saw a roseate cloud upon the top of the conical mountain begin to glow and burst into a dozen tints of purple and gold, shot with the most effulgent hues; and then slowly there was a glowing point to be seen just above the cloud, which circled it like a ring of gorgeously-coloured vapour; then slowly the light descended the mountain till from top to bottom it was aglow with purple and green and orange; and they turned sharply, to see that the sun was just rolling up over the smooth sea, spreading a pathway of light from the horizon to the isle.

So glorious was the scene, as the light wreaths of mist above the purple rolled away, that the terrible awakening from sleep was forgotten, and a spirit of thankfulness that they had been saved from the sea to land in such a paradise filled the breasts of all.

Beauty is beauty, but the loveliest scene is soon forgotten by a hungry man. Rest, freedom from peril, wounds and bruises amending, and the fact that the previous day's supply had been very short, combined to make everybody ravenous; and the captain, though without a ship, had his hands full.

He satisfied himself that Morgan and the sailor were better, the fever having abated, and then gave his orders shortly.

Two men were set to make a fire, two more to cut down a cocoa-nut tree that was of small size and yet bore several fruits.

The major and Widgeon started off along the shore with a biscuit-bag to collect shell-fish, and at the muddy exit of a tiny stream came upon quite a swarm of little crabs, who challenged them to fight—so Billy afterwards said—by snapping their claws at them and flourishing them above their heads as they retreated to their holes.

Mark and Small provided themselves with a bag of bivalves for bait and went off to the boat to fish.

Lastly, the captain and the ladies walked to the edge of the jungle in search of fruit, while the former shot a few birds.

The morning was delightful, and Mark and Small were soon afloat, to Billy Widgeon's intense disgust, for it had been his full intention to take Mark's place and form one of the fishing party.

Mark soon had a line ready, and after opening some of the shell-fish with his knife baited a couple of hooks and waited till the boatswain had piloted the boat to where there was an opening in the reef and the sea was setting into the lagoon.

"Now, lookye here, my lad," said Small; "when I was a boy I used to fish in the mill-dam at the back of our cottage, and I always found as there was most fish where the stream set in or came out. Now that's deep water, and I'll hold on to the bit of rock here while you chuck in; and if you don't get a bite we'll try somewheres else."

He laid in the oar, and taking the boat-hook had no difficulty in taking hold of the coral, which was only a couple of feet below, and Mark made his first cast right into the running current.

It was a good throw, and he stooped down and picked up the loose rings, to lay them out quite neatly and wind some of the superabundant line about the little frame, when there was a whiz over the side, the line darted out, there was a painful sensation of cutting, a jerk at the lad's arm as if it were about to be dragged out of the socket, and—that was all!

"Well, you hooked him," said Small grimly. "He must have been a big un."

"Big?—a monster!" cried Mark excitedly. "He must have broken the line."

"Haul in and bait again," said Small; and as the line was drawn in it was found that there was no breakage, but the soft metal hook had bent out nearly straight and torn from the fish's mouth.

"It hurt my hand horribly," said Mark as he bent the damaged hook back into position; "but it must have hurt the fish more."

"Sarve him right, my lad!—he was on his way to kill and eat some other fish. That's it. Chuck out again, and this time let him have it easy, and if he's a big one give him time."

The carefully-baited hooks were thrown out again, and before the bait had sunk a couple of feet it was once more seized.

"Sha'n't starve here, my lad!" said Small gleefully.

"Not if we can catch the fish," said Mark, whose fingers were burning with the friction of the line. "I say, Small, is it a crocodile?"

"G'long with you! Crocodile!—no; it's not a very big one."

"But see how it pulls!" cried Mark as the fish continued its rush and would have been off, line and all, some twenty fathoms, if it had not been that the cord was securely fastened to the winder, which was suddenly snatched from the bottom of the boat to fly with a rap against the lad's knuckles.

"Don't you let him go, Mr Mark, sir!" cried Small, who was as excited now as the lad. "Hold on! That's all our braxfusses."

"I'm going to hold on if I can," said Mark between his teeth; "but I shall let him run if he's going to pull me out of the boat."

As he spoke the fish was tugging furiously at the line, drawing the holder's arms out to their full stretch, and actually threatening to jerk him over the side of the boat. Now it rushed to right, now to left, and then made straight once more for the sea, and so full of strength that this time Mark set his teeth, feeling sure that line, hook, or his fingers must give way.

"You'll lose him. I know you will," cried Small, though how the fisherman was to prevent the catastrophe now that he was at the end of the line the boatswain did not say; and while finding fault, after the fashion of lookers-on, it never occurred to him that he might help the capture by letting the boat follow the fish.

Matters then had just as it were reached a climax, when, instead of the line breaking or Mark going over the side, the strong cord, which had been hissing here and there through the water, suddenly grew slack, and the tension was taken off Mark's muscles and mind to give place to a feeling of despair.

"Well, you are a fisherman, sir," growled Small, spitting a little tobacco juice into the water in disgust. "You've lost as fine a fish as was ever pulled out of the sea."

"How do you know?" said Mark, beginning to haul in the line slowly hand over hand. "You didn't see it."

"See it! Why, I see it pull. It was a fine un, and badly as we wants a bit o' fish too. There, haul in sharp and put on a fresh bait."

"It doesn't seem much use," said Mark bitterly. "My hands are quite sore."

"You'll be obliged to let me have a try. Skipper'll come down on me if we don't have something to show when we get back. Ah! there's a nice fish now," he continued, as a great fellow looking like a fifty-pound salmon sprang a full yard out of the water and fell back with a tremendous splash.

"Why, that's him," cried Mark, "and he's on still."

"Hooray! then: get him this time, my lad," cried Small; and it was evident now that, finding its course out to sea checked, the fish had suddenly turned and darted back, swimming toward the boat and causing the slackening of the line, but directly in the hauling it felt the hook it sprang right out of the water and made a fresh rush.

But this was not so powerful a run as the first, and as Mark held on, the fish repeated its manoeuvre and swam toward the boat.

This time Mark was able to haul in nearly half the line before the fish made another dart, but only to be checked, and rush to and fro, forming zigzags through the water, which it varied by a series of leaps clear out.

"You'll lose him, my lad, you'll lose him," grumbled Small at every bound; but the hook was fast in, and Mark instinctively gave line at every rush till the fish grew weary, and was drawn in closer to the boat after the wild dashes, and then, for the seventh or eighth time as it was hauled in, and Mark was prepared for a new dart, and in dread that this time the hook should straighten or break away, the panting creature suddenly turned up and floated upon its side.

"Well hauled," shouted Small. "You have done it this time, my lad."

"Not caught yet!" said Mark. "How are we to get it in the boat?"

"Oh, I'll show you about that," said the boatswain, loosening his hold of the rock, and, watching his opportunity, he gaffed the great fish cleverly with the boat-hook by drawing it into the prize's gills, and the next instant it lay splashing at the bottom of the boat.

"Well done us!" cried Small, as Mark stood gazing down at his prize, a magnificent fish of over forty pounds weight, with brilliant silvery scales double the size of those of a salmon, and all flashing in the morning sunshine.

"What is it?" said Mark.

"Well, I don't rightly know," said Small drily. "'Taint a sole."

"Why, of course not."

"Nor it arn't a salmon, you see, cause it's got all them stickles on its back. Some kind o' shark, I should say. Look at its teeth."

"And you've been to sea all your life, Small, and don't know a shark!" cried Mark. "Why, I know that isn't a shark, or anything of the kind."

"Yes, because you've had books to go at all your life, my boy, while I've been knocking about in ships. Man may learn to be a good sailor, but he don't learn much else aboard ship afore the mast."

"Never mind," said Mark; "the question for us to settle is—Is it good to eat?"

"Just you wait till we've cooked him over the fire," said Small, as he extracted the hook from the fierce jaws. "I'll answer that question then. 'Most anything's good to eat when you're half starved, my lad. I've knowed men eat their shoes. Going to have another try?"

"Yes, I should like to get some more," said Mark; and as soon as the captured fish was laid under the thwart he baited and threw out again.

This time he waited so long that he began to draw in the line, expecting to find the bait gone; but long before it reached the surface it was seized by another ravenous fish, and after a sharp fight this was also got into the boat, proving to be something similar to the other, but only about half the size.

"As I said before, I says it again," said Small oracularly, "we sha'n't starve here."

Mark thought of his words as he paddled ashore—Small cleaning the fish the while and throwing the offal overboard for ground-bait, as he said— when he helped carry the prizes up to the fire in triumph, for there he found that the major had returned, he and Widgeon having quite a load of shell-fish; the men had cut down the cocoa-nut tree, and the nuts were lying on the sand; while the captain and the ladies were back, the former with about a dozen small cockatoos, and the latter with handkerchiefs full of jungle fruit, a good deal of which promised to be valuable.

A large fire of drift-wood and old cocoa-nuts and their husks was burning, making a fierce blaze, before and partly over which the fish were soon roasting on wooden spits, the sailors being particularly handy in obeying orders for anything which they could provide by means of their knives.

The shell-fish soon followed, being ranged round the glowing embers to cook in their shells, and before long there was an odour rising that was little short of maddening to the hungry throng, several of whom directed envious glances at the birds which were hung up in the shade to be prepared for the next meal.

"Well, not so very badly," said the major about half an hour after the fish had been declared done. "I missed my cup of coffee and my dry toast, but I never ate fresher fish; and as to the scalloped gentlemen in their shells, captain, with one exception I never ate anything more delicious. Whether they were oysters, clams, cockles, or mussels, I'm sure I don't know, and what's more, I don't care. I say they were good."

"What was the exception?" said Mrs O'Halloran, smiling, for that lady seemed to bear everything with equanimity, and always proved herself a campaigner's wife.

"The exception, my dear," said the major, "was that spiral gentleman handed to me all hot by friend Mark, who took it sizzling out of the fire with a bit of bent stick held like tongs."

"But I meant that for Miss O'Halloran, sir," said Mark, flushing.

"Then, for what reason, sir, did you try to poison my daughter?" cried the major. "That fish, or mollusc as the naturalists would call it, was undoubtedly something of the whelk family; and if you can only find some of them large enough to cut up in slices, we shall have nothing to ear as to a supply of india-rubber shoe-soles. I've had some experience of contract beef in the army; but that is calves'-foot jelly compared to Mark's whelk."

"I thought it would be a delicacy, sir," said Mark, whose ears were particularly red as he saw Mary laughing.

"And I thought it was a trick," said the major; "so, after wriggling the monster out with my penknife and trying it fairly, I gave it to Mark's dog, and he has looked very unwell ever since."

The major's high spirits, and the calm matter-of-fact way in which his wife and daughter bore their privations, had an influence on the rest of the party, the captain looking less troubled, and Mr Gregory less serious. As for the sailors, they appeared to be quite enjoying themselves and treating the whole as a kind of picnic.

But there was plenty of work to be done, for as soon as the captain had seen to the two wounded men, who were able to talk now feebly, but without a trace of delirium, he began to make his plans, talking the matters over with the major and the mate; while the men, pending instructions, cut off all the cocoa-nut leaves to lay to dry, and gathered plenty of fuel for the cooking fire, whose place Small decided ought to be in a nook among some rocks, where it would be sheltered from the wind, and the rocks would grow heated and help the roasting or baking.

"It is gloriously fine now," the captain commenced by saying; "and one of the first things we ought to do is to provide a kind of hut or shed against the tremendous showers we are sure to have before long."

"My dear Strong," said the major, "I'm ready for anything, from shooting savages to cutting down trees."

"Then take your gun," said the captain, "and shoot a few savages, only keep yourself to the smaller inhabitants of the place, as we are not cannibals."

"Can I have Mark for my game-bearer?" said the major; and the lad darted a grateful look at him.

"I was going to propose that he should take a gun and go with you," said the captain. "He can catch a fish, and the sooner he can shoot us food the better. But be careful, my lad, and don't waste powder."

"I'll drill him," said the major; "and, by the way, would it not be as well to hoist something in the shape of colours on the top of the highest tree one of the men can mount?"

"I had planned that too," said the captain. "I hope our signals will soon be seen; but we must go on as if we expected to be in this place for years."

"That's good policy, my dear Strong," said the major; "so we'll leave you to your work, while we two idlers see what we can find inland. Now, Mark, guns and cartridges, and call your dog. His leg seems to be healing fast."

"Keep a sharp look-out," whispered the captain. "That noise must be made by some uncouth creature, so be on your guard."

"That's why I'm going to have the dog," replied the major; and, leaving the rest all busy over some preparation for the future comfort of the party, the ladies preparing to go fruit-seeking after attending to the wounded men's wants, while Mary collected some large pearl-shell oysters and the halves of the cocoa-nuts for cups and plates, the major and his young henchman set off.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

HOW MARK AND THE MAJOR SAW SIGNS.

Bruff limped up eagerly, and sometimes put down his injured paw, which he had been dressing after nature's fashion by licking it well, and trotted by their side; but it was evident directly that another was to be of the party, for before they had gone fifty yards Jack bounded up and placed himself beside the dog.

The major hesitated for a moment.

"He won't do any harm," he said at last. "Let him come. I say, Mark, my lad, all that was very comic about the little fellow climbing the tree; but do you know, if you took pains I'm sure you might teach him to go up into the leafy crowns and screw the nuts round till they dropped."

"I was wondering whether it would be possible," said Mark eagerly.

"Quite. He is an intelligent little fellow. Try. Now, then, let's take our bearings," continued the major, and he pulled out a pocket-compass. "Don't let's be wearied out in finding our way back when we are tired."

"Which way are we going, sir?"

"That depends, my lad. It is not as we please, but as the jungle allows. You talk as if you were in a country full of roads."

"I forgot," said Mark, changing the position in which he carried his father's double gun.

"First lesson in using a gun," said the major: "either point the muzzle at the ground or up at the sky. It's considered bad manners, Mark, to shoot your companions."

"I—I beg your pardon, sir," faltered Mark. "It was very clumsy of me."

"Not a bit more clumsy than every young fellow is, when he first handles a gun. That's the way. I'm sure you don't want to have to carry me home without a head. Now, then, our easiest route would be to go along the sands at the edge of the cocoa-nut groves; but I propose we strike in beside the first stream or through the first valley we find. Come along."

They followed the beautiful shore line for about five hundred yards, and at a turn came suddenly upon a lovely little stream which offered far better facilities for obtaining drinking water than that from which it had been obtained, and as soon as he saw the spot, the major exclaimed that this was the place for their temporary home.

A cocoa-nut grove, a sandy cove, plenty of nipah-palms ready for making into thatch or wails for their hut, and an abundance of slight young palm-trees like scaffold poles exactly suitable for making their hut or shed.

"We must go back, Mark," said the major. "This is a find that will save them endless trouble."

It seemed a pity to return, as the sun was growing very hot; but they tramped back, and the captain followed when they again started, to decide with Gregory whether it would be a better site.

"Now," said the major, leaving them to their discussion, "you shall try and bring down the first eatable bird we see, and I'll look out for pig or deer."

"Are you going straight inland?" asked Mark.

"No, but just as the open ground beside this stream will let us. I want to get to the high ground and reach the slope of the volcano if we can."

It was not an easy task; for though the jungle was open here in comparison to what it was on either hand, every step of the way was impeded by creepers, awkward roots, patches of moss into which their feet sank, and by the rattan-canes that draped the trees and ran in and out and enlaced them together, as if nature were making rough attempts to turn the edge of the forest into a verdant piece of basket-work.

The heat was great and it was rather exhausting toil, but at every turn the beauties of the place were quite startling to Mark in their novelty. Over the clear sun-spangled stream drooped the loveliest of ferns, whose fronds were like the most delicate lace; while by way of contrast other ferns clung to the boles of trees, that were dark-green and forked like the horns of some huge stag; great masses and clusters, six or seven feet long, hung here and there pendent from the old stumps.

Flowers too were in abundance, but for the most part quaintly-shaped orchids of cream, and yellow, and brown, some among the moss, others clinging to the mossy bark of the trees. But the greatest curiosities of all were the pitcher-plants hanging here and there, some fully suspended, others so large that they partly rested on the moss, forming jungle cups capable of containing fully a pint of water, some of them even more.

The beauties of the scene increased, in spite of each one in which they paused seeming as if it could not be surpassed; for as they penetrated more deeply they not only came upon flowering trees about which tiny sun-birds, whose plumage was a blaze of burnished metallic splendour, whirred, and buzzed, and darted, or probed the blossoms with their beaks, but they found that the island, if island it should prove, was inhabited by endless numbers of gorgeous butterflies.

Great pearly-looking insects, whose wings gleamed with azure reflections, floated calmly down the glades, their wings fully eight inches across. Others were specked and splashed with scarlet, or barred with orange, or dashed with glistening green. Then, as if there was to be no end to the feast of beauty for their eyes, great quick-flying insects came darting among the sunny openings, butterflies with elongated, narrow, and pointed wings similar to those of the sphinx moths of our own land.

Mark could have sat down and watched the various gorgeously-coloured beauties for hours, but theirs was a business task, and he plodded on behind the major, both the monkey and the dog untiringly investigating everything they saw.

But there was no trace of large animal, no sound that suggested the neighbourhood of anything likely to be inimical, while the best test was the fearlessness with which their two companions kept by their sides.

"Ah!" ejaculated the major at last, as a low cooing noise fell upon their ears. "Now for something for dinner! You go first, Mark, and let them have both barrels sharply—one after the other."

"Let what have them?"

"The pigeons. Creep on yonder softly, and you will soon come upon them—a flock of pigeons feeding in one of the trees."

Mark went on as silently as he could, and the major kept back the two animals and waited a minute—five minutes, ten minutes—and then softly followed, to find the lad at the edge of a glade watching a flock of great lavender-hued and feather-crowned pigeons, as big as fowls, feeding in the most unconcerned manner.

The major did not hesitate for a moment, but fired at the spot where the birds were thickest, and again as they rose with whirring and flapping wings in a little flock.

Three went down at his first discharge, two at his second; and Mark started as if he too had been shot.

"You here, sir?" he said.

"Yes. Why didn't you shoot?"

"I forgot to," said Mark hesitatingly; "and I was admiring them."

"Yes, admirable, my young naturalist!" said the major. "But we are sent out here to find food for so many hungry people; and these are glorious eating."

"Yes; I forgot," said Mark, helping to collect the birds, which were tied by the legs and hung over the trunk of a tree, as the stream would act as their guide on their return.

Then going on, the little rapids and falls in the tiny river showed that they must be steadily rising, but at so slow a rate that it soon became evident that, unless the country opened out, they would not reach the mountain that day.

At the end of a couple of hours, though, when they paused to rest and began refreshing themselves with some fruit similar to a large nut, but whose interior contained a couple of kernels imbedded in custard, they found themselves quite upon a hill, with a valley dipping down below along which the streamlet came, and beyond these the mountain-slope rose, so that they had a good view of the cone, with the film of cloud still rising, but looking almost transparent in the bright sunrise.

"There ought to be pigs here," said the major; "but it does not seem as if we shall see any. But look yonder; there's another of those fruit-trees, with pigeons feeding beneath. Go and try now."

Mark hurried on, and threading his way among the trees took a long and careful aim before firing; and, as might be expected, missing. But as luck had it, the flock rose with a tremendous beating of wings and went right over the major's head, giving him an opportunity to get a couple of good shots, with the result that three more of the great pigeons came crashing down.

"I think I hit one," said Mark as he came panting back, to find that the major and Bruff between them had retrieved all three birds.

"Where is it, then?" said the major.

"The smoke got in my eyes, and I could not see whether one fell."

"Take the dog, then, and see if he can find it," said the major, smiling to himself. But after a good search the lad came back hot and disappointed.

"Better luck next time, my boy," said the major. "You are not the only one who did not hit his first bird. Shooting is not so easy as fishing in the sea."

The question now arose whether to go on further or to return. They had obtained eight good weighty birds, and the heat was great; but Mark was so anxious to try and make better use of his piece that the pigeons just shot were hung up similarly to the first, and they proceeded, to find hopeful signs of an abundance of fruit, some of which was familiar to the major from his having encountered it in different parts of the East, while other kinds looked promising enough for testing.

But though a sharp look-out was kept, no other opportunity for a shot presented itself.

The reason was plain enough—they were unable to get along without making a good deal of noise; and though the smaller birds of brilliant plumage paid little heed, the larger, such as might have been used for food, took flight before they got within shot, as they often knew by the flapping and beating of their wings.

They were slowly descending one beautiful slope after carefully taking in some landmarks so as to guide them on their return, when all at once Mark laid his hand upon the major's arm and pointed to an opening in the jungle about a hundred yards away.

"What is it?" said the major sharply. "Ah! that looks bad;" and he pressed Mark back under cover.

"Savages?" whispered the lad.

"I'm afraid so. It's a bad sign and a good sign."

Mark looked at him interrogatively.

"Bad sign if they are a fierce lot like the New Guinea men; good sign if they are peaceable fellows, for it shows that it is quite possible to live here."

The sight which had caught Mark's attention was a thin cloud of vapour rising slowly from among some low bushes, and it was evident that there was a fire and some cooking operation going on.

"Better part of valour is discretion," said the major softly. "Not going to run away, Mark—soldiers can't do that—but we must retire and take up fresh ground, my lad, for your father expressly pointed out to me that we were not cannibals, and that I was not to shoot the human savage. Keep out of sight. Perhaps we had better return."

They backed away softly, the dog following, and the major whispered:

"The mystery is explained, Mark. It must have been one of those interesting gentlemen who made that terrific row. His idea of a cooey, I suppose."

A low growl came from Bruff just then, and they stopped short, the silence being broken by the dick, dick of the major's gun.

They had on retiring gone a little higher up the slope so as to be more among the trees, and the result was that they found themselves at the top of a little ridge and at the edge of the denser growth, so that, as they paused, they could look down into another part where the trees gave place to low bushes and glorious ferns, the whole being a glade of surpassing loveliness, such a spot as might very well be chosen by a party of simple savages for their home.

The major pressed Mark down, and they cowered among the trees, for they were evidently going right in sight of a second encampment.

"Keep the dog quiet if you can, lad," whispered the major, peering among the trees. "Can't see their attap [see note 1] huts, but there are plenty of fruit-trees."