"Have they seen us?" whispered Mark.

"Impossible to say. You go along first between those trees bearing to the right. Stoop. I don't want you to get a notice to quit in the shape of a spear."

Mark obeyed, and went on as swiftly and as silently as he could, so as to reach the path they had made in coming, and to this end he had to quit the denser shade and pass through a clump of foliage plants and flowering bushes of the loveliest hues.

The way seemed easy, and the bushes were not so closely together, but the ferns were enormous, their fronds stretching out in all directions and having to be pressed aside.

"Never mind me," whispered the major, as Mark held an unusually large frond aside. "Bear down more to the right and strike the stream. We mustn't leave those pigeons."

Mark forced his way on, with the growth completely hiding him from his companion, while the heat seemed to be more and more oppressive. It was a dank stewing heat, very different to the scorching of the sun out in the more open parts, and both were longing to get to a spot where they could breathe more freely, when Mark, who was about six yards ahead, leaped down into a little hollow to save himself from a fall, his feet having given way as he trod upon the rotten roots of a large fern.

It was a matter of a few instants, for as the lad alighted he found that it was upon something soft and elastic, and at the same moment there was a disturbance among the undergrowth and a sharp angry hiss.

He bounded back with a faint cry of horror, turned, and taking rapid aim at the spot where he had leaped fired downward.

"Quick! load again," said the major.

"A great serpent," panted Mark, obeying with nervous fingers.

"Killed him?"

"Don't know, sir," said Mark, staring down among the ferns and arums which filled the hole.

"Must have killed him, for he does not move. Squat down. We don't want the savages to see us. They are sure to come."

"Let's run."

"What? The gauntlet? No, thank you, my boy. We are safer here. Hist!"

They crouched there listening for the sounds of the enemy's approach, but all remained silent. Mark could hear his heart beating with excitement, and he found himself wondering why it was that he, with a serpent on one side and savages on the other, was not more alarmed.

"Keep still," whispered the major; "we must hear them directly. What's that?"

"The dog," said Mark in the same low tone, for Bruff had softly crept to their side, looked up in their faces, and lain down.

"Why, hallo!" exclaimed the major, "this isn't natural."

"What?"

"This dog. There can't be any savages on the way; and, what is more, you can't have shot a serpent, or Bruff here would have been excited and routed him out. Did you see the serpent?"

"No, sir; I didn't see it exactly, but you heard it hiss."

"But, hang it all, Mark! You didn't shoot at a hiss, did you?"

"Well, no, sir. I was horribly startled, and shot down at the soft thing upon which I jumped."

"But if you are entrusted with a gun," said the major angrily, "you mustn't take fright and shoot at what you hear and feel, my lad."

"Did you see the savages, sir?" said Mark in self-defence.

"Well, no, but I saw the smoke of their fire; and here, Bruff, fetch him out, boy," he continued, breaking off his speech, and with cocked gun he parted the twigs and fronds cautiously as he stepped down into the hollow from which Mark had fled.

Hiss! hiss! hiss! came sharply from where the major stepped, and he in turn bounded back to Mark's side, falling over the dog, and having some difficulty in recovering himself.

"That's good! I like that," he cried, as, instead of helping him, Mark covered his escape by taking a step forward, and bringing his gun to bear on the spot whence the sounds came.

"Did—did you see it?" said Mark huskily.

"See it! No, my lad. Only that! Look!"

He pointed as he rose to a filmy vapour floating away and dissolving in the sunshine. "You did not see that before because you fired. Don't you see? It's steam."

"Steam!" said Mark.

"Yes. Look here. Give me your hand. I don't want to go through."

He caught Mark's hand and stepped cautiously down, keeping one foot on sure ground, as with the other he pressed and stamped upon a spot that was quite elastic. At every stamp there was a hiss—a sharp, angry hiss and a puff of vapour rose from among the leaves.

"There's your serpent," he said, laughing. "No wonder you did not hit it."

"Then that must be steam we saw over yonder, and not savages' fires."

"Right, my lad. A false alarm. We're in a volcanic land, and if we search about I daresay we shall find hot springs somewhere."

"It can't be very safe," said Mark thoughtfully, as he watched the little puffs of steam rise.

"Not if you jump on a soft place, for there would be no knowing where you went. But come along, I think we've done enough for one day, so let's find our pigeons and get back."

"Where's Jacko?" said Mark, looking round.

"Jack! Last time I saw him he was up a tree eating those sour berries just after I shot the last pigeon. He must have stayed back to feed."

They whistled and called, while, as if comprehending it all, the dog barked; but all was still, and in the hope of finding their hairy companion they now pressed steadily on, passing the tree laden still with a bright purple kind of berry, but there was no sign of Jack.

"He'll return to savage life, safe," said the major. "It is too much of a temptation to throw in his way. Why, Mark, if I were a monkey I think I should."

"I don't think he'd leave Bruff now," replied Mark. "They're such friends that they wouldn't part, and I'm sure my dog wouldn't go."

He glanced down at Bruff as he spoke, and the dog barked at him, and raised his injured paw.

"Well, we shall see," said the major, as they forced their way on. "There's where we stopped to listen for birds," he continued, "and there's the tree upon which I hung the pigeons."

"Where?" asked Mark.

"Yonder, straight before you. There, lad, fifty yards away."

"But I can't see any pigeons," said Mark.

"Not near enough. Let's get on, I'm growing hungry, and beginning to think of dinner, a cigar, a good rest, and a bathe in that delicious-looking sea. By the way, the clouds are gathering about the top of that mountain. I hope we shall have no storm to-night. Why, Mark, the pigeons are gone! I hung them upon that branch."

Mark turned from gazing at the clouds, which seemed to be forming about the cone away to his right, and was obliged to confess that the pigeons were gone.

"Savage, or some animal," said the major, peering cautiously round.

"Would it be a big bird—eagle or vulture?" said Mark. "I saw one fly over."

"Might be," replied the major. "I'm not naturalist enough to say; and if I was, I daren't, Mark, for what a bird will do in one country it will not in another."

Mark stared at him.

"Well, I mean this, Mark, my lad. At home, in England, the kingfishers sit on twigs over the streams, and dive into the water and catch fish. Here, in the East, numbers of them sit on twigs in the forest paths and catch beetles, so there's no knowing what a bird of prey would do in a place like this."

Just then they were close up to the tree, and Bruff set up a joyous barking, which was answered by the chattering of the monkey.

"Why, there's Jack!" cried Mark.

"The rascal, he has got down my pigeons!" cried the major.

Just then a puff of feathers flew up in the air, and the two travellers stepped forward and simultaneously burst into a roar of laughter.

For there, in amongst the undergrowth, sat Jack, his hairy coat, head, arms, and legs covered with feathers, which formed quite a nest about him, and as they came up he chattered away loudly, and went on tearing the lavender plumage out of one of the great pigeons which lay in his lap, and scattering the soft down far and wide.

"Why, he must have seen the birds plucked yesterday," said the major, wiping his eyes, so comical was the monkey's seriously intent aspect, as he kept glancing up at them sharply, and then chattering and peering down at the half-denuded pigeon, his little black fingers nimbly twisting out the feathers, and his whole aspect suggestive of his being a cook in a tremendous hurry.

"There, come along," continued the major; "pick up the birds, Mark."

Easier said than done. There were three, but two, half-picked, had to be hunted out from the heap of feathers, and Jack objected to part with the third, holding on to it tightly till he was pressed back with the stock of the gun, after which the miserable half-picked birds were tied together by the legs and hung over the barrel.

They had no difficulty in finding the rest of the morning's sport, and this done, the first being shouldered by the major, they walked as fast as the nature of the way would allow, back to the shore, unwillingly on Mark's part, for there was always some brilliant bird or insect flitting across their path and inviting inspection.

But this inclination to stay was always checked by the major, who kept on bringing his companion back to the commonplace by uttering the one word, "Dinner!" and this sufficed.

————————————————————————————————————

Note 1. Attap, thatching made of the leaves of a palm—the nipah.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

HOW MARK ENCOUNTERED A SAVAGE.

"We were beginning to think you long," said the captain as they reached the cocoa-nut grove, having found that though there were signs of palm leaves and young trees having been cut by the mouth of the stream this had not been selected as the site of the huts.

"We've been a long way," said the major. "Not empty-handed, you see."

"Splendid," cried the captain; "but you need not have stopped to pick them."

"Thereby hangs a tale," said the major, laughing. "How's Morgan?"

"Much better, and sitting up. There, you see, we've not been idle."

He pointed to a large low hut formed in the cocoa-nut grove by utilising six growing trees as corners and centre-posts, and binding to these thin horizontal poles, freshly cut down for eaves and ridge. Others formed gables, being fixed by the sailors with their customary deftness, thin rattans being used as binding cords. Then other poles had been bound together for the roof, and over these an abundant thatching of palm leaves had been laid and laced on with rattan till there was a water-tight roof, and in addition one end was furnished with palm-leaf walls.

"That will keep us dry if the rain comes," said the captain, after due praise had been awarded for the energy displayed. "But now, quick: have a wash, and we'll dine. Every one is hungry."

Mark's eyes twinkled as he saw the preparations. Palm leaves were spread in two places, but the food supply was the same for all; and if they were going to feed as well during their stay on the island, they felt that they would not have much cause to complain.

Food is so important a matter in our everyday life that, even without being sybarites, one may pause to give an account of the savage banquet prepared in the rock kitchen by the captain's and major's wives, aided by Mary O'Halloran, whilst the rest were busy hunting and building.

There was another fish secured by Small, similar to the one Mark had caught, about two dozen little roast cockatoos, and an ample supply of baked shell-fish. These delicacies were supplemented by plenty of cocoa-nut milk and wild fruit, some of which was delicious.

"I never had a better dinner in my life," said the major. "It has been so good that I never once remembered our heavy fat Goura pigeons, which I had reckoned upon having for a treat."

"I think we ought to compliment the cooks," said the captain. "Poor Morgan quite enjoyed his fish, and Brown says he didn't know cockatoos could taste so good."

"I think we've fallen into a kind of Eden," said Gregory pleasantly. "If we could find some tea-trees or coffee-bushes, and a wheat-field and windmill, we shouldn't want anything more."

"Ah!" said the captain gravely; "we should want a great deal more than those to make up for the loss of civilisation; but let's try and do our best under the circumstances."

"Why, we are doing it," said Mrs O'Halloran with a smile.

"True, madam; and I thank you for your brave, true womanly help, both for the wounded and for my men."

"Thank your wife too, captain," said Mrs O'Halloran gravely.

"She does not need it, madam," said Captain Strong. "It is her duty."

That night passed quite peacefully, the watch hearing nothing of the strange roar. The next day busy hands were at work making a second hut for the men, every one working his best so as to be prepared for the tropical showers, which have a habit of coming on nearly daily; but this day broke gloriously fine, and palm leaves were cut and carried, bamboos discovered and cut down for poles and rafters, and the men worked with such good heart that the second hut towards afternoon began to assume shape.

The ladies were as busy as ever, undertaking the nursing and cooking; but Morgan relieved them of half the former by getting up to seat himself under a shady tree and watch the progress made.

Mark and the major were told off for their former task of finding provisions; and, nothing loth, they started in good time, choosing another route—that is to say, they struck off to the east—going beyond the cooking place among the rocks, meaning to see if any of the great grey pigeons were to be found in that direction by some other pass into the interior.

Their walk was glorious; with the beautiful lagoon on one side, evidently crowded with fish, and the fringe of cocoa-nut trees on their left; while from time to time, as the groves opened, they obtained glimpses of the volcanic cone.

Bruff and Jack took it as a matter of course that they were to belong to the foraging party, and trotted along over the sand, the one eagerly on the search for something that he might hunt, the other with his little restless eyes watching for fruit. But neither met with any reward.

Picking out the firm sand where the tide had gone down the hunters found good walking, and were able to leave the encampment several miles behind without feeling any fatigue, but the game-bags which they had this time slung over their shoulders, remained empty, and the guns seemed to increase in weight.

"I wish we could get right round and prove that this is an island," said the major; "but we must not attempt it to-day. Are these cocoa-nut palms never coming to an end?"

"Let's go through them, and try to reach the foot of the mountain," said Mark at last. "I want to get a supply of something to eat, but I should like to see the mountain close to."

"And go up it and peep in at the crater, eh?"

"Indeed I should, sir."

"Ah, well! we'll see about that; but work first, Mark. We must get a load of birds or a pig."

"Think there are pigs, sir?"

"Can't say. I haven't seen a sign of one yet. If it is a part of some great island we may find deer."

They tramped on, hoping to find a stream, but another two miles were traversed before they came upon a rushing rivulet, gurgling down from among piled-up masses of blackish vesicular rock, which the major at once dubbed scoria.

"Now for a good drink," he said. "I'm thirsty;" and they both lay down to drink from a pool of the loveliest nature, so clear was the water, so beautiful the ferns and other growth that overhung.

But at the first mouthful both rose, spitting it out, and ready to express their disgust.

"Why, it's bitter, and salt, and physicky as a mineral spring," said the major.

"And it's quite hot," said Mark. "Ugh! what stuff!"

It was disappointing, for they were both suffering from thirst; but it was evident that to penetrate the jungle from where they stood would be next to impossible, so craggy and rocky was the ground, while, as after struggling on for about a couple of hundred yards, they found the water grown already so hot that it was almost too much for their hands, they concluded that if they persevered they would find it boiling—an interesting fact for a student of the wonders of nature, but an unsatisfactory matter for a thirsty man.

"What a place for a botanist!" cried the major. "We could fill our bags with wonders; but a good patch of Indian corn would be the greatest discovery we could find now, for, Mark, my lad, we shall find that we want flour in some form."

"Is Indian corn likely to grow here?"

"If some kind friend who has visited this shore has been good enough to plant some—not without."

They stood gazing for a few minutes at the wondrously fertile growth of the plants whose roots found their way to the warm stream, and whose leaves received the steamy moisture, and then climbed slowly back.

"We must explore inland some day, Mark, and see if we can find a hot spring of good water fit to cook in. I must say I should not like my cabbage boiled in that."

"That's better," said Mark as they reached the sand once more, and stood panting.

"Yes; the other's 'pad for the poots,' as a Welsh friend of mine used to say. Now, then, forward to find fresh water and birds. We'll go another mile, and if we don't find a stream we must try for some fruit."

The dog trotted on a little ahead, and, to their great delight, they came to the end of the monotonous fringe of cocoa-nuts and found that quite a different class of vegetation came down close to the shore, which now grew more rocky, and it was not long before they were able to slake their thirst on the pleasant sub-acid fruit of a kind of passion-flower.

A few hundred yards further and Bruff began to trot, breaking into a canter of two legs after one, and suddenly turned into the jungle, to come back barking.

They soon reached the spot, to find that quite a fount of pure-looking water was welling up out of a rock basin, trickling over and losing itself in the sand, while upon a tree close at hand were at least a hundred tiny parrots not larger than sparrows, fluttering, piping, and whistling as they rifled the tree of its fruit.

"Too small for food unless we were starving," said the major. "We shall have to fill our bags with what answer here to cockles and mussels, Mark. We must not go home empty-handed."

"Shall I try the water first?" said Mark.

"No need," said the major, pointing to where, at a lesser pool, Bruff and Jack were slaking their thirst.

The example set by the two animals was followed, and deep draughts taken of the delicious water, which was as cool and sweet as the other spring had been nauseous and hot.

"Now, then; forward once more," said the major. "Just one more mile, and then back, though I believe we could get round, for we must have come so that the huts are quite to the south. Yes; we're travelling north-west now, and when we started we were going north-east."

"Hist! Look!" whispered Mark; and he pointed forward.

"Phew!" whistled the major. "Down, Bruff! To heel!"

The dog obeyed, and cocking their guns, and keeping as close to the trees as the rocky nature of the soil would allow, the two hunters approached the game Mark had pointed out.

Strange-looking birds they were, each as big as a small turkey, and, provided that they were not of the gull tribe, promising to be an admirable addition to the pot.

But though they advanced cautiously, neither the major nor Mark could get within shot, the birds taking alarm and scurrying over the sand rapidly.

They tried again, taking shelter, going through all the manoeuvres of a stalker; but their quarry was too wary, and went off at a tremendous rate, but only to stop when well out of reach and begin digging and scratching in the sand somewhat after the fashion of common fowls.

"It's of no use," said Mark at last, throwing himself down hot and exhausted after they had followed the tempting creatures for fully a mile.

"No use!" said the major. "What, give up! Do you know what Lord Lytton says in Richelieu?"

"No," said Mark wearily; and then to himself—"and I don't care."

"'In the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail.'"

"But then Lord Lytton had not been out here hungry and thirsty, toiling after these sandy jack-o'-lanterns with a heavy gun," said Mark.

"Probably not," said the major. "But, never mind: we may get a shot yet. One more steady try, and then we'll go back."

"Oh, Major O'Halloran, what a man you are to walk!" said Mark, rising wearily.

"Yes, my lad," said the major smiling. "I belong to a marching regiment. Now, look here, Mark; I'm quite sure those birds would eat deliciously roasted, and that the ladies would each like a bit of the breast."

"Let's try, then, once more," said Mark; and they went on, with Bruff dutifully trotting behind waiting for the first shot and the fall of a bird.

But no; as they advanced the birds still went on, running well out of range and stopping again to scratch and feed.

There were about fifteen of them, and the more they kept ahead the more eager grew their stalkers, till after this had been going on for another half-hour Bruff could stand it no longer, but dashed off at full speed, barking furiously, with the result that instead of running off like the wind the birds stopped staring for a few seconds and then all took flight.

"That's done it!" cried the major angrily. "Hang that dog! No: look, Mark!"

"Yes, we may get a shot now," he cried; "they're all in those trees."

"Well, keep close in, and we'll have a try."

They had a couple of hundred yards to go to where Bruff stood barking furiously at the birds, which kept in the moderately high boughs staring stupidly down at him, and so intent upon the beast, so novel evidently to them, that the two hunters had a chance to get close up, and taking his time from the major, Mark fixed the quivering sight of his gun on one of the birds, and drew trigger just as the major fired twice.

As the smoke blew away there was a whirring of wings and three heavy thuds upon the ground.

Away went the birds, but only about fifty yards more, to settle again, Bruff keeping up with them, and again taking their attention by barking furiously.

The manoeuvres of approaching were again successfully gone through, and this time the major whispered:

"Loaded again?"

"Yes."

"Then fire both barrels this time. Try and get a right and left. Fire!"

Their pieces went off simultaneously the first time; then the major's second barrel rang out, and Mark's second directly afterwards, and by sheer luck—ill-luck for the birds—he brought down his first bird from the branch of the tree dead, and in his random flying shot winged one of the others so badly that it fell, and Bruff caught it before it had time to recover and race away.

"Hurrah!" shouted the major as the diminished flock now flew inland over the jungle. "Seven birds, Mark: a load. And you said you couldn't shoot! Why, it's glorious!"

"I'm sure it was accident, sir," said Mark with his cheeks burning.

"Then bless all such accidents say I, a hungry man!"

"Yah!" came faintly from a distance.

"What's that?" cried the major.

"Yah!" came again, or what sounded like it, for to their startled ears it was more like a savage yell.

"Load quickly," cried the major, setting the example. "Savages at last. Now, the birds and a quick retreat. Wonder how heavy they are; but save them I will if I have a stand to defend them, and send you back for help."

Mark caught up his heavy birds and ran back with the major to where the first they had shot lay, while from behind came another yell, and looking over his shoulder Mark saw that a spear-armed figure was coming rapidly in pursuit.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

HOW MARK FOUND SOMETHING THAT WAS NOT GAME.

They had not far to go, but in a hot sun, and with the double guns, ammunition, and the heavy birds, they were panting and in a profuse perspiration.

"Can't do impossibilities, Mark, my lad," cried the major. "We must either run for it without our game, or stop and fight for it."

"Oh!" cried Mark; "we can't leave the birds."

"But you can't fight," cried the major, who, as he spoke, began throwing the great birds behind a clump of rocks.

"But they have taken so much trouble to get," panted Mark.

"And I'm so hungry that I feel like a dog with a bone," snapped the major. "I won't give 'em up without a fight. Come in here, my boy, and I'll have a good try for it. We've plenty of ammunition, and perhaps a peppering with small-shot will scare the blackguards away."

Mark obeyed, and the next moment, with their birds, they were snugly ensconced in a little natural fortification, open to attack only on one side, the others being protected by the rocks and the dense jungle.

This movement took them out of sight of their pursuer, who was hidden now by the trees.

"Now, my boy, lay out some cartridges, and keep down out of sight. You reload, and keep on exchanging guns. I'm a soldier, and will do the fighting. I meant to run and leave our dinner, undignified as it may be; but hang me if I do at the sight of a half-naked savage with a spear."

"But there must be a whole tribe of them behind, sir," whispered Mark.

"Yes; that's the worst of it. But never mind, I'll pepper their skins, and perhaps that will stop them. But look here, my boy, if matters begin to look very ugly you are not to hesitate for a moment."

"Yah!"

A pause.

"Yoy-oy-oy-oy!"

This last in a different tone, but both yells were of a most savage, highly-pitched nature.

"Another of them," whispered the major; and then, as the sounds were repeated faintly a long way off, "There's the main body coming on. Mark, my lad, never mind me. I didn't know what I was saying before. Here, shake hands, and God bless you, boy! I don't suppose I shall hurt. Run for it at once, and I'll cover your retreat."

Mark sprang up, placed one foot on the rocks, shook hands with the major, and in his excitement and dread, as another yell rang out much nearer, gathered himself up to spring clear of the rough scoria that lay about, and then turned sharply round and leaped back in his place.

"What now?" cried the major sharply.

"Who's to reload if I go?" said Mark hoarsely; and he looked very white.

"I can, boy. Quick! there's no time to lose."

Mark hesitated for a few moments. On the one side seemed to be safety; on the other, perhaps death from a set of spear-armed savages. Then he ground his teeth, and stood fast.

"Well, why don't you go?"

"I won't be such a coward," cried Mark in a hoarse whisper.

"It is no cowardice to retreat," cried the major, "when your superior officer gives the word."

"You're not my superior officer," said Mark between his teeth. "What would my father say?"

"That you obeyed orders."

"He wouldn't," growled Mark. "He'd call me a contemptible cur. So I should be if I went. How could I face Mrs O'Halloran and Miss Mary again?"

The major seemed to choke a little, and he gave quite a gasp, whilst certainly his eyes were suffused with tears as he cocked his gun and turned upon Mark.

"I order you to go, sir," he said. "Run for it while there's time."

"I won't," cried Mark fiercely. "I'm going to stop and load the guns."

The major gave a long expiration, as if he had been retaining his breath, but said nothing, only laid his gun-barrel ready on the natural breastwork of rock before him, waved Mark a little way back into shelter, and then stood ready as the beat of feet on the sand was plainly heard, accompanied by a hoarse panting as of some one who had been running till quite breathless.

Then from just round behind some intervening branches which grew out broadly by the projecting rocks there came another hoarse yell.

"Yah!"

There was a pause, and from the distance an answering cry.

Then a terrible silence. The steps had ceased, but the hoarse panting continued, and for the moment Mark was in hopes that their concealment might prove effectual, and the savages pass on, and to aid this he bent down softly to make a threatening gesture at Jacko, and to hold Bruff's muzzle tightly closed as the pair lay on the birds, among whose feathers Jack's fingers were already busy.

The major had evidently caught the idea, and he too drew back, when once more came the terrible yell, and the keen point and half a dozen feet of the lance dropped into sight, while through the leaves which partially concealed him they could make out a portion of the figure of the savage.

The silence now was terrible, and Mark held his breath, hardly daring to breathe, in dread lest the major should fire, for he could have laid the man lifeless without raising the gun to his shoulder.

Then all at once, in the midst of the hot stillness of that tropic land, with the blue sea lying calm beyond, the sparkling creamy foam where the ocean pulsated on the coral-reef, there came a hideous screech and the swift beat of wings.

Startling enough, but only the cry of a passing parrot, and the sound had hardly died away when the point of the spear was slowly raised, and disappeared behind the trees.

Then once more came the loud yell.

"Yah!" and its repetition three times, now telling of the savages being scattered. And then—

"Oh, dear! oh, dear! Where can they be got to? I'm sure I saw 'em come by here."

"How—how—how—how!" burst out Bruff, and shaking his head free he leaped out, followed by Mark and the major, to confront their spear-armed enemy, about whom the dog was leaping and fawning.

"Why, Jimpny," cried Mark, "is this you?" as he caught the stowaway's hand.

"You scoundrel!" roared the major. "You frightened us, and—no, you didn't quite frighten us," he said, correcting himself, "but we thought you were a savage!"

"So I am, sir," whimpered the man. "Look at me."

He did look one after a fashion as he stood there, Malay spear in hand, his only garment being a pair of canvas trousers whose legs had been torn-off half-way above his knees. For he was torn and bleeding from the effects of thorns, his skin was deeply sunburned, and a fillet tied about his head, stained red with blood, kept back his tangled hair, while his eyes had a wild and scared look.

"Well, it was excusable to think you one," said the major.

"But how came you here?" cried Mark excitedly.

"I don't know, sir," whined the man, piteously. "I've been mad, I think. I believe I'm mad now; and I was just telling myself that it was another of the dreams I had while I was so bad from this chop on the head; and that I had only fancied I saw you two shooting, when old Bruff barked and came out."

"You've been wounded then?"

"Yes, sir, badly, and off my chump."

"But how?"

"One of those Malay chaps gave me a chop on the head with his sword, sir; and I fell down on the deck and crawled right forward down by the bowsprit and lay between some ropes and under an old sail, and then I got mixed."

"Mixed?" said the major.

"Yes, sir; I was so bad I didn't know which I dreamed and which was real, only it seemed that there was a lot of fighting and shooting and yelling."

"You didn't dream that," said Mark sadly.

"I'm glad of that, sir; but I suppose I dreamed that the Malay chaps made the sailors go over the side into one of the boats and row away."

"That must be quite true," said the major gravely.

"But I was very much off my head, sir, and so weak and thirsty. I know I didn't dream about the fire though, for the ship was afire."

"Yes," said Mark; "the poor Petrel!"

"It was very horrid, gentlemen; for as I lay there I couldn't speak nor move, only look up at the glare and blaze and sparks, and from where I lay, afraid to stir in case they should chuck me overboard, I saw those savage chaps go over the side and leave the ship; and then there was a blow-up, or else it was before—I don't know, for I was all in a muddle in my head and didn't know anything, only that it was getting hotter and hotter; and at last I was in a sort of dream, feeling as if I was going to be roasted."

"How horrible!" cried Mark.

"Yes, sir, it was horrid, for the masts ketched fire and burned right up, and the great pieces of wood kept falling on the deck, and ropes were all alight—and swinging about with the burning tar. I didn't dream all that, for I see the big mast blazing from top to bottom, and it fell over the side; and then the others went, and the spars was on fire, and the booms at the sides. And at last, as the fire came nearer and nearer, sir, I knew that if I lay there any longer I should be burned to death, and I thought I'd move."

"And very wisely," said the major.

"Yes, sir; but I couldn't," said the stowaway. "I wanted badly, and tried and tried, but I was much too weak. And that's what made it seem like a dream; for the more I tried to creep out from under the sail, the more I lay still, as if something held me back. And all the time there was a puddle of melted pitch bubbling and running slowly toward me. My face burned and my hands were scorched, the wood was crackling, and the pitch rising up in blisters. And if the smoke had come my way I couldn't have breathed; but it all went up with the flames and sparks. But the heat—oh, the heat!"

"And you couldn't crawl out?"

"No, sir; couldn't move—couldn't raise a hand; and I lay there till I couldn't bear it no longer, and tried to shriek out to the Malay chaps to come and put me out of my misery, for I wanted to die then; and I'd waited too long, for I couldn't even make a sound."

"And what happened next?" asked Mark, for the man had ceased speaking.

"Dunno, sir. One moment it was all fiery and scorching, the next I seemed to go to sleep like, and didn't feel any more pain till I woke."

"Till you woke?" said the major.

"Well, yes, sir. It was like waking up, to find it was all dark, and the wind blowing, and the rain coming down. Then the sea was roaring horribly; and after lying perished with cold there and helpless for a long time, I suppose I went to sleep again. Oh, dear me!"

The major and Mark exchanged glances, for the poor fellow put his hand to his head and stared about him for a few moments as if unconscious of their presence.

"But you got safe to land?" said Mark at last.

"Eh?"

"I say you escaped," said Mark.

"Did I, sir?"

"Yes, of course. You are here."

"Oh, yes—I'm here, sir! but I don't know hardly how it was."

"Can't you recollect?"

"Yes, I think I can, sir, only my head's so tight just now. I think this handkerchief I tied round when it bled does it, but I'm afraid to take it off."

"Wait a bit and we'll do that," said the major kindly.

"Will you, sir? Thank ye, sir."

"But how did you get ashore?" said Mark.

"In the ship, sir. I suppose the rain and the waves must have put out the fire, and what's left of her went bumping over rocks and knocking about, making my head ache horribly till I went to sleep again; and when I woke it was all bright and fine, and the half-burned ship close to the sands in shallow water, so as when the tide's down you can walk ashore."

"The ship here?"

"Yes; round there, sir," said the poor fellow wearily. "There's some half-burned biscuit in her, and I've been living on that and some kind of fruit I found in the woods when I could get ashore. I brought this thing for a walking-stick."

"Then the ship is ashore here?" cried the major joyfully.

"Yes, sir; but she's not good for anything but firewood," said the stowaway sadly.

"Ah! we shall see about that," said the major. "I'm glad you've escaped, my lad."

"And has everybody else, sir?" said the man.

"No, not everybody," said Mark; "but my father and the ladies and the officers are safe."

"Don't say as Billy Widgeon isn't saved, sir," cried the man piteously.

"No, because he is," replied Mark.

"That's a comfort," said the stowaway.

"Look here, my man," said the major, "how far is it to the ship?"

"I don't know, sir. I'd come a long way when I heard guns, and walked on till I saw you; and I thought I should have dropped when I lost sight of you again."

"Ah, you're very weak," said the major.

"'Taint only that, sir; for it's enough to frighten a man to death or send him mad to be all alone here in a place like this."

"Why, it's a very beautiful place, Jimpny."

"Yes, sir, to look at; but as soon as you go into the woods to find fruit there's things flies at you, and every now and then in the night there's a great bull roaring thing that makes a horrid noise."

"Indeed!" said the major, exchanging glances with Mark.

"Yes; something dreadful, sir."

"Ah, well! we needn't talk about that now," said the major. "We will not go on to the ship, but get back to camp—eh, Mark?"

"Yes, sir: the news will be glorious," cried Mark.

"And what are you going to do?" said the major drily. "Go back to the ship?"

"Go back to the ship, sir!" cried the stowaway wildly. "No, no, sir! Pray don't leave me alone! I can't bear it, sir—I can't indeed—it's too awful! Mr Mark, sir, don't let him leave me! Say a kind word for me! I'd sooner lie down and die at once!"

He flung himself upon his knees, the spear falling beside him on the sand, as he joined his hands together and the weak tears began to stream down his cheeks.

"Get up!" said the major roughly, "and act like a man. Don't be such a whimpering cur!"

"No, sir, please, sir, I won't, sir; but I'm very weak and ill, sir. Take me with you, please, sir, and I'll do anything you like, sir."

"Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," said the major sharply, "for thinking that two English gentlemen would be such brutes as to leave a sick and wounded man alone in a place like this. Eh, Mark?"

"Yes, sir," said the lad, flushing at being called an English gentleman. "But he is very weak and ill."

"That's it, sir—that's it," cried the man piteously. "You will take me, then?"

"Of course. Come along," said the major. "Confound that monkey!"

For, while they had been intent upon the man's account of his escape, Jack had been busy covering himself with feathers, as he plucked away at first one and then another of the birds.

"Ah! would you?" cried the major as Jack chattered fiercely upon the bird being taken from him, and then retreated behind Bruff.

"I'll carry those, sir," said Jimpny. "I'll take that too. Would you lend me a handkychy or a bit o' string, Mr Mark, sir, to tie their legs together, and then I can carry the lot over my shoulder, some before and some behind."

"Fore and aft," said Mark, taking a piece of fishing-line from his pocket.

"Yes, sir, that's it," said the man; "but I can't never recollect those sailors' words.

"That's your sort," he continued cheerfully, as the birds' legs were securely tied, and as he knelt on the sand he got them well over his shoulder, got up slowly by a great effort and essayed to start, then reeled, and recovered himself, reeled again, and fell headlong with his load.

He raised himself slowly to his knees, and looked pitifully from one to the other, and then at his load.

"I'm no good," he said in a whimpering tone. "I never was no good to nobody, and I never shall be."

"Bah! stuff!" cried the major. "Here, untie them, and tie two, two, and four together, Mark. I'll take four, and you a pair each."

"Let's make Bruff carry two," said Mark, as soon as the birds were freshly disposed, and hanging a pair pannier fashion over the dog's back, leaving thus a pair apiece, they started, after a vain attempt on the part of the stowaway to obtain permission to carry four.

Bruff protested at first, and seemed to consider it to be his duty to lie down and get rid of his load; then when it was replaced, with stern commands to him to carry it, he took upon himself to consider that it must be carried in his jaws, when Jack bounded to his side and began to pick out the feathers.

But after a little perseverance the teachable dog bore his load well enough, and the little party trudged back over the firm sand. They made a pause by the clear water for refreshment and then went on again, but only slowly, for the stowaway was very weak and the heat great, while it was piteous to see the brave effort he made to keep up with his load. This at last was plainly too much for him, and he was relieved, Mark and the major taking it in turns.

But even then it was all the poor fellow could do to keep on walking, and the journey back proving longer than they had imagined, it was night and quite a couple of miles away when Jimpny broke down.

"I don't mind, gentlemen," he said; "I shall be so near the camp that I sha'n't mind."

"Near the camp!" cried the major; "why, we are nearly an hour's walk away."

"Yes, sir; but that can't matter now. I know that there's someone in the place and that my trouble's over, so I can lie down here in the soft sand and go to sleep till morning, and then I shall be able to come on."

"Here, Mark," said the major decisively, "pick out a comfortable spot somewhere. Here, this will do—by this point. We'll settle down here. Leave the birds, my lad, and go on with the dog. Ask the captain to send three men to help us back into camp. I'll stay with Jimpny till they come."

"No, no, sir. I shouldn't like that," said the stowaway.

"Let me stay with him, sir," cried Mark; and after a great deal of arguing it was finally decided that Mark should stay, and selecting a hollow beneath some jutting masses of rock where the sand lay thick, the stowaway was helped to his natural couch, the birds were thrown down, and after another brief argument, in which Mark declared he should feel far more nervous in going alone along the shore than in stopping, the major started off on his journey in search of help.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOW JACK DID NOT APPRECIATE A STORM.

The night was intensely dark, not one star shining, and before many minutes had elapsed after the major's steps had died away the face of Mark's companion was invisible, and he could not help a sensation of awe invading his breast as he felt how absolutely alone they were, and this made him realise more fully the feelings of the stowaway, wounded and faint, and believing himself entirely alone in that desert place.

But the darkness seemed to trouble no one else, for after saying a few words about its being a shame and that he could never forget it, Jimpny fell off at once into a deep sleep, his hard breathing telling its own tale; while Bruff and Jacko obtained a delicious couch by scratching away some of the dry sand and making pillows of the birds.

More and more, as he listened to the breathings of his companion, Mark began to suffer from the horror of thick darkness. For to quote the familiar old term he could not see his hand before his face. Out by the edge of the lagoon, where a slight ripple was phosphorescent, it might have been possible, but there, beneath the shadow of the rocks, nothing could be seen.

All was wonderfully still, not so much as a whisper could be heard of night bird or animal astir. Once he thought he heard a querulous cry far out on the shallow sea-washed shore such as a wading bird might make, but it was not repeated, and at last he found himself listening, with his heart beginning to beat heavily, for the terrible roaring sound, and the more he tried not to think about it the more the thoughts would come, till at last he felt sure that he could hear something moving in the jungle. Then again all was still, and though he had been in momentary expectation of hearing the awe-inspiring roar, it did not come, and he grew a little more calm, telling himself that he had nothing to fear, and wondering why he could not lie down and rest there as peacefully as the animals by his side, who were sleeping happily enough and troubling themselves not in the least about darkness or danger.

All at once, after wondering how long it would be before the party came from camp, and making up his mind to be very watchful so that they should not pass him in the darkness, there was a vivid light, which showed the sand, the glistening sea, and the distant line of breakers quite plainly, followed at the distance of time of quite a minute by a low muttering roar which seemed to make the air quiver and the earth shake.

Then all was black again for a time, during which, with the sensation of drowsiness which had been slowly coming on completely driven away, Mark sat and watched for the next flash of lightning, and before long it came, displaying the shapes of the clouds which overhung the sea.

It was worth watching, for anything more grand could not be conceived. One moment everything was of a velvety blackness, then in an instant came the flash, the sky seemed to be opened to display the glories beyond of golden mountain, vivid blue sea, and lambent yellow plain. In the twinkling of an eye the sky closed again, and the darkness was more dense than before, while, as Mark sat thinking of the wonderful contrast between lying in his bed at home in North London and being there, once more came the deep, booming, heavy, metallic thunder.

Again a pause, with the three sleepers breathing regularly. Mark was weary, his legs and back ached, and there was a suggestion of a blister on one heel; but he felt no inclination now to sleep, and lay there upon his chest listening for the dull sound of footsteps on the sand in company with the murmur of voices.

Who would come? he asked himself. Mr Gregory and two men, or Small? He came to the conclusion that it would be Small, and at times he almost fancied that he heard the distant murmur of the boatswain's deep rough voice.

Then came another flash more vivid than ever. And this time it was as he turned in the direction where Jimpny lay sleeping. The result was that he saw the poor fellow's swarthy panic-stricken countenance, and the dog and the monkey snuggled up together as comfortably as they could make themselves; and they did not even start as a tremendous peal of thunder broke, seeming as if it would shake the rocks down above their heads.

Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the silence by contrast was awful.

Another flash, and while it was quivering in the air the thunder came with one sudden instantaneous crash as if some magazine of powder had been exploded, while after the first burst the peal rolled round and round and slowly died away, as if it were passing along vast metallic corridors to be emptied far away in space.

As Mark sat listening to the dying away of the thunder and watching for the next flash, comparing the noise with that which he heard from the jungle, and wondering why the one should be looked upon as a matter of course while the other caused the most acute horror, he became aware of a strange hissing sound, apparently at a great distance, but evidently coming on rapidly. The sound increased till, from a hiss it became a rush, then by rapid degrees a tremendous roar, and then, as if in an instant the hurricane was upon them, the rain came down in sheets, the sound swept by the rocks, and as the lightning flashed Mark became aware of the fact that the air looked thick and dense and as if filled by the spray from off the sea.

But the storm swept over from behind, so that though the water poured down from all round the rock beneath which they were sheltered none was driven in.

To sleep was out of the question had the watcher felt disposed, for he was bound to confess that it was impossible for help to come to him in the midst of such a terrific deluge. Meanwhile as the rain came down in a veritable water-spout, hissing angrily as if a myriad of serpents were in the air, the lightning flashed and the thunder roared so incessantly that it became almost a continual peal.

At the best of times, and in company, the storm would have been attended by feelings of awe; but now, comparatively speaking, alone in that solitude with the deafening din and the terrible weird glare of the lightning flashing through the rain, Mark could not help for the second time that day a strange feeling of dread come upon him with chilling force.

Just when the storm was at its worst there was a soft whining sound on his right, and as he sat up and listened in that direction a cold nose touched his hand, and Bruff thrust his head into his master's lap, uttering a low snuffling sound indicative of content.

Almost at the same moment, as the thunder paused for a moment, came a whimpering chattering from his left, and a little thin hand caught hold of him.

"Why, Jack, old fellow, frightened?" he said, as he passed his arm round the human-looking little animal.

"Chick, chack!" cried Jack, and accepting the invitation he huddled up close to Mark's breast, tucking his nose under his arm, and directly after the lad could feel that both the thin little arms were clinging to him tightly.

"No wonder I feel a bit afraid," he said to himself, "if they wake up and come to me for protection."

And with something of a warm glow at his heart as he felt himself occupying the position of protector, he sat there waiting for the storm to cease, the danger dying out of his mind, his head drooping down upon his chest, and at last Mark and his two strange bed-fellows were fast asleep, with the thunder roaring to them its deep-toned lullaby till it slowly died away.

Bruff was the first to wake and begin barking loudly, for Mark to start up in wonder, perfectly ignorant of where he was. It was as dark as ever, but the rain had ceased, the lightning merely flashed now and then, and there was a delicious sensation of cool freshness in the air which came most gratefully to the senses.

"Where am I?" thought Mark, "and what does this mean?" for he had been awakened by the dog's barking from one of those heavy dreamless sleeps where the mind refuses to open and take in facts as quickly as do the eyes.

The dog barked again more loudly than ever and now rushed from out of the shelving rocks.

"Mark, ahoy! Where are you, lad?"

"Here, father, here!" he shouted, but still wondering what it meant, till he heard the loud thud of approaching feet coming through the darkness, and once more there was a hail.

"Where away, lad?"

Mark ought to have answered, "Three points on your port-bow," but he was not well up in nautical terms in this, his first voyage, and so he simply cried out, "Here!"

The result was that in a few minutes the captain, Small, and Billy Widgeon came feeling their way into the hollow.

"Are you all right, my boy?"

"Yes, father."

"How dark it is! We were afraid we should miss you. Strike a light, Small, and let's see."

The boatswain struck a match, and while the thin splint burned there was time for the position of all to be observed, and Billy Widgeon immediately placed himself alongside of Jack.

"We started to come to your help directly the major came into camp," said the captain, "but we were driven to take shelter till the storm was over. I don't believe I was ever in such a downpour before."

"How long did you have to wait?" asked Mark, who felt guilty at having been to sleep.

"Six hours at least," said the captain. "It must be very nearly morning. How is Jimpny?"

"He has been fast asleep all the time."

"Well, then, we will not wake him," said the captain. "It is so intensely dark that we shall have difficulty in getting him home, and it can't be very long to-day."

It was longer than the captain thought, but he sat chatting about how busy they had been setting up the second hut and improving the first, besides making preparations for their home becoming permanent.

"The ship will supply us with endless useful things," he said, "even if much of the cargo is burned. This man has again proved himself a treasure, Mark, for it might have been a long time before we had explored far enough to enable us to find the hull."

"When shall you go to see it, father?" asked Mark.

"To-day, my boy. We'll get back to camp and have a good breakfast and then start. By the way, the major says you have got some capital birds."

"Eight, and they are bigger than fowls. Curious-looking things, with a sort of helmet on their heads."

"I think I know them," said the captain, "a sort of brush-turkey, I expect, the maleo birds I think they are called, and they are splendid eating. I don't think we shall starve, my lad."

"Day!" said Mark eagerly, pointing to a faint gleam away to his right.

"Yes; the first touch of dawn. I think we may prepare to go now. Get together the birds, my lads."

Widgeon and Small obeyed, finding them already tied, and slinging them over their shoulders.

"Now, Mark, wake up your companion," said the captain. "He ought to be able to walk after eight hours' rest."

Jimpny started into wakefulness at a touch, and on being spoken to answered, in a vacant wandering way, something about the fire and wanting his spear; but the day was rapidly coming round, and the faces of those in the shelter of the rocks growing visible.

"What's the matter?" said the stowaway suddenly. "Have they got off the bales and boxes.—No, I—I—is that you, Mr Mark?"

"Yes, all right, Jimpny. Had a good sleep?"

"Yes, I think so. I—I'm not quite awake. Yes, I recollect now."

"Can you walk a couple of miles or so, my lad?" said the captain.

"Yes, sir; yes, I can walk," said the stowaway; "but there are some birds here. Let me help carry the birds."

"No, no; they're all right, my lad," said Small. "You carry yourself. That's enough for you to do. Ready, sir."

"Come along, then," said the captain; and he led the way out into the delicious early morning with the light growing rapidly now and showing the trees laden with moisture, whose only effect upon the sand had been to beat it down into a firm path, so that they would have been able to go rapidly had it not been for the weakness of the stowaway.

"Better when I've had some breakfast," he said feebly. "Been a bit bad, sir. Soon get well, though, now."

He did not look as if he would, but there was plenty of the spirit of determination in him, and he plodded on till they came in sight of the grove where the huts had been set up, and there in the first beams of the morning sun the ladies could be seen anxiously on the look-out for the lost ones, while, to mingle matter-of-fact with sentiment, there, from among the rocks rose up in the glorious morning the thin blue smoke of the so-called kitchen fire, telling of what was to follow after the welcome—to wit, a good breakfast of fruit and freshly-caught fish, with other delicacies, perhaps, by way of a surprise.

Safely back, and the night's anxieties soon forgotten in the light of the sun, the storm having made everything seem bright, and by comparison peaceful and calm.

"Now, Mark," said the captain after the refreshing sensation consequent upon a good bathe and a hearty meal, "you will be too tired to go in search of the ship to-day."

To which Mark gave a most emphatic "No," and declared himself quite ready for the start.



CHAPTER THIRTY.

HOW MARK SAW THE SEA-SERPENT.

"He's about the most misfortnatest chap as ever was born, Jimpny is," said Billy Widgeon. "He do get it bad and no mistake, allus."

For the stowaway had been at once taken up to the hospital, as the shady spot under the cocoa-nut trees had to find him lying there looking already quite another man. Kindly hands had been busy with water and bandages; he was decently clothed, and the feverish haunted look had gone out of his eyes, as he lay chatting with the sailors under a capital shedding of palm leaves and bamboos, which had been rigged up just in time for the storm, and which, like the other huts, had proved fairly water-tight.

"Oh yes, Mr Mark, sir, I'm a-getting on splendid now," he said. "This is a deal better than being aboard."

It was an understood thing that the party should start at once so as to have a long day for the search for the ship, and they had just prepared to start well armed for defence and to obtain fresh supplies of birds when Mark got back to the men's hut. The captain was loth to leave the camp, but most eager to see the ship, so it was decided that the major should remain and Mr Gregory be the captain's companion, Billy Widgeon and another man being appointed to the party.

"Good luck to you!" said the major. "We'll defend the camp, and have a splendid dinner of roast turkey ready when you come back. By the way, Mark, show them how to shoot these maleo birds. You will not run after them again as we did."

"No; I shall know better now," he replied; and, after another glance round at the arms, they were just setting off when an idea struck the lad.

"I say, father," he exclaimed; "it's going to be a very hot day, and all along by the side of those trees and rocks you get hardly a breath of air."

"I suppose not," said the captain drily.

"And after a time the guns get very heavy to carry."

"Very," said the captain.

"And the maleo birds are regular lumps, if we shoot any."

"So I suppose, my boy. There, don't beat about the bush. We can find our way, of course. You are tired with yesterday's exertions, so why don't you frankly say that you would rather stay?"

"But I wouldn't rather stay, father. I only thought it would be much pleasanter to ride."

"Ah, to be sure!" said Mr Gregory grimly, and with a sarcastic smile. "Widgeon, run round the corner and call a couple of hansom cabs."

The men laughed and Mark flushed up.

"Couldn't we ride as well in a boat as in a hansom cab, Mr Gregory?" he said.

"Done!" cried Gregory, giving his leg a slap. "Here, captain, we had better take second grades. Of course: why not row round?"

"Why not, indeed?" said the captain smiling. "I daresay we can keep in the smooth lagoon all the way; and when we cannot, we can land and continue afoot. Did you notice the water, Mark?"

"Yes, father; it was exactly like this all the way, only, I think, the line of breakers comes in nearer."

"Here, launch the boat, my lads," cried the captain; and she was run down, the guns, ammunition, and provisions placed in the stern, and ten minutes later they were all riding easily over the blue waters of the smooth lagoon, the men bending to their oars, tiring their arms perhaps, but saving their legs, as the gig ran easily over the bright surface.

It was a glorious ride, and they had not gone twenty yards before there was a rush along the sands and then a plunge as Bruff came swimming after them; while Jack, chattering loudly, came cantering down toward the edge of the water, and then ran along the sands.

"We may as well take him in," said the captain; and giving orders for the men to cease pulling, they waited till Bruff came alongside, Billy Widgeon receiving orders to help him in at the bows, where he was allowed to have his customary shake and go off like a water firework as the drops flew in all directions, glittering in the sun.

"Now, men, give way again," said the captain.

The men obeyed rather unwillingly, and Jack, who was being left, ran along by the edge of the water shrieking and chattering to be taken with them, Bruff answering with a burst of barks.

"He'll soon go back," said Gregory.

Billy Widgeon looked appealingly at Mark.

"Let's have him with us, father; he'll be quiet enough."

"But I want to get on, my lad."

"Begging your pardon, sir," said Billy Widgeon respectfully; "me and my mate here's willing, and he won't weigh heavy in the boat."

"Run in and take him," said the captain shortly; when one man backed, the other pulled, the bows of the gig were run in to the sand; and Jack leaped on board, chattering in duet with the dog's excited fit of barking; after which, as they continued their way, Bruff seemed disposed for a gambol; but Jack was decidedly stand-offish, from the fact that he was comfortably dry, while the dog was most unpleasantly wet.

They soon settled down, however, and the journey continued, with the shore presenting a succession of lovely pictures which could be enjoyed from the boat far more than while trudging over the sand. Groves of cocoa-nut trees, and beyond them the dense green of the jungle, with, as they progressed, piled-up rocks, black, dark-brown, and glorious with parasitical and creeping growths.

Then every here and there, through some opening where the trees were a little lower, glimpses of the conical mountain appeared, always with the film of vapour hanging about its point, and inviting an ascent to see what wonders it had to show.

When weary of gazing at the shore there was a submarine forest to inspect beneath them where the sea-weed waved and the corals and other sea-growths stood up in the tiny valleys and gorges which the rock displayed. Sea-anemones waved their tentacles as they looked like tempting flowers which invited the tiny fish and crustaceans to inspect their beauties, and at the slightest touch of one of these waving petals fell paralysed, or were drawn into the all-absorbing mouth that took the place of the nectary in a flower.

Every stroke of the oars, too, sent the brilliant little fish scurrying away in shoals—fish that were gorgeous beyond description, and were to the water what the sun-birds were to the air.

All at once the men ceased rowing and allowed the boat to stop.

"What is it?" said the captain.

Billy Widgeon, who had been looking out seaward, pointed with his oar to something glistening on the top of the water, and then, giving a whispered hint to his companion, the latter gave one sturdy tug at his oar and then raised it and let the boat glide on, curving in a semicircle toward the object on the water.

"A sea-serpent!" whispered Mark.

"Yes, and a real one," said Gregory as they all watched the creature lying basking and evidently asleep in the hot sunshine.

Setting aside its shape, which always seems repellent, it was beautiful in the extreme, being marked with broad bands of orange upon a purple ground; and as it lay there on the blue water it seemed hard to believe that it could be dangerous.

"We're not on a collecting expedition," whispered the captain, taking up his gun; "but I should like to have that to show to people who say there are no serpents in the sea. What's that, Gregory—ten-feet long?"

"Twelve at least. Aim at his head."

He was too late, for the captain's piece was already at his shoulder, and as he drew trigger the charge struck the serpent about a third of its length from the head, making it heave up out of the water, while a convulsion ran through it, and then it lay motionless upon the surface.

"Dead!" cried Mark excitedly; and he made a dash to check Bruff, but too late, for the dog plunged over the side and swam towards the serpent.

"Stop him, Billy!" cried Mark; and the little sailor, who had laid in his oar and stood ready with the boat-hook, made a snatch at the dog's collar, but did not succeed in gaffing him, and Bruff swam on.

"It's dead, Mark," said the captain; and then, more quickly than it takes to describe it, Bruff made a snatch at the nearest portion of the snake—its tail—caught it in his teeth, and was in the act of turning to drag it after him back to the boat, when there was a rush in the water, the creature heaved itself up, and quick as lightning threw itself round the dog, and they saw its head raised and darted down at the dog's neck.

Instantaneously as it had constricted poor Bruff, it untwined itself as rapidly; and as in his wonder and alarm Bruff uttered a furious bark, he unloosed his hold upon the slimy creature's tail, before he could recover from his surprise and make a fresh attempt at seizure the serpent had dived and was gone.

"Did you see the snake strike him?" said the captain.

"Yes; and they are terribly poisonous."

"Said to be," said the captain, "but I never knew anyone bitten."

"I have," said the mate in a low voice, "two cases; and both people died."

"Call the dog on board," said the captain; and in obedience to his master's call the dog swam alongside and was hauled in, to stand barking with his paws resting on the bows after his regular shake.

They all looked hard at the dog, but his only concern seemed to be as to where the serpent had gone; and that was very evident, for as the water grew quiescent they could see it about eight feet below them swimming slowly with an undulating motion in and out among the weeds and corals, apparently none the worse for having been perforated with small-shot.

"Couldn't we get it?" said Mark, glancing at the boat-hook.

"No," said his father decisively; "and even if we could, I think we are better without its company. Go on."

The oars dipped again and the boat glided rapidly over the calm waters, while Mark spent his time between gazing at the beauties of the shore, with its many changes, rocky points, and nooks, and watching Bruff, who exhibited no signs of suffering from the venom of the serpent's bite.

It was a long pull for the men, and from time to time the captain and mate exchanged places to give them a rest; but it was far more easy for all than toiling over the heated sands, while, as far as they could judge, there seemed every probability of their being able to row on as far as they liked, the broad canal-shaped lagoon being continued right onward—the reef of coral only varying a little by coming nearer at times, and always acting as a barrier to break the heavy swell.

At last Mark caught sight of that for which he had long been watching, having made out the sheltering rocks where he had slept quite early in their journey. The sight for which he had attentively watched was a set of specks far off upon the yellow sands, and as soon as they came in sight he pointed them out to his father.

"Well, I see nothing," said the captain; "but wait a moment."

He took up his gun, opened the breech, and removed the cartridges, after which he held the double-barrel up to his eyes as if it were a binocular glass and looked long and attentively through it.

"Oh, yes, and I can make them out now," he said; "twenty or thirty of them scratching in the sand not far from the trees."

Mark had a look through the barrels, and then, with rather a sneer on his face, the first-mate had a look, but changed his expression as he did so.

"Well, you can certainly see them better," he said rather grudgingly.

"Better! yes," said the captain; "it's a simple plan for anyone out shooting, and worth knowing."

"But it can't magnify," said Mark.

"No," replied the captain; "but it shades the eyes and seems to increase the length of their sight as they peer through these long tubes."

"You'll try for a few of the birds, I suppose?" said the mate.

"By all means. Half a dozen such fellows as those will make a capital addition to our table—I mean sandy floor, Mark," he said, smiling.

The birds, as they neared them, seemed to take no heed till they attempted to land, and Mark could not help noticing the annoyance painted in the mate's face, as, eager to have a shot at the fine fat-looking fellows, he saw them move off in a rapid run.

"Row a little farther," said the captain.

This was done, and the boat was pulled a hundred yards and the same evolutions gone through on both sides.

"Why, I thought you said they were easy to shoot!" said the mate impatiently.

"So they are," said Mark, smiling with the confidence of his hard-bought experience, "if you know how."

"Show us then," said his father, handing him his gun. "We shall never get any this way, and I suppose if we land and try and stalk them they'll keep running out of shot."

"Yes," said Mark. "The major and I followed them for over a mile."

"Ah, well! let's see the wise man give us a lesson," said the mate grimly.

Mark took the gun, and after they had been rowed another hundred yards he bade the men pull in sharply right to the shore, taking his place previously in the bows alongside of Bruff.

The boat touched the sands and Mark leaped out, followed by Bruff, who charged the birds, barking furiously the while, with the same result as before; the birds ceased running, turned to gaze at their enemy, and then took flight to the trees.

"Now, Mr Gregory," shouted Mark, waiting till he came up, when they fired together and each got a bird.

Following the flock after these had been retrieved and carried to the boat they obtained another, Mark missing an easy shot. Soon after they both missed, and then the mate obtained two with his right and left barrels.

This was carried on for about half an hour, when with a bag of nine birds they stopped, the supply being considered ample to last three or four days.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

HOW THEY ENTERED CRATER BAY.

The birds were now stowed away in the bows and stern, the former lot being investigated with plucking views by Jack, who, however, was stopped by his master and forced to seat himself on one of the thwarts, where he sat eyeing the game and evidently longing to begin, while the boat was now once more propelled swiftly, and judging from the numbers of these curious birds they saw, it seemed that a supply for food was not likely to fail for some time to come.

They rowed steadily on for quite a couple of hours more, beyond where Mark and the major had their encounter with the supposed savage, but there was no sign of the ship.

"He didn't dream it, did he?" said the mate gruffly, as he stood up and scanned the line of coast in front.

"He could not," said the captain smiling. "His coming here was no dream."

"No; we did not bring him," assented the mate. "Let's see; we are going due west now. No doubt, I think, about this being an island."

"Not the least," said the captain. "Come on now and let's take the oars."

They changed places with the men, Mark also taking his turn, and pulled steadily for quite a couple of hours more, but still there was no sign of the ship; and at last, as they came abreast of a little stream flowing down from a gorge in a high and rocky part of the land to leap from rock to rock with a musical plashing before it came gurgling through the sand, they decided to land, go and find a shady spot, and there rest and partake of the provisions with which they were prepared.

The boat was run ashore, the grapnel placed on the sand, and as they leaped on to the level surface one by one they reeled and caught at the air to save themselves from falling, for the sand seemed to heave like the sea.

"Are we giddy from rowing in the sun?" said the captain excitedly.

"No; the earth moved. Hush!"

It was Mark who spoke, and they listened to a dull rumbling sound. Then there was a smart shock, a great cloud seemed to be puffed out of the mountain, whose top they could see plainly dominating the gorge, and then all was still.

"An earthquake!" said the captain. "Here, stand up, men, what are you doing?"

This was to Billy Widgeon and the other sailor, who, immediately upon feeling the tremulous wavy motion of the earth, had dropped into a sitting position, and from that lain flat down upon their backs.

"Is it safe to get up, sir?" said Billy pitifully.

"Safe!" said the mate. "Yes, for you. You wouldn't fall far."

"No, sir, not so werry far," said Billy apologetically; "but you see I ain't used to walking when the ground's a-heaving up like that there."

"My good fellow, who is?" cried the mate.

"Never felt anything like it before, sir. Hadn't we better go back?"

"Quick!" cried the captain; "run—for those rocks."

He led the way, and all ran, followed by Jack and the dog, and as they ran a rushing sound came behind them, nearer and nearer and louder and louder. Mark glanced over his shoulder and saw that a great white-topped wave was dashing in from seaward, turning the calm lagoon into a fierce scene of turmoil, and racing after them so rapidly that before they reached the rocks it was half-way up the sands. As they climbed up about twenty feet the wave struck the foot, sending the spray flying over their heads, and then retiring with a low hissing roar back to the lagoon, across it, plunging over the barrier reef, and as they watched they could see that the ocean was heaving and tossing in the brilliant sunshine, and then in the course of a few minutes all was peaceful once again.

"Oh, the boat!" cried Mark, for he had been intent upon the wave. The captain had, however, been watchful of the boat the whole time, and had seen it caught by the earthquake wave, swung round, and carried up over the sands to be thrown at last and left close to the pile of rocks to which they clung.

Fortunately it had been heaved up gently and allowed to fall easily upon the soft sands, so that when they descended to it and swung its stern round so as to place it in an easy position for running down, they found it to be perfectly uninjured, and that it had not shipped a drop of water.

All joined to run her down again toward the sea, but the captain concluded to wait till they were ready to start, in case another wave should run in and worse mischief befall them.

It was not a pleasant preparation for their meal, but the sea now calmed down, the water of the little stream came gushing perfectly clear, the sun shone brightly and not a cloud was visible; in short, but for their memories, it was impossible to tell that anything had befallen them. Still it required a little effort to sit down where only a short time before the earth had been trembling, and it was impossible to avoid a sensation of dread lest the trembling of the ground should only have been the precursor of a terrible earthquake when the island would open and swallow them up, and this idea was fostered by the behaviour of Bruff, who kept running here and there snuffing the sand and uttering every now and then an uneasy whine.

After the first few mouthfuls, however, their confidence began to return, and a hearty meal was eaten, and supplemented by some draughts of cool, sweet cocoa-nut milk obtained by Billy Widgeon, who contrived to climb a young newly-bearing tree.

After this the boat was run down to the lagoon, and they continued their journey refreshed and ready to send the little vessel rapidly through the water.

The land trended more and more now to the west, but in front of their course a long spit of rocks ran right out for a considerable distance, and after scanning the shore carefully the captain concluded that if the ship was anywhere it must be just beyond the point.

The state of the atmosphere made the distance deceptive, and the rocky spit proved to be far nearer than had been anticipated. And here as they drew close to see that the rock was of a blackish-brown it became evident that unless they cared to row completely out to sea and then back so as to double this point, where there would in all probability be a tremendous current, they must now land and continue the journey on foot.

The latter was decided upon and the gig run up on a beach whose sand was of some sparkling black mineral, the grains all being of a good size and tremendously heavy. The rocks towered above them and were extremely craggy, but of a columnar, basaltic nature, which formed plenty of steps for the climbers, who mounted some fifty feet and then were able to look down into a perfectly-formed semicircular bay, the spit on which they stood forming one side, a similar spit being on the other about a hundred and fifty yards away, while the whole wore the aspect of a volcanic crater, one side of which had been washed down by the sea, the black jagged rock and barren aspect being suggestive of this having been once the scene of an eruption.

As they stood on the rocks gazing down before them there was a slight quivering to be felt, and soon after a dull heavy explosion, which sounded as if it had taken place far below, while directly after a ball of vapour shot up out of the conical mountain, here about a couple of miles inland, right from the head of the bay.

It was a wild and desolate scene, for instead of the volcano being shut off in its lower parts by bands of vegetation, there rose from the water great swarthy walls of basaltic rock, all looking as if they had lately cooled down after being in a state of incandescence; while to add to the weird aspect of the place, so strange in the midst of so much verdure and lush growth, the waters of the little bay were of pitchy blackness, and hardly showed a ripple upon the jetty sand.

Desolation in its wildest form, but at that moment it seemed the framing of one of the most attractive pictures the travellers could find; for half hidden by rocks, but as it were just at their feet, lay the blackened hull of the ship, just as it had drifted ashore and been heaved up and tossed higher and dryer by the late earthquake wave.

No time was lost in climbing down to the black sands, while the burnt and torn-off remains of the shrouds which hung over the side of the hull rendered an ascent to the deck quite easy, the captain leading, Mark following, and the others rapidly joining them where they stood. But as it was, only Mark heard the low groan the captain uttered as he stood and gazed about him on the charred deck of his ship.

It was a pitiable spectacle indeed, for the planks were almost entirely black; three charred stumps showed where the great masts had been, and saving that the bowsprit was nearly intact the fire had made a clean sweep of the deck, even the greater portion of the bulwarks having been burned away.

Here and there the planks were so completely burned through that the greatest care was needed to avoid a fall below, but by picking their way they were able to go from end to end of the charred hull. As the burning masts had fallen they had carried with them over the sides the greater part of the standing and running rigging with every spar, while the shrouds and ropes that had been dragged across the deck were reduced to cinders which crumbled at a touch.

Everything pointed to the truth of the stowaway's story, for as they stood in the bows there was a portion of the deck almost untouched, and the remains of a stay-sail furled up and only burned through. There could be no doubt that the fire was blazing furiously, had burned all the boats, and was eating its way down toward the cargo and stores when the tropic downpour came and extinguished it before greater mischief was done; for though the vessel had become a complete hulk there was one fact perfectly evident, and that was that they had only to descend below to find in the hold and stores a perfect mint of useful treasure for people in their condition.

"Yes," said Gregory, as if someone had just spoken these words to him, "we can get enough out of her to live on for a couple of years, and stuff sufficient to set-to and build a little schooner or smack big enough to take us to Singapore."

"I was thinking precisely the same," said the captain eagerly, while Mark said nothing, for with the ship's stores and treasures to work upon it seemed as if they could make themselves very happy in such a glorious place. With a comfortable home, plenty of fruit and birds, and their friends about them, life on the island would be a very happy one, so it seemed to him, and he felt a kind of wonder that there should be a difference of opinion. But then there was the volcano and the earthquake!

They were now picking their way aft, and here the destruction was greater. In one place it was perfectly plain that the powder-keg must have stood, for coamings, bulwarks, skylights, everything had been swept clear off at the time the explosion occurred, while as they reached the saloon entry it was to find only its place, for here the fire had been raging furiously, the poop-deck and the cabins on either side of the saloon being burned completely away.

"Well," said the captain, after a long inspection, "we've found the poor old girl, Gregory, and she's past mending."

"Yes," said Gregory with a short sharp nod of the head.

"But she will be a treasure-house for us, and some of her cargo may be saved, so we must make her fast."

"Not much fear of her breaking away," said the mate; "she's well wedged in these sands, and it strikes me—yes, it is so, that big wave to-day gave her a lift up and drove her farther ashore. No tide would ever float her off."

"No," said the captain, "but all the same let's make sure. We could get a cable out to yon piece of rock and moor her safely."

"Yes," said the mate. "Now, my lads, bear a hand."

All joined in, from the captain to Mark, and in half an hour a cable was run out of one of the hawse-holes, dragged high up the sands, one end taken round a huge mass of rock, tied and lashed, and the other end well stopped in the ship.

"There," said the captain, "that's enough. Now for home. Shall we go back the same way?"

"Well, the worst that could happen would be that we should have to camp out," said Gregory; "and as I make it we've one knot to go this way to two the other."

"If it's an island."

"As I believe it is, sir. What do you say? We must explore it some time, and if this is the nearest way to fetch cargo we'd better find it."

"Unless we come and make our home here."

"No, sir. The ladies wouldn't like this black furnace hole of a place. Let them stop where they are."

"Perhaps you are right, Gregory; but now how to get back? Shall we row out right round the point?"

"No, sir. I'm thinking there's an opening about a couple of hundred yards out yonder, and if there's no water perhaps we can get the boat across."

"Come on, then."

The captain sighed as he gave one more glance round, and ended by picking up one of the charred handles of the wheel, which he put in his pocket before returning to the boat.

"There is plenty of powder and shot in the magazine," said the captain, thankfully; "and we can find no end of useful stuff if we break bulk."

"Ay, we shall manage, sir," said the mate. "Now, my lads, all together," and the boat was once more run out and rowed to the opening the mate had seen.

It proved enough for them to pass through with their oars laid in, and as soon as they were through the change from the brilliant blue water with the lovely coral and sea growth beneath to this jetty black bay was quite awe-inspiring.

"The water's clear," said Mark. "What makes it so black?"

"I should say," said the captain, gazing down over the side, "that it is of almost unfathomable depth."

"And was once a pit of fire," said the mate. "But let's try."

He took one of the fishing-lines, fitted a leaden weight to it, and lowered it over the side, when it went down and down till the end of the line was reached. Then another was tied on, and this went down, making together nearly 200 yards. There was yet another line, and this was fastened on, another fifty yards going down.

"There, you see," said the captain.

"Bottom!" cried the mate, as the weight ceased and the line slackened.

"Two hundred and fifty yards," said the captain: "a hundred and twenty-five fathoms."

"No," cried the mate excitedly, "it isn't bottom, it's a fish."

"Nonsense!"

"It is; I can feel him," cried the mate; and he hauled rapidly in, with a heavy fish playing about till, just as it reached the surface and displayed a hideous pair of jaws, it let go, and with a flounder disappeared.

"Glad he was not hooked," said the mate, as Mark shrank away. "What a brute!"

"Horrible!" exclaimed Mark, shivering, for the idea of being overboard in such a black bottomless hole sent a chill through him. But they were soon across, to find they could drag the boat over fifty yards of black sand and launch her again in blue water, where all around was bright and attractive; for though no large trees were growing near the shore, the land was covered with a glorious vegetation, and looked attractive right away to the slopes of the volcano, as soon as the crater bay, with its lowering black basalt, was left a quarter of a mile behind.