s he pointed forward and signed to the
others to lie close, for from out of the edge of the forest, about a
hundred yards in front, a black head was thrust forth from among the
trees.

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

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

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

EARTH'S MYSTERY AT WORK.

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

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

But the swerve in amongst the trees never came, no weapons were raised
by the on-coming foe, and, to the astonishment of the waiting party, the
savages dashed by like a human whirlwind till they were some fifty yards
onward toward the sea, when they stopped short and wheeled round to
stand looking back as if for the enemy from whom they had fled, while
Oliver and his party still crouched there, wondering what was to happen
next.

Then came the explanation of the savages' action. They were fleeing
from an enemy, but it was no human foe. Nature was at wo