get back to dinner in good time. Crowned pigeon for dinner, and
fish."

He attacked the side of the lugger with redoubled energy, his strokes
following the party for far enough as they trudged on due south to an
opening in the forest not yet visited by either Drew or Lane, and the
latter, as he saw the abundance of tempting specimens, exclaimed,--

"I say, what have we been about not to visit this spot before?"

"Had too many other good spots to visit, I suppose," said Drew; "but, my
word! look at the orchids here."

"Bah! That's nothing to what you will see, eh, Smith?"

"Yes, sir, they'll stare a bit when they gets farder on. Me and Billy's
been thinking as we should like to retire from business and build
ourselves houses there to live in, speshly Billy."

"Speak the truth, mate, you was the worst," grumbled Wriggs.

"You was just as bad about it, Billy. Didn't you say as it would be
grand to have a house to live in, with b'iling water laid on at your
front door?"

"Nay, that I didn't, Tommy. How could I when there warn't no front door
and no house built?"

"You are so partickler to a word, mate. It was something of that kind."

"Nay, Tommy."

"Why, it was, and you says you'd want a missus, on'y you didn't know as
how a white missus'd care to come and live out in a place where there
warn't no pumps, and you couldn't abide to have one as was black."

"Well!" exclaimed Wriggs indignantly, "of all the 'orrid yarns! Why, it
were him, gents, as said all that. Now, speak the truth, Tommy, warn't
it you?"

"Now you comes to talk about it that way, Billy, I begin to think as it
were; but it don't matter, let's say it was both on us."

"How much farther is it to the wonder?" asked Oliver.

"About a mile," replied Panton. "There, curb your impetuosity and don't
be jealous when you get there."

"Jealous! Rubbish! Look, Drew!" cried Oliver, as a huge moth as big
across the wings as a dinner plate flapped gently along the shadowy way
beneath the trees, now nearly invisible, now plainly seen threading its
way through patches which looked like showers of silver rain. "Who can
be jealous of another's luck when he is overwhelmed with luck of his
own?"

"Hi! Stop! None of that!" cried Panton, catching Oliver by the arm, as
he snatched off his sun helmet and was dashing forward through the
forest.

"What's the matter?"

"That's what I want to know. Are you mad to go dashing off, hat in
hand, after