do better than make our way up that ridge till
we come upon another valley running down to the shore."

"That's the way, sir," said Ned. "Only wants a little thinking about.
A set o' naked niggers beat you at scheming? Why, it ain't likely."

But they had a scare a quarter of an hour later, the second party of
blacks coming into sight suddenly, not twenty yards away, tramping in
Indian file, with their spears over their shoulders, and for the moment
Jack's heart seemed to stand still, and he grasped his weapon, ready to
make one blow for his life.

For it seemed impossible that the men could pass by--men of such a keen,
observant nature--without seeing the pair lying there amongst the
trailing growth of the potatoes.

Worse still, they came nearer, so as to avoid a block of stone in their
way, and one of the number leaped upon it, and after a look round,
uttered the call of his tribe, just as one of a flock of running birds
does to keep the rest together.

"Now for it," thought Jack, as the black looked straight in his
direction, and he prepared to spring up as the man leaped down, and
seemed about to run at him, spear in hand.

But just when an encounter for life or death seemed inevitable, the
savage trotted on, and the others followed, seeming to grow shorter,
till one by one they disappeared, shoulders, heads, tops of the spears,
dissolving into the coming gloom of evening.

"Oh, scissors!" whispered Ned. "I say, Mr Jack, sir, if I'd held my
breath much longer, I'm sure all the works would have stopped."

"I thought it was all over, Ned."

"Yes, sir, so did I; but I meant to have a dig at one or two of 'em
first. Talk about as near as a toucher, that was nearer. How do you
feel now?"

"Heart beats horribly."

"So does mine, sir. It's going like a steam-pump with too much to do.
But who's afraid?"

"I am, Ned."

"That you are not, sir. I'm just the same as you, but it's only
excitement, and what any one would feel. Now then they've gone down and
blocked our road, so we must go up another way. Just give 'em another
five minutes, and then we'll go and get our 'taters."

The ashes were soon being raked aside, and the invaluable potatoes about
to be uncovered, when Ned sniffed.

"I say, Mr Jack, sir, they smell good."

"Why, what's that, Ned?" cried Jack, pointing through the gloom at
something long and stiff curled up into a knot.

"That, sir? Well, I am stunned. Why, it's one of they sn