ver been before, so I shall
trust to our friend here. We can get to New Guinea at any time now, for
it lies all along the north. All right, go on then," said my uncle to
Ebo-Nee, and he nodded and smiled, pointing to what looked like a mist
upon the water far away.

"Nat, ung, shoot," cried Ebo eagerly; "shoot, shoot, shoot."

"Why, we shall have quite an English scholar on board soon, Nat," said
my uncle laughing; and then in turns we held the sheet as the swift
canoe glided over the sunlit waves till the island we had left began to
grow dim in the distance and its mountains to sink, as it were, beneath
the wave, while the place to which we were going grew less misty and
indistinct.

It was evidently very high land, and as we drew nearer we could see that
right and left of it there were other islands apparently of goodly size.

Mid-day came and we made a hearty meal, the canoe, urged by the soft
brisk breeze, still gliding onwards till towards evening, when we were
sufficiently near the land we approached to make out that it was very
bleak and bare and sterile. There was a ridge of mountains in the
central portion, but as we examined the place with the glass it looked
as blank and uninviting as could be.

"Not a sign of an inhabitant," said my uncle. "I'm afraid we have made
a mistake, Nat; but perhaps one of the other islands may prove more
inviting."

He continued his inspection and went on talking. "There are plenty of
traces of sea-birds," he continued, "for the cliffs are covered with
guano; but it is not their breeding season, and I cannot see a single
bird. But he is not making straight for the sands. Why don't you try
to land there?"

Ebo shook his head, and then laughed and said, "No," steering the canoe
to the left of the island. And so we sailed on till it was so near
sunset that it would be dark in half an hour, when our crew, who had
evidently been here before, suddenly steered the canoe into a cove well
sheltered from the rollers, and lowering the sail we ran her up on the
soft sands quite clear of the sea, Ebo at once setting to work
collecting dry drift-wood to make a fire.

He pointed out a sheltered spot among some heaped-up rocks where the
sand had been blown up by tempests into a soft bed, and here, after a
very hearty meal well cooked over the fire Ebo had made, we lay down to
sleep; my uncle having climbed to the top of the rocks and swept the
island with his glass, returning to