wonder whether it's a poisonous snake," thought Murray; and then he
made an effort to awaken himself from the pleasant feeling of
restfulness, for he knew that he must exert himself if he intended to
find a way back to where he had been separated from his companions--
those whom he must urge on to the fulfilment of his task.

"And I have not done what I felt that I must do at all risks," he said,
as he once more made an effort to rouse himself from the drowsy inertia
which was holding him in something resembling a trance.

Drawing a deep breath, he took more tightly hold of the cypress boughs,
and was about to hail at any risk and with all his might, when he
uttered a loud sob of relief, for suddenly from somewhere far away,
came, strangely softened and subdued, though prolonged, the words--

"Ahoy-y-y! _Seafowls_ ahoy-y-y!"

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

WITH SHOT-HOLES.

"Ahoy-y-y! _Seafowls_ ahoy-y!" came again after a pause, and though he
felt that he ought to have hailed in reply, Frank Murray's lips remained
closed, and he still clung there listening for the hail to come again.

It was not until he heard the hail for the fourth time that the
midshipman was able to throw off the nightmare-like feeling, and,
drawing a deep breath, shout with all his might--

"_Seafowls_ ahoy!"

Then he held his breath and waited, feeling that his voice could not
have been heard, and a feeling of despair began to assail him and the
fancy grew that he was sinking back into that horrible sensation of
inertia which had mastered him for a time.

But it was fancy, for throwing off the weakness he shouted now joyously
and lustily--

"_Seafowl_ ahoy!"

There was silence for a few moments; then came the inspiring sound of
some one struggling through the tangled growth and splashing over the
mud and water--sounds which were followed by--

"Where away there? Ahoy!"

"Here! Is that you, Tom May?" shouted Murray, and from not far from the
foot of the cypress where the lad clung there was a wallowing sound and
a splash in the water which sent a wave-like movement across the little
lake at the end of the tunnel.

"Tom May it is, sir! Where are you?"

"Up here in this fir-like tree, Tom. Where's Titely?"

"What, ain't you got him along o' you, sir?"

"No! I haven't seen him since we parted. Haven't you any notion where
he is?"

"Not a haporth, sir. I on'y hope he arn't gone through."

"Gone through!" cried Murray, in