t like
a flash."

As they went higher the doctor pointed out various tokens of some
ancient eruption, it being plain that there must have been a time when
the bed of the river formed that of a flow of volcanic mud, mingled with
blocks of lava and scoria. Then the lake must in the course of ages
have formed, and its overflowings have swept away all soft and loose
debris.

"Yes, it's all very interesting," said Carey, "but it's precious hot,"
and he gave himself a sort of writhe to make his clothes rub over his
skin. But the attempt was in vain, for his shirt stuck, and a
peculiarly irritable look came over his countenance.

"Do the weals sting?" asked the doctor.

"Horribly. That lizard's tail must be all bone. Oh, it does hurt
still."

"It will soon go off. Think of it from a natural history point of view,
my boy, and how singular it is that the creature should be endowed with
such a wonderful power of defence. It regularly flogged and lashed at
you."

"Yes; cracked its tail like a whip."

"No, no; the sound you heard was caused by the blows. It seems as if
the saurian tribe make special use of their tails for offence and
defence."

"Why, what else does?" said Carey, rubbing himself softly.

"Crocodiles and alligators strike with tremendous force; the former will
sweep cattle or human beings off a river bank into the water; and I
daresay those monster lizards attack small animals in the same way."

"But I'm not a small animal, sir," said the boy, shortly. "Yes, it's
all very well to laugh, Doctor Kingsmead, and talk about studying a
whopping from a natural history point of view, but one couldn't study
wasps comfortably sitting on their nest."

"No, and I daresay the cuts were very painful, but the sting will soon
pass off."

"Yes, it's getting better now," said Carey, looking a little more
cheerful; "but old Bob keeps on grinning about it. He doesn't look at
me, but he keeps on chuckling to himself every minute, and that's what
it means. I wish he'd get stung, or something. Hi! look out. Snake!"

His shout aroused a sleeping boa--not one of the giants of its kind, but
a good-sized serpent of the sort known among Australian settlers as the
carpet snake.

The reptile had been sleeping in the sunshine and, startled into
activity, made for its lair, a dense patch of woodland, escaping before
anyone could get a shot.

"That's a pretty good proof that this isle was at one time joined to the
m