porter, "there are only Malays who
frequent these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best
to avoid."

"It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett," said Herbert, "that some day or
other we may find traces of their landing."

"I do not say no, my boy. A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would
put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next
expedition."

The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the
forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees. There,
among others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground,
some of those superb coniferae, to which, in New Zealand, the natives
give the name of Kauris.

"I have an idea, Mr. Spilett," said Herbert. "If I were to climb to
the top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an
immense distance round."

"The idea is good," replied the reporter; "but could you climb to the
top of those giants?"

"I can at least try," replied Herbert.

The light and active boy then sprang on the first branches, the
arrangement of which made the ascent of the kauri easy, and in a few
minutes he arrived at the summit, which emerged from the immense plain
of verdure.

From this elevated situation his gaze extended over all the southern
portion of the island, from Claw Cape on the south-east, to Reptile
End on the south-west. To the north-west rose Mount Franklin, which
concealed a great part of the horizon.

But Herbert, from the height of his observatory, could examine all the
yet unknown portion of the island which might have given shelter to
the strangers whose presence they suspected.

The lad looked attentively. There was nothing in sight on the sea, not
a sail, neither on the horizon nor near the island. However, as the
bank of trees hid the shore, it was possible that a vessel, especially
if deprived of her masts, might lie close to the land and thus be
invisible to Herbert.

Neither in the forests of the Far West was anything to be seen. The
wood formed an impenetrable screen, measuring several square miles,
without a break or an opening. It was impossible even to follow the
course of the Mercy, or to ascertain in what part of the mountain it
took its source. Perhaps other creeks also ran towards the west, but
they could not be seen.

But at last, if all indication of an encampment escaped Herbert's
sight, could he not even catch a glimpse of smoke, the faintest trace
of which would be easil