ghting hard with his growing
alarm, "Ahoy!"

Ha--ha--ha!

Wauck!

And then the same peculiar low chuckle.

"Mr Mark, sir, this is hard on a man," whispered Billy. "I want to run
away, sir, but--"

"Ugh! You coward!"

"No, sir, I aren't a coward. If I was I should run, but I can't run and
leave you alone, and that's why it's so hard."

"I tell you it's the birds, Billy. Let's shout together."

"That aren't no birds, sir. It's things as it's best not to talk about.
Now, look ye here, Mr Mark, sir: I'll run away with you, and fight for
you, or do anything you like, sir, or I stands by you till I drops, so
don't say I'm a coward."

"You are, to be afraid of birds. Ahoy!"

Ha--ha--ha!

Wauck!

Chuckle--chuckle--chuckle! A regular gurgle in a hoarse throat.

"I won't stand it. You come on," cried Billy, seizing Mark by the hand.
"This way."

Mark did not resist, and the little sailor hurried him along as fast as
the nature of the ground would allow; and with the full intention of
going right towards where they had left the others, at the end of the
bitumen river, he went right in the opposite direction, and farther and
farther into the wildest recesses of the jungle.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

HOW MARK AND BILLY FOUND A STRANGE BED.

For a good half-hour they toiled on through cane-woven thickets, in and
out of wildernesses of huge tree-trunks, many of which had great flat
buttresses all round, which were difficult to climb over or round, while
other trees seemed to be growing with their roots all above ground,
green, snaky, twisted and involved roots, that necessitated sheer
climbing before they could get by. Now and then they came to an opening
where the trees had been burned down by volcanic fires, and here all was
light and beauty in the evening sunshine. Again rocky crevices ran
through the forest, giving them terribly hard work to get over, perhaps
to come at once upon some boiling spring, whose water, where it trickled
away and cooled, was of a filthy bitter taste that was most
objectionable. Then again there were blistering pools of mud ever
rising in a high ebullition, and bursting with strange sounds.

But all these were similar to those they had before encountered, and the
hiss of steam, when they stepped upon some soft spot, ceased to alarm
them with dread of serpents, but merely made them avoid such spots in
favour of firmer ground.

Such signs of the volcanic nature of the