sable that someone should always stay to be on the watch.

Mark had been wandering listlessly about for some time wishing he could
fish, or shoot, or collect insects--though he might easily have done the
latter, for an abundance of beautiful butterflies came from the forest
to settle wherever the skins of fruit were thrown. But he wanted to be
free, and it was tiresome, he thought, to be so useless and do nothing
better than to idle about the camp and watch the cooking--a tantalising
matter when you could not eat.

It was getting toward afternoon when Bruff, who was with him, lying on
the sand with his eyes shut and shaking his ears to keep out the flies,
suddenly sprang up and uttered a low growl.

"What is it, old boy?" cried Mark.

Another growl, and a short snapping bark, which was answered by a
chattering noise, told that the monkey was coming, and he appeared soon
after followed by the stowaway.

Something was evidently wrong, for the man was waving his hand wildly,
and beckoning to him to come.

Mark ran to meet him, to see, as he drew nearer, that Jimpny's face and
hands were bleeding and his shirt hanging in strips from his shoulders,
while his staring eyes and open mouth showed him to be suffering from
excess of terror.

"Why, David, what's the matter?" cried Mark as he ran up to him, the
stowaway sinking down upon the sand unable to answer, and his breath
coming and going with a hoarse roaring noise that was terrible.

"Can't you speak?" cried Mark. "What is the matter?"

The stowaway uttered a few words hoarsely, but nothing was
comprehensible but "quick!" and "run." He pointed seaward, though in
the direction opposite to that which the party had taken that morning on
their way round to Crater Bay, a journey which familiarity had made
appear now comparatively short.

Mark looked in the direction in which he pointed, and could see the blue
water of the lagoon, with to his left the long line of creamy surf and
to his right the fringe of cocoa-nut trees just beyond the sand.

Jimpny pointed again, and on once more looking searchingly Mark made out
a flock of the beautiful long-tailed parroquets which haunted the island
groves, but nothing more.

"Have you seen anything--has anyone touched you? Oh, I say, David, do
speak! What is the matter?"

The stowaway made signs again and pointed, striving once more to rise,
but sinking back from utter exhaustion.

"Point, then, if you can't speak," cr