note to John, which he had received, he said,
from the strange senor early in the morning.

"I will not conceal from you that I have departed greatly from my
accustomed habits in affording you an asylum," it ran. "If you wish it
you can remain, but I desire to be once more alone, and can find a home
elsewhere till you take your departure. I have communicated with your
Indian friends, and they will assist you in building a lodge more
suitable for you than this, in the situation you first selected. A
party of them will appear shortly to convey your goods; and they will
also construct a montaria of a size sufficient for you to continue your
voyage. I will, in the meantime, institute inquiries about your missing
friends, and, should I hear tidings of them, will send you word. I beg
that you will return me no thanks, nor expect to see me. The life of
solitude upon which your appearance has broken I desire to resume, and
it will therefore cause me annoyance should you attempt to seek me.
Accept such good wishes as a wretched outcast can venture to end."

This strange note caused us much regret. "He is so kind and gentle, in
spite of the strange way he sometimes expresses himself, that I should
grieve not to see him again, and thank him," said Arthur. "Do you not
think we could leave a note, asking him to let us come and visit him
before we go away altogether? Surely he would not refuse that."

"I am afraid, from the tenor of his note, it would be of no use," said
John; "but if you wish it you can do so; and it will show him, at all
events, that we are not ungrateful for his kindness."

We waited all day in expectation of the arrival of the Indians, but no
one appeared. John went out, and shot some birds and a couple of
monkeys. In our rambles, which were further than we had yet been, we
came upon a cleared space containing a plantation of bananas, maize, and
several edible roots; and, from the neat and scientific way in which the
ground was cultivated, we had little doubt it belonged to the stranger;
indeed, from the supplies he had brought us, notwithstanding his first
remark, we had suspected that he was not without the means of supporting
himself with vegetable food. Although he had allowed us to cook the
animals we killed, we had remarked that he did not touch any of the meat
himself.

Early next morning, as I was standing on the verandah, True poked his
nose forward and began to bark. I thought he had s