n the Western world, in
the lagoons and forests of Equatorial America. Many of the "sailors'
yarns" of past times, which we have been accustomed so flippantly to
discredit, on account of their appearing rather tough, have under the
light of recent scientific exploration been proved true.

And although some of them may seem to be incorporated in this narrative,
under the guise of mere romance, the reader need not on this account
think himself misled, or treat them with sublime contempt. If it should
ever be his fate or fortune to make a tour through the East Indian
Archipelago, he will cease to be incredulous.

Henry Redwood and his sister Helen had no such tranquil reflections, as
they stood under the shadow of the great tree, concealing themselves
behind its trunk, and watching the terrible conflict between the two
huge creatures, both in their eyes equally hideous.

Giving way to an instinct of justice, they would have taken sides with
the party assailed and against the assailant. But, under the
circumstances, their leanings were the very reverse; for in the
triumphant conqueror they saw a continuance of their own danger;
whereas, had the amphibious animal been victorious, this would have been
at an end. The strife now terminated, they stood trembling and
uncertain as ever.

The crocodile, although crushed, and no longer dangerous for any
offensive manoeuvre, was not killed. Its body still writhed and
wriggled upon the ground; though its movements were but the agonised
efforts of mortal pain, excited convulsively and each moment becoming
feebler.

And the red gorilla stood near, squatted on its haunches; at intervals
tossing its long hairy arms around its head, and giving utterance to
that strange coughing laughter, as if it would never leave off exulting
over the victory it had achieved. How long was this spectacle to last?
It was sufficiently horrid for the spectators to desire its speedy
termination.

And yet they did not; they were in hopes it might continue till a voice
coming from the forest, or the tread of a foot, would tell them that
help was near.

Tremblingly but attentively they listened. They heard neither one nor
the other--neither voice nor footstep. Now and then came the note of a
bird or the cry of some four-footed creature prowling through the
glades; but not uttered in accents of alarm. The hunters must have
wandered far in their search for game. They might not return in time.