tempted
by a strong curiosity to examine it, to approach the fallen fruit. In
fact, the arm of Henry was badly lacerated; and his little sister, on
seeing the blood upon his shirt sleeve, uttered an alarm that brought
first Saloo, and then the others, affrighted to the spot.

"What is it?" were the interrogations of the two white men, as they came
hurrying up, while the impressive Malay put none--at once comprehending
the cause of the alarm. He saw the scratched arm, and the huge green
globe lying upon the ground.

"_Dulion_!" he said, glancing up to the tree.

"Durion!" echoed the captain, pronouncing the word properly, as
translated from Saloo's pigeon English.

"Yes, cappen; foolee me no think of him befole. Belly big danger. It
fallee on skull, skull go clashee clashee."

This was evident without Saloo's explanation. The lacerated arm and
broken shell were evidences enough of the terrible effects that would
have been produced had the grand pericarp in its downward descent fallen
upon the heads of either of the children, and they all saw what a narrow
escape Henry had of getting his "cocoa-nut" crushed or split open.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

SHOOTING AT FRUIT.

As soon as the three men had got well up to the ground and ascertained
the cause of Helen's alarm, and the damage done to Henry's jacket and
skin, Murtagh was the first to make a demonstration. He did so by
running in under the tree, and stooping to lay hold of the fruit that
had caused the misfortune. Saloo saw him do this without giving a word
of warning. He was, perhaps, a little piqued that the Irishman should
make himself so conspicuous about things he could not possibly be
supposed to understand, and which to the Malay himself were matters of
an almost special knowledge. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eye
as he contemplated the meddling of Murtagh, and waited for the
_denouement_.

The latter, rashly grasping the spiny fruit, did not get it six inches
above the ground, before he let go again, as if it had been the hottest
of hot "purtatees."

"Och, and what have I done now!" he cried, "I'm jagged all over. There
isn't a smooth spot upon it--not so much as a shank to take howlt of!"

"You takee care, Multa," cautioned Saloo. "You lookee aloff. May be
you get jagee in de skull!"

Murtagh took the hint, and, giving one glance upward, ran back with a
roar from under the shadow of the tree.

The Malay, seemingly satisfied with