y shook his big enemy off
and rolled over him.

"Cleverly done!" he shouted, when Big Blenny with a dart took refuge in
the pool.

"I knowed it," he cried approvingly, when Little Blenny forced him a
second time to evacuate the premises, "Go in an' win, little 'un,"
thought Disco.

Thus the battle raged furiously, now in the water, now on the sand,
while the excited seaman danced round the combatants--both of whom
appeared to have become deaf and blind with rage--and gave them strong
encouragement, mingled with appropriate advice and applause. In fact
Disco's delight would have been perfect, had the size of the
belligerents admitted of his patting the little blenny on the back; but
this of course was out of the question!

At last having struck, worried, bitten, and chased each other by land
and sea for several minutes, these pugnacious creatures seized each
other by their respective throats, like two bull-dogs, and fell
exhausted on the sand.

"It's a draw!" exclaimed Disco, rather disappointed.

"No, 'tain't," he said, as Little Blenny, reviving, rose up and renewed
the combat more furiously than ever; but it was soon ended, for Big
Blenny suddenly turned and fled to his own pool. Little Blenny did not
crow; he did not even appear to be elated. He evidently felt that he
had been called on to perform a disagreeable but unavoidable duty, and
deemed it quite unnecessary to wave banners, fire guns, or ring bells in
celebration of his victory, as he dived back into his pool amid the
ringing cheers of Disco Lillihammer.

"Upon my word, if you have not gone stark mad, you must have had a
sunstroke," said Harold, coming forward, "what's the matter?"

"Too late! too late!" cried Disco, in a mingled tone of amusement and
regret.

"D'ye think it is? Are you incurable already?" asked his friend.

"Too late to see the most a-stonishin' scrimmage I ever did behold in
_my_ life," said Disco.

The description of this scrimmage gave the worthy seaman a subject for
conversation and food for meditation during the greater part of the time
spent over the morning meal, and there is no saying how long he would
have kept referring to and chuckling over it--to the great admiration
and sympathy of the black fellows, who are, as a race, excessively fond
of jocularity and fun--had not another of the denizens of the mangrove
jungle diverted his attention and thoughts rather suddenly.

This was a small monkey, which, seated on a