er taken any precautions for
defense, as dangerous animals had not shown themselves on that part of
the island.

Meanwhile, Pencroft and Neb were working in the poultry-yard, while
Harding and the reporter were occupied at the Chimneys in making soda,
the store of soap being exhausted.

Suddenly cries resounded,--

"Help! help!"

Cyrus Harding and the reporter, being at too great a distance, had not
been able to hear the shouts. Pencroft and Neb, leaving the poultry-yard
in all haste, rushed towards the lake.

But before then, the stranger, whose presence at this place no one had
suspected, crossed Creek Glycerine, which separated the plateau from the
forest, and bounded up the opposite bank.

Herbert was there face to face with a fierce jaguar, similar to the
one which had been killed on Reptile End. Suddenly surprised, he was
standing with his back against a tree, while the animal gathering itself
together was about to spring.

But the stranger, with no other weapon than a knife, rushed on the
formidable animal, who turned to meet this new adversary.

The struggle was short. The stranger possessed immense strength and
activity. He seized the jaguar's throat with one powerful hand, holding
it as in a vise, without heeding the beast's claws which tore his flesh,
and with the other he plunged his knife into its heart.

The jaguar fell. The stranger kicked away the body, and was about to
fly at the moment when the settlers arrived on the field of battle, but
Herbert, clinging to him, cried,--

"No, no! you shall not go!"

Harding advanced towards the stranger, who frowned when he saw him
approaching. The blood flowed from his shoulder under his torn shirt,
but he took no notice of it.

"My friend," said Cyrus Harding, "we have just contracted a debt of
gratitude to you. To save our boy you have risked your life!"

"My life!" murmured the stranger. "What is that worth? Less than
nothing!"

"You are wounded?"

"It is no matter."

"Will you give me your hand?"

And as Herbert endeavored to seize the hand which had just saved him,
the stranger folded his arms, his chest heaved, his look darkened, and
he appeared to wish to escape, but making a violent effort over himself,
and in an abrupt tone,--

"Who are you?" he asked, "and what do you claim to be to me?"

It was the colonists' history which he thus demanded, and for the first
time. Perhaps this history recounted, he would tell his own.

In a fe