hill. The two proceeded a short distance along the shore to the right,
and then turned into the forest to search, as we supposed, for plants,
or roots, capable of being turned to useful account.

By the time our clothes were sufficiently dry to be put on, the tide had
risen considerably, and on repairing to the well, we found the water
several inches above Arthur's mark, thus confirming Morton's theory in
regard to it. Though we should have been better pleased to have
discovered a spring, yet there was no reason to doubt that here was an
ample and permanent supply of fresh water.

As it was now getting towards noon, and the day was excessively hot, we
returned to Castle-Hill, to enjoy the grateful shade of its cool, dark
groves, and the breeze which was sure to play about its summit, if air
was stirring any where. Max sought out a leafy bower of ferns and
creepers, near the foot of the great candle-nut tree, where he stretched
himself out and went to sleep. Johnny got his bow and arrows, and began
to practise archery, by shooting at the large and gaudy insects hovering
around the blossoms of the vines, and when, probably by accident, he
carried away the wing of one of them at the distance of some six or
seven yards, he boasted loudly of the exploit, and intimated that in
case of a brush with any cannibals, his bow might be relied on to do
some execution. Getting tired at length of his crusade against the
butterflies, he expressed a wish to try his skill upon some larger game,
but as nothing in the shape of a jackall or tiger-cat was obliging
enough to make its appearance, he put aside his weapons with a sigh, and
lying down near Max, was soon asleep. There was a drowsy influence in
the profound quiet, and subdued light of the spot, to which I should
soon have yielded but for Browne, who began to talk of Scottish scenes
and legends, with sufficient interest to keep Morton and myself awake.
It seemed strange enough, to lie there in that tropical forest,
listening to an enthusiastic description of the rugged sublimity of the
Trossachs, the romantic beauty of Loch Vennacher, Loch Katrine, and Loch
Achray, or the lovely vale of Kelso, bosomed in green woods, with its
placid streams, smooth lawns, and hazel-fringed dells.

About noon, Arthur and Eiulo made their appearance, emerging from the
grove to the south-east of the hill, laden with roots, plants, strips of
bark, etcetera. They had been looking for the auti, or