TALES AND SKETCHES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 8309, 6 May 1905, Page 1

TALES AND SKETCHES.

KEREAM A. A -TORT 07 S-iILOES AOT) SAV__aES. (By KORATJ.) [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER Xn. _>n_a__-_D gkog. tfhus four days passed, arid good^ process was made towards the promised land of cocoanuts and pretty women, but on the fifth the wind died down »nd ths ship lay becalmed. The sailors, having nothing to do, became restless, discontented, arid entious of Black and his two cronies, iwho could revel in the delight of getting drunk every day. When sober, (Blaok could exercise some control, but when drunk they were not so much jrfraid of him. . This fifth day he got fuddled earlier than usual, and some >. of the sailors loudly proclaimed their dissatisfaction, Lad so fanned the smouldering rebellion irito flame. They came aft and Angrily .demanded a further supply of grog- Evans and Frenchy > knowing lack* Orders were positive, resisted Jfche demand for some time, but the men would not be denied, and the two. ronld make, no stand against the Whole mob. .Those behind, forcing those in front, eventually drove them .down the cuddy companion, until they i fell, pell-mell, on the cabin floor, a struggling, swearing heap. ; The sailors, guided as by instinct, moon discovered the grog. They laid jpaods on a small cask of rum, earned .ft rip ' on - ' deck, and lashed it secui ety id the capstan, in view of all. . The .men were now in the nighest tairits and best of humours, and .con bjßgan to feel the effects. of the liquor. They had: the whole day . before tit-m. krid there, where all could see. was chough rum to keep them glo ."'ously m_tu___: for a 'week.' Never before bs.d Jfchey enjoyed so . blissful an anticipation:. It only wanted the Samoan ' pouris tb complete their cup of happipesa. All talked and laughed togwtber W_ the most friendly terms, and, Sam Evans and Frenchy hearing the sound _ (if merriment on the main-deck, could loot resist the temptation to jcin in the ftra. ; Graham kept out of sight, in his jjcabin, and was fortunately forgotfe... Not so the other two prisoners. Bill gtubbs, unable to resist the attraction, of the rum cask, set up liko a golden calf,. with all the creww>rf-hip-j>ing around, endeavoured to obtain a share, and thus attraoted the notice pi Sain Evans. . F '-''fWhy, bless my eyes,- if you lubbers B_n*-ffprfejrt'Mr Stubbs!" cried he. as tie caught slght t of that worthy, waiting ___pat_ently behind the thronging crowd 60 get his pannikin filled. " Ain't you gping to let him have a drain?" "No, nol" answered the carpenter. r* He's had his share ; it's our 'turn fcow." -..'■' Stubbs . was always very geod^toi You,' Peteir. Wasn't it him as served fratyour fcrpg?'}. - a .-.'* Devil a hit ! He was a good 'un fc£ topping it."; \" That waa only kindness, Peter. ; Xvere -afraid you might injure your con- . pt-tution," ; "-He .weren't afraid o' injuring lnV__. . • Now then; Stubbs ! D'you hear? Fetch me this pot full or Til rope > _-end yon." Ihis notion tickled the crew^s fancy* Btubbs was forthwith appointed cupbearer ; but, as he could not serve them fast enough, they sent for Captain .' Perosß. '".'..' ' Ope sailors were next seized with the notion^ of iriakirig their prisoners drunk. btubbs took to the spirit* as a duck takea to water. His thirst .seemed; querichless. Peters, a less ' seasoned VesseL required a very much smaller, ' auanuty to inflame hist brain. . Before ftng : -_-_■ two, "a-rud'^yells of laughter, Were j«rfo__u_ng a kind of tipsy dance tbuncf the capstan; occasionally triptolng over each others fetters and rolling cm the deck. '■.■ yinxen Stubbs reached the, quarrel-■O-tie stage he became dangerous. Had ne not been handicapped by Tiis legfrons he would have Killed' some of the bailors ; as" it was he struck down two pi his drunken /frenzy?bef ore he. in his turn, was felled from behind and rolled into the scuppers. a fun waxed . fast and furious as nor took full effect. Hie crew and sang round the capstan ; but, as there was no stint in the supply of , grog, first one land then another ntccumbed to the fiery, spirit, until all toy prone upon the deck. This deJraueh, with an occasional spell .of liruriken 'slumber, was kept up all day, jjrid night found the whole crew dead drunk, wjth no one to keep watoh'or fcven steer, and the ElUabeth UrTftin'g _t random upon the stormy • Tasman oceari.' • F«r three days»the weather continued fine, but on the fourth the wind became equally, backing and filling the sails, and threatening thia masts with destruction. Twojor three of those who bad been unable to keep up the oontinuous carouse, saw the danger in time, fend : made shift td get the vessel, on her E roper course, though none could .tell ow far she had drifted during the last few days. A savage,, quarrelsome spirit beMri to manifest itself among the crew. The: two men whom Stubbs had ; struck flown, M order to- be revenged, . chained " nim the deck by locking his irons to »n.©ye-bolt close by the maiririiast, and toaliciously threw the keys oyerboatd. Here he was : left, vwithoufe food or drink, during ihe whole day^nd suff^red the torments of thirst, but no no- ' vijbe was takei\ of his repeated calls for water, unless it were a brutal jest or blow. Captain Peters, forced to cook and _-.rye the food unassisted, had been re- . duced to a. very low state, arid his pomewhat feeble health could not withstand the unusual exertion. His utter . inability to fulfil the functions of 000k tod steward combined brought him much ill usage, and some .were so incensed with him for bringing their food half cooked that they proposed making an end of him forthwith. They knew that his presence on board was a' constant menace, but as none would -undertake^ his: duties, his wretched life Jiad, so far, been spared. : /^Now. then, Captain Keelhaul! Why |j|_j \-~i~ you burn my soup?" cried anrenohy,^^ throwing the bowl full^Nof the scalding mess in fisiface. ;•;" Call yourself a cook ? I cook you ;in your own cauldron." '•"Hang him from the yard-arml" exclaimed ope. .'■'■ '■„■* ■ Make him walk the plank I""'shouted another. » "Hangiric or walking the plank is too good for the imbecile!" cried Frenchy. "He was always threatening 1 to keel-haul us. ViWhy \hQh[ serve him with his own sauce?" '!■ ' • - *' Ay, ay!" shouted Peter. "I heard in Liverpool he keel-hauled his last C*bin boy, when the Elizabeth lay in L, ' •'. "' .' ' ..' ... -..- , •■..'■'; .• ■■' -r : ::..' '

U_1,1_,...1-M ■ !-. _■—■»»■_._ .11 -—_—■■ Table Bay.'' The lad lost his wits, and died before reaching borne." . Hearing these threats, Captain Peters began to beg for mercy. He besought them to hang him or let him walk the plank, anj'tbing rather than to be keel-hauled. The mention of the cabin-boy moved even his" callous nature, and awoke haunting memories of the emaciated figure stripped to undergo the cruel torture. But the louder he begged for mercy, the more determined were the men to make him pass through the frightful ordeal, and shouts of " Keel-haul him I Keel-haul the lubber 1" drowned his entreaties. "Strip him to the skin," said Frenchy, who took in hand the ordering of his punishment, a- job after his own heart. "Now, then! Fetch those lashings." They were brought, and Peters' hands tied together above his head. " Fetch the starboard brace from the yard-arm. Two of you pass a line' under the bows and bring it amid_hips." When this had been done, Peters' hands were made fast to the mainbrace tackle, aiid one end of the line, which had been passed under the ship's bottom, tied to his leg-irons, While the other was attached to the larboard brace. All was' now ready, the unfortunate victim lay stark upon the deck, his hands lashed to the tackle hanging from the starboard yard-arm, and his feet to a rope leading underthe -hip's bottom and fastened to the larboard brace. . "Hold!" shrieked Peters. "You haven't got it fixed right. I'll be drowned that way !" "Avast, there!" shouted / Evans, I who had come up on deck to see the s£ort. "Captain Peters is afraid he'll be' drowned afore you've finished keelhauling him." "The larboard tackle should be lengthened out and drawn under the ship's bottom as far* as it will go>" wailed the unhappy victim; who, notwithstanding the frightful torture in store for him, still clung desperately to life. '■„■' "In course it. should, Frenchy! Im surprised at you I The captain ain't worth a dam at cooking, or holystoning, or reefing and steering, or setting the sails, or navigating of a ship, but he can give any man points at keel-hauling. Slack out the tackle as he tells you." At a signal from Frenchy, the starboard taokle was hauled taut, till their wretched victim dangled in mid air, his; feet a short distance above the waves. "'Now then, Captain, say. your prayers, and remember the cabin boy, ' sang out the 1 carpenter. i ' . " Aire you 'all ready P" asked Frenchy, a gleam of savage joy ligKting up hiß sinister face. " Lower out . your starboard tackle, and take up the slack with your larboard." "That'- right, Frenchy," approved Sam. "You mustn't let him ; go too deep, but keep him close affairist the vessel. A true captain should stick by his ship." _ , ' In a' moment Captain Peters'- feet dipped under the water, 1 and with a look •of despair , his head disappeared below the surface. • ... ' The sailors, in high glee at having ;fchus turned the tables, made many a brutal _e_t, while they craned their, necks over the side to watch his body dragging' against the timbers. The yards had been set diagonally, in order that the braces should hang directly over her sides. ';' "Haul steady, boys I" cried Frenchy. " Not top ; hard, or you might pull the old sinner to pieces-" The victim's feet at last appeared above the waves on the opposite "side, and as his] body emerged it was seen to stream with blood- The barnacles which thickly encrusted the bottom E resented a sharp, jagged surface, and ad cut and torn his flesh to ribbons, the chest and thighs especially being frightfully lacerated. He was quickly landed on deck where he lay without showing a sign of life. ; "You chaps have done for him with your damned clumsiness," said Evans. "Fetch the doctor, one^o' you. No, Frenchy! You am t fit to command a ship when you botch a keel-hauling job that way.'* Graham appeared at this juncture. Although he had not seen what took place, the agonised cries informed him but too surely that Captain Peters'? time had come. He at once set about restoring the poor wretch's suspended animation. By rolling him to and fro, and working his arms, he- succeeded in relieving' him of much sea- water, and by decrees inflated his empty lungs. Slowly and painfully he came back to life; but Graham almost regretted his success in reviving the spark in the poor torn body, where he knew it could not flioker long. Having bound up his injuries he had him carried into Brooks' cabin and laid in his bunk. During the rest of that day Graham kept quietly in his cabin. By the ship's motion he guessed the wind must have increased in violence, and the view from his port showed an angry sea. ' • \ .■ Late in the afternoon, after attending on -Captain Peters^ who was sinking fast, he heard a g£eat commotion on deck, and on reaching it, was surprised to find _o strong %; gale now blowing. The helmsman, either drank or asleep, had allowed the vessel to be taken aback, which resulted in both fore and main-topgallant sails being blown Vway.- The torn| canvas flapped furiously in the "wind, cracking like pistol sho£_. . Bit 'by bit it disappeared, until the yards were left hare. The accident aroused among the crew who were riot stupefied witn drink to take steps to keep the IStf z-tbeth on her north-easterly course. !; When affairs op deck had assumed' some semblance of order, Graham went below to seek the solitude of his cabin, passing Black and r Evans, |on his way, helplessly drunk, * Hhj thoughts reverted to his absent friends and their voyage in the long-boat, a theme upon whioh he had dwelt every /day .sirioe their separation; and which was brought more vividly befprfe him this evening because of tihe extreme peril in which he himself stood. Since obtaining access to the rum, the] crew had utterly neglected ti(e_r duty, allowed the snip to drift at the mercy of wind and wave, and showjn no regard even for their own safety. Should the gale increase, Graham fully expected the ship to founder before . morning. He calculated, on the other hand,; that the spell of fine weather must have enabled the occupant^ of" the long-boat vto reach i port within twenty-four lours'jof leaving the Elizabeth, and^it brought consolation to think they were :&U safe [on dry land long erevthis* and that one, at anyrate, of the absent ones would not forget him. 4 By degrees he fell asleepyvahd remained so for sorae hours, *ute> oblivieus of what was taking pOibe but-] side. He was . rudely waked by being pitched out of his bunk. ,/ Scrambling to his feet, he made 'fiis/w'Jiiyltq'''tlie.J[

companion. It- was quite dark, and he expected every moment tnat the ship would turn right over. When, with difficulty, he had gained the deck he found the helm deserted, the ship abandoned to the mercy of the elements, drifting whithersoever the winds and waves listed ; broken spars and rigging mixed in inextricable confusion ; the vessel labouring so heavily m the trough of the sea that he expected every moment to see the masts rolled right out of her. He could see no one on deck to help him with the wheel, and he had to exert his utmost strength to put her before the gale. This steadied the Elizabeth, but she still plunged heavily with a rolling pitch, and he could see nothing beyond the mizs-en-mast. The binnacle was riot lighted, and he had to Bteer entirely by the wind, for he dared not leave tho wheel a moment. Tremendous seas followed the vessel, i and Graham, remembering the conver--1 satioris he had had with Nancy, and- ! her anxiety about being; pooped, could not look on these mountainous billows without apprehension. The Elizabeth still carried a good deal of sail, and travelled fast through the water. The sky, partially obscured by clouds, showed clear near the horizon, and presently the moon rose in this clear space, tipping the angry waves as with silver. For some time he was puzzled by the appearance of an oddly-shaped' cloud, which partially obscured the moon s disc. In outline it resembled a truncated cone, and, as it did not change its position, he was forced to the conclusion it must be land. The only shore in this direction was the almost unknowri group of islands called New . Zealand, first landed upon by white men -carcelv a generation before.. He remembered Black saying they were to steer between New Holland and New Zealand, arid knew that both wind and current had been setting the vessel towards the latter country. He wished- to consult Captain Cooks chart of these islands, which _ he had seen in the oaptain's cabin, in order to locate this solitary mountain top, and see how best to escape being driven ou to a lee shore, hut dared not leave the helm while the gale lasted. / There was something almost weird in the appearance of the distant peak, towenrig like a beacon over the stormy waters. . As no other land showed near, Graham concluded it must be a volcanic island, or some mountain so distant that only this lofty peak was visible. When the moon had attained some altitude above the horizon he lost sight of the mountain altogether, and saw neither it nor any other land during the remainder of that night. He how steered the proper course, judging his points by the moon, and, in order to give tho. land' a wide berth, stood as. much to the northward as he dared with the high sea then running. Soon after this the moon doubled over, her pale light only showing through an occasional rift in the heavy clouds whioh hurried across her face. The night was long, and the labour of steering very irksonie, and when day broke he was nearly worn out. As the light increased he made out the forms of several sailors lashed to the rigging, one of whom he called to his assistance, and persuaded him to take the wheel while he had some rest. The ga; _ had rather increas-d during the night, and soon after .daybreakwas accompanied by heavy rain-squalls. These effectually obscured any land, had ' such been within sight, and he saw no more of the solitary mountain top. Having instructed the sailor to steer north-we^t, and to search the horizon between the rain-squalls for land, he went below, completely tired but. While snatching a hasty meal he looked up Captain Cook's chart of New Zealand. The west coast of the two large islands, forming a long, sweeping curve, . nearly north and south, covered twelve degrees of latitude. About half-way up thai curve was a bold headland, surmounted by a high moun-i tain, named Mount Egmont, from eight to ten thousand feet in altitude. This must be the lofty peak which he had seen last night, standing like, a beacon athwart the moon's rising disc' The larid stretched a long way to the north of this mountain cone, terminating at Cape Maria Van Diemeri, near to which lay a small of islarids. He pricked off the ship's position as well as he could judge, and decided that the course must be nearly »due north for three hundred miles , to weather New Zealand. Ascending to the deck, he gave the helmsman this course, and, going back to his cabin, had hardly laid his head upon the pillow before sleep closed his eyes.

CHAPTER XIH,

A D_SE_tT SHOKB. . The long night's vigil had so wearied Graham that he did not wake till it was again growing dusk. The vessel seemed to labour more heavily than ever, and the storm showed no sign of abating. Feeling very hungry, he filled his pockets with bisouits and cheese, and before going on deck visited Captain Peters. He |ound him in exactly the same position as when he left him, but quite dead. "His troubles in this world are ended," thought Graham, and he wondered why such men were created. His life, while Graham had known him, .seemed to be only, a burden to himself and the cause of discord to everyone round him. Black and Evans were still in the cuddy, lying helplessly drunk, with the empty flagon between them. Graham was appalled by the sight that met his gaze on the deck/ and the havoc which the gale had wrought while he slept. The upper sails, with the exception of a few shreds hanging to the; bolt, ropes, -were blown quite away. Huge seas surged through a breeoh in the weather bulwarks, and those to leeward had altogether disappeared. Two or three sailors were congregated near the wheel, arid several were still lashed to the weather rigf ing, but many had been washed overoard. The boatswain, chained by the ankle near the main-mast, was quite dead, his inert body cashed this way and that by the treiriendous seas which sw6pt -.cross the main-deck, and it was a inaryel that his limbs Were riot .rerit asunder. N :,: \ ; , In vain did Graham scan the horizon for^ any sight . : of land. Nothing met his. gate' save angry wave-crests, often ; blbvrri .' flat ,by the terrific hurricane which now shrieked through the rigging arid dreriched the ship with sheets of hissing spray. Joining the group at the wheel, he saw, to his dismaJK, that the shipr headed north-east, a course that must inevitably carry; her right on. to the New Zealand coast, unless the gale moderated or the wind shifteu. Sky and water were of a dull . leaden hue, and the hurricane blew with a fierce persistence, that promised to ; last for many hours, if riot days. In reply to his queries, none of the sailors knew -the strange coast towards .whisk they hurried with such fatal

speed, but all had heard of the ferocious cannibals who inhabited tho wild, savage country. ! ,, \ A more northerly course could no, ba maintained because of the tremendous eea running, and it was expected every moment that the foresail, on which they solely depended for Keeping the ship before the wind, would be blown away. The men had not recovered from their debauch, and appeared dazed with the turmoil going on around. Spsrs, rigging and cordag. were so inextricably entangled that it was impossible to lay the vessel to. Graham did not understand the handling of a ship, and as no one was there to give orders, he could but let her drive before the hurricane, and trust in Providence. When the approaching night had obliterated every object save an occasional crest of white foam, the rain began to fall in torrents, and the .blasts grew j colder. It became, so dark that Graham could hardly distinguish the two sailors who stood at the wheel in front of him. 1 "What's yon?" asked one, pointing aloft. Graham, following the direction of his hand, saw a pale blue light flickering near the mainmast. It danced and wavered round the truck as the msst-head described a wide arc across the black vault of heaven with every roll of the ship, and looked as if tied b> an invisible cord. "The devil's lanterns!" replied his mate, after a terrified glance at the strange phenomenon. "My God! You're right!" exclaimed the first speaker. "We are a doomed ship." As thoy looked through the gathering rain-squall the pale blue star grew brighter, and gradually neared the mast, until it became fixed right pn the truck. Presently similarly lights appeared on the end of each yard-arm and the other mast, which gave the ship a ghastly aspect; 1 as if illumined by the fiends for her approaching destruction. They could see nothing of the moon, and were only aware that she had risen by the night becoming less pitchy dark. Drenching spray and pouring rain kept them shivering arid wet to the skin. The devil's lanterns remained for some time, and then disappeared one by one in the -ariie' mysteribus manner as they had arrived ; th_ last flickering round the main-truck for a few minutes before it finally vanished. While the helihsman's, attention was engrossed in watching the devil's lan-' terns/he had 'steered the ship mechanically, but when they were gone, and i idght shut down like a pall, their fears ii creased. One by one thdy slunk 1 away towards the cuddy companion, asserting that ? as the Elizabeth was a doomed ship, it was of no use continuing so hopeless a struggle. Graham tried in vain to persuade them to help him with the wheel.' His entreaties fell on deaf ears, and he guessed by the sounds of revelry which persistently rose from below ..hat. they sought forgetfulness in the ruin cask. The young squire, made of difterent stuff, would fight to the end. though the prospect could not well look blacker. Not more than, a dozen human he- { "Dig. survived on board the ill-fated;, vessel, but, with his solitary exception, ah were helpless from the effects of. drinking. On one thing Graham was resolved, viz., when day broke he would stave in every cask . of spifits, be the ccr sequences what they might; b,uthis prospect of ever seeing the dawn: was becoming very remote. Since first sighting the distant mountain, more ' than twenty - four hours ago, they had been driving before a furious gale, and though Gra~: ham tried, to keep her well' to the 1 north, the Elizabeth, with so little canvas set, must , have made _ a good deal of leeway, which would drive them directly towards the land. Upon a rough calculation, after sighting Mount Egmont, three hundred and fifty miles would take them clear of Cape Maria Van Diemen, and at the rate they travelled it would require at lease two days tp cover that distance. The Elizabeth, therefore, would not be out of danger for fully another twenty-four hours. But Graham was not aware that a ship in, a high sea makes but slow progress, however strong the favouring gale. To drive recklessly into the black night, knowing there, must be land somewhere directly ahead was a terrifying experience, and as the hours dragged wearily by, his imagination pictured an iron-bound coast, with billows dashing against a perpendicular face of solid rock, that would smash the fragile vessel into a thousand fragments. Several times he thought he oculd see the cliffs looming through the darkness, and he held his breath to J await the crash. j Suddenly, when least expecting it, j she struck heavily, throwing him vio- j lently against the wheel, to which he clung. He could see nothing of the j land. Then a huge wave, on whose I crest the Elizabeth seemed poised, Jiassed, as it were, from under her, and eft her listed sharply over to one side surrounded by a swirl of foaming The vessel lay absolutely still.' The rain and spray beat against him with redoubled fury, and the change, from violent rolling and pitching made Graham feel dazed and giddy. For a mo, ment he thought the ship had been driven into a harbour of refuge, and thafMie had only to await the gale^s abatement to reach the shore in safety. But only for a moment. Presently, out of the darkness behind appeared an enormous black wave, towering far above the poop, and advancing witji a fury so irresistible that Graham gave himself up for lost. Throwing his arms round the wheel, he took m a deep With a roar that almost stunned him, the water rushed down, but, fortunately, the crest did not burst irito foam 'until it got some, distance, from the poop. Nevertheless, the tremendous weight of water kept him jammed against the wheel, and seemed to crush his life out. He felt the ship lift, and again strike heavily; but the roller passed, leaving him still alive. This billow swept/the decks olean; no vestige of rail or bulwark remained. and he saw for the first time that all the masts were gone. Hardly had he ; taken this brief survey and partially ref amed his breath, when another ponerpus roller rose out of the night and aglairi buried .him below tons of rushing water. He felt that sbe could net.'sur- : yiye many of these w-ayes,' .. nor -yet would the ship be able to withstand the strain; and, as each one passed, portions of the forcastle were'; swept away. The last roller laid the wreck fairly on her beam-ends. ( .' V ; He expected the next to break her up entirely. The deck sloped nearly perperidicularly, and he clung to the upper side, having abandoned the friendly wheel in his endeavour to reach the highest point. He had' cut: a life-buoy adrift from near the pinnacle, and now

had nothing else to trust to. Before the next avalanche of water struck the poop he put this over his heafi. and, getting his arms round, grasped it convulsively with both hands. The approaching billow appeared larger than any of its predecessors. He saw it high above him. For a moment the black, cavernous wall hung suspended in the air, but this time the curving lip broke, and he was instantly whirled over and over in the seething foam like a chip in a mill-race. With the tenacity of a drowning man he clung to the life-buoy. After what seemed an eternity his head came to the surface, and when almost bursting with the agony of holding his breath so long, liis ears caught the unmistakable thunder of surf breaking on a sandy beach. Struggling desperately to keep on the crest of a billow he rapidly approached the strand; but all attempts to guide his course were quite futile, and he soon recognised that he was but the sport, of Fate. So roughly did the surges tumble him over on the beach, that the lifebelt was torn from his grasp, and he was flung more dead than alive on the hard, wet sand, gasping for breath and choking with sea water. With a supreme effort he crawled forward a few yards, and then fell down, senseless. Fortunately, for Graham the tide had turned, and no wave big enough to j float him reached the spot where he lay. j Had he not been parted from the lifebuoy at that particular moment, nothing could have prevented his being carried back among the raging billows, ! where his failing strength could not i have resisted their rude bufferings for many minutes. ; Graham lay on the sand for some time before his senses returned. By degrees he. became aware of the harsh cries of sea gulls, which were pecking in the seaweed, and the rollers thunder- | j ing on the beach just below him. . The wind still blew a hurricane and ragged , clouds raced across the dull, leaden sky, but it had ceased to rain. Stiff and bruised, he rose to his feet, and, walking up the beach, he sought shelter behind a low hill to escape the biting wind. Inland, his gaze encountered vast stretches of sloping sand, with here and there a few tufts of ooarse, creeping grass. Far over these plains appeared a low range >of hills, with what looked like patches of scrub grQwi»g where the declivity was too steep for the all-pervading grains to lie; but everywhere else, nothing but white sand ihet his eye. Feeling very weary he lay down in a sheltered nook and, instantly fell asleep. The labour of steering, and j his battle for life with the ocean, had exhausted all his energies, and when he awoke it was with, a craving for fOOd. ;, '■-...-•! _ The young man was certainly gaining experience of the world, .but it was -a.-v^ry different world from what he had pictured to himself when seated 1 on the Solway sands. Upon- the eve of embarking on what he had thought an idle .holiday excursion, but which proved to be his introduction to the hard experiences pf real life^ Graham had watched the evening's glow on Criffel's rounded summit, far away across the Solway Firth, and hailed the fascinating picture as prophetic' of What was in store for him. The sun's glancing beams, softening the mountains' rugged outline and tinting the barren stages ajj. alluring rose-colour, might hav^i been lik-ried to the hopeful aspira-ipns of youth, that' mercifully tingeV our future with bright hues, -and veil .from lis life's bitter ex-' periences and disappointments. Trouble and hardship had attended his ventureboth in the canoe and the Elizabeth, and both voyages had ended disastrously. To be swamped in the Solway Firth with a helpless: companion, . he had thought ' the most S forlorn situation in which it was possible for a man to find himself, but this was worse — far worse ! Cast by the tempest on a desolate shore, bareheaded and barefooted, without food, water, or even a weapon of defence, he was bereft of everything save his bare life. To look round on the forbidding prospect made him wonder if this gift, so grudgingly vouchsafed him, was an advantage,, and whether it would not have been a more merciful fate to have been drown-: ed at once. Unless food and water could be found, and that soon, he must die a lingering, miserable death. Even if this barren coast screened a fertile interior, and his strength enabled hiri. to reach it, he ran the risk of falling in with the savage inhabitants, known to the world only as ruthless foes. and ferocious cannibals. He remained sitting on the beach for some time, a prey to these gloomy forebodings. At length his dogged English nature began to assert- itself. " I must look round to see if any of those drunken brutes - have got ashore," he muttered. " Their voyage to Samoa has terminated somewhat abruptly. I, don't think the New Zealand damsels will worship them in exactly the way they expeot; it will be a more britical exainination, . solely with an eye to the pot.'V Walking back to the, > beach, where the thundering rollers almost deafened him, his view was restricted by clouds of spray to a few hundred yards In either direction. No trace of the Elizabeth was visible, a_d but little wreckage strewed the beach. He next set himself tp search systematically among the spars and timber which had come ashore, for any survivorß from |„the ship. . The only large piece of wreckage within, sight was a portion of the bulwarks. .'He also recognised a few planks from one of the boats, and further along two bales of cloth and a barrel of gunpowder, all saturated with salt water. This was cargo from j the main-hold, and showed conclusively that the ship must be quite ! broken ,up. At . some distance out to sea he descried one of- the masts grounded on a sand spit. Not a soul was to be seen, nor any ; trace of a survivor. Turning from this scene of destruction he bent his steps Inland, in search of water; tne sandy waste did not hold put much promise of success. •■;.; ' : .': ; V Ascending the (low hills previously mentioned, he reached an extensive plain, tp which the continually drifting sand gave a ,ha_yi indistiiict appearance, and the sharp grains, driven against his bare feet andlar&les, proj duced a pricking sensation. The hard, ribbed surface made progress fairly easy, though he occasionally sank to his knees in a drift. v. - Graham had travelled two ' miles across this arid plain when he noticed, at some distance ahead, a dark-colour-ed belt stretching oyer the level. It looked like: a river or lake, and he [hurried eagerly forward to slake his! burning thirst. On a nearer approach;! j it proved to be but a belt or scrub/. I Reaching the edge, he saw that what , in the. distance looked like small bushes [ were in reality trees from twenty to thirty feet high, growing; at the' bottom of a wide' depression -some fifteien; feet below the level oi the. sand plain. j&. , this particular

point, the encroaching sand had formed a steep, smooth declivity, with : quite a sharp edge, over which the grains continually shifted. Even as he watched, the hurrying particles, blown across the level plain, kept falling over, and when the accumulation became .too heavy for the loose base to .support, miniature avalanches took place, . and the sand slid to the bottom. The encroachment, though made with such minute particles, was evidently rapid, for several large trees were in process of being covered, as proved by his finding the leaves, buried several inches below, still green and fresh. As he stood on the- edge a great mass gave way and carried him to -the bottom, half buried in the yielding material. How the depression had escaped obliteration by the all-pervading sand he could not understand, for the trees, to judge by their curiously gnarled and stunted appearance, were or great age. Graham had ' some knowledge of botany, and it gave him a strange'sensation to encounter this growth of trees, bushes and ferns, ail entirely new, and quite unlike anything he had ever seen. Although there w£s no sign of water, and the ground looked sandy and dry, he saw numbers of strange ferns, mostly tough, thick-leaved species, growing upon the trunks and branches, and he perceived that the trees and bushes were likewise provided with small coriaceous leaves, well adapted to the situation. He found travelling far slower and more fatiguing here than on the level plain, for he had to climb cofttinually over fallen tree trunks, besides forcing his way through bushes which, in some places, were very dense or matted together with prickly, trailing vines, and to avoid a giant grass with broad, stiff leaves, as he found the serrated edges cut like a razor.

CHAPTER XIV. i

A .' CEITICAL DfTI-ODTTCTiOX. - | Graham, after clambering ( through this thicket for two or three hours, sat down to rest on. the mossy trunk of a prostrate . tree." Notwithstanding his thirst, his sore feet, the uninviting outlook, and his great fatigue, his attention was engrossed by the novel sights and sounds, which he encountered: at every few yards in this strarige new country. Although the trees, plants and bitds were quite unlike anything he had 'ever seen, and his eyes were constantly on the look out for points of difference, he recognised a harmony and agreement with their surroundings that spoke of gradual development ; the survival of the fittest carried on through countless centuries. t . However new the forms were, to him, he perceived they were no creations of yesterday.:" indeed; the predominance of gnarled, stunted trees^ ferns and giant, grasses gave this quaint forest an appearance of antedeluvian antiquity. The sun shone brilliantly, piercing the scanty foliage overhead and lighting up the bank near to which he sat, and on which he presently perceived a bright-eyed lizard darting .along with marvellous speed and agility. . So ; still did he . sit that the pretty creature approached close enough for him to see its eager little face and panting sides. At a Tittle distance grew, one of those branching palms which he had so \ often seen in the scrub, with round , tufted heads of light green leaves, and large branching spikes of flowers _ that perfumed the air all around with a rioh, pßrvading l fragrarip.e. The, only hright flowi-rsftha- met^nis cy 4 e i belonged tcT a; dark green 'clematis, with white, /starHke blossoms, which covered a hough with a perfect cacade of flowers: Clumps of . gigantic grass grew to a height _of several feet, and were surmounted with soft greer. lace-work, and : from the moss that covered the log on which he sat grew transparent ferns, shaped like a fairy cup. He saw but few birds,- though the air was filled with their cries from the tree tops. One, a little black and white fantail, hovered so near that he could have knocked it down with a stick; i$ had followed' him m for the last, half-hour, and now hopped" from twig to twig, flirting its wide-spread tail within a yard of his eyes, and occasionally caught sight of a large-billed kingfisher, passing across the glade like a flash of. blue. His ears were, greeted with- many strange cries, Borne harsh and percing, others moist melodious, and one bird possessed a musical, flutelike note which far surpassed in richness the songsters of his Cumberland home. Anxious to reach water, ere his thirst became unendurable, - : -. Graham pushed on again. After another Hour's struggle he reached the further side of the wooded belt, without seeing any sign of pond or stream. Ascending to the higher 'ground, he directed his course to a sloping ridge in front, but the hot sand scorched his tender feet and made walking very painful. : He persevered another hour, and reached the foot of a low mound that formed a terrace right across the val-: ley. ; The steep slope would not have daunted him under ordinary circumstances, but he was faint, and weary, and when he sank to his knees through the deceptively smooth surface, he threw himself down in despair. If no water had been met with in the lower part of this valley, how could he expect to find it further up? Perhaps it would be better to follow the coast on the chance of meeting with a river. This arid valley showed no trace of running water, though the rain must j have been pouring m torrents during the last two days. He dreaded hav--1 ing to struggle again through the wide belt of bush. Still it was better to turn now than after he had travelled several miles further into the interior. .It was tantalising to turn back from the terrace when so near the top, whence he might obtain an extensive view inland. Courage I It was but a few yards further. Summoning all his j resolution, he toiled painfully up the slope, floundering through the loose sand on hands and knees- On reaching the top he was overjoyed to see but a few yards from where he stood, a smaU lake or lagoon of bright,, dancing water. The sand-bank up which he had struggled with so muoh difficulty, stretched across the shallow valley, and seemed to dam the water back. The side next the lake ended in a sharp edge some twelve feet above the water, over which the drifting sand was being deposited in the same manner as in the hollow already passedGrahaih, thinking only of quenching his thirst, was about to descend, when he remembered how unexpectedly he had slid down the former bank, and should his experience in this case be similar he doubted his; ability to climb back again. It was torment to be within a few yards of the clear limpid water, his throat parched with thirst, and still find it beyond bis reach. / At some distance to \ the left, how-, ever, the barik^wherev-it joined the hillside, looked flatter, and he struggled along the artificiaWooHng dam in that direction. While plodding I^bonouslv forward he noticed that no plants [ ot ow at the water's edge— could it be saltP Such a possibility .almost : unnerved him. By a supreme effort he 1 reached the further side, descended to i

the water's edge, ' and with trembling hands dipped. some. up. No, thank God! It was fresh! His heart leapt for joy. It tasted cool and sweet as it trickled down 'his parched throat. Next he bathed his head and face and plunged his hot, wounded feet into the cool water. ■ This discovery raised his spirits. Here was an inexhaustible supply of life's first necessity, but he had still to find food. Following the shore, he rounded a projecting spur, and came in sight of the upper end of the lake. A dense forest oocupied.the valley bottom, extending inland as far as the eye could reach, and seemed to mark the limit of the sand - inroad. Instead of the whole country being a barren waste, as he had at first imagined it might be, it was clothed with a heavy mantle of dark-green forest. The sand-bar-ren,, restricted to a strip along the seacoast, wa^ only a fejs- miles wide. Continuing to .skirt the lake shore, he passed through some light scrub,; and soon 'reached the forest itself, before whioh he stood in dumb amazement. A dense growth of, trees, towering two hundred feet above his head, barred hia path; the ground below .hidden in an impenetrable growth ot ferns and underwood. Graham sat by the side of a small stream, which bubbled musically over its stony bed towards the lake, quite lost in astonishment. In whichever diiection he turned j his gaze was arrested by some luxuriant growth, beautiful beyond his wildest fancy. Here, the purple-grey trunk of a gigantic tree confronted him, supporting a canopy of drooping branches from which the pine-like foliage hung in long graceful tassels. High overhead in the mighty forks were bunches of brightgreen epiphytic plants, with broad leaves and orchid-like flowers. There, a massive column, was buried under a wealth of pendant ferns, verdant and cool.. In yet another direction he saw a grass with dark glossy blades, growing in tufts from a woody stalk that sprawled over everything, and above, this tangle waved thermost lovely treefern. The slender, slightly curving stem/decorated with a strange geometric'pattern up to the feathery crown which fretted , the sunlight passing thrbughy made a perfeot picture of symmetry and 1 graced Graham held his breath in wonder, while far in the "depths of this primeval forest he heard. the, musical song of strange birflij, -the wieird, metallic notes lending ari added mystery to its untrodden depths: He sat, lost in admiration, until the pangs of hunger reminded him that food must be searched for. He wondered on what he could' sustain life iri this vegetable paradise. Were any of these plants, growing; in such wild luxuriance, , edible ? Which were poisonous and which wholesomef What chance hgd he \,o£ catching those strange birds, jpSrched so high overhead as to be almost out of sight? - He felt awed by the solemn grandeur of the forest, arid dared • not venture to explore its recesses. ; Once entangled in the sylvan maze, escape, would be hop -less, ' and r he irisely' determined to, take his chance of what he could find in the more open country along its edge. ■After v proceeding in this way - tor some iiirie, ihe a grove of low trees, with : loose, papery bark, and small leaves, which emitted a strong aromatic perfume when crushed, i'bey were laden with small berries, abcut the, size, of a pea, , but; he was disappointed to find them, hard and wo/»dy, and so pungent in . flavour as to be quite unfit for food.-: Forcing his way up .a steep slope/he presently 'reached a plateau, on which stood many t'tad trees, though a rank: growth of bracken covered the ground underneath. He wondered what had killed all the trees alike, arid yet left the . bracken uninjured; indeed, the fern was m. thick that it greatly impeded his progress. The mystery, was presently explained when he stumbled over a stump unmistakably blackened by fire. A conflagration had evidently swept through the grove; killing all the trees, after which the fern would naturally spring up more vigorously. How had the fire originated? The question startled himl It must j have been lighted by human beings. The young man came to an abrupt halt, his eyes fixed, on the blackened stump, to which he had at first paid bu s little attention, but he now regarded, with looks of something like dismay.. St_oping down, he examined the smooth rounded surface with close attention. Perhaps it was "only natural decay, or the growth of some black fungus that the effect of fire. He rubbed it with his hand. It crumbled and left a black smear on his fingers, and the smell was unmistakably that of charred wood; but, to put the question beyond any doubt, he found in the fern close by several other similarly blackened stumps. : Then he remembered, with apprehension, the aocounts he had read of the savage inhabitants of New Zealand. How oruel and ferocious had been their behaviour to strangers visiting the country. He might come face to face with &. band -of the cannibals round the next bush! The rriere thought made him tremble and crouch but of sigjit in the tevn. . He had read in Cook's voyages of a boat's crew being enticed on shore by these wily savages, who, after showing where ; wood and water could be obtained, had treacherously fallen upon theiri. Not a man returned, and their shipmates, on searching next day, found only their bones, which showed 'Unmistakable signs of cannibalism. The whole aspect of things was now changed .for Graham. Instead of feasting his eyes on the strarige and beautiful products of Nature, he looked furtively about him for traces of slaughter and cannibalism. Where, but a minute before he had .walked openly, in the fancied security of .utter solitude, he now crouched .and dared not show an inch of his person above the fern. His eyes searched each bush apprehensively in dread pf discovering lurking, savages, and his ears were strained to catch the so'urid of human voices. ; '- The sea coast and sand-hills had such a wild, desolate appearance that Graham thought this part of the country uninhabited, and had 'taken no precautions against discovery; but the sight of these burnt stumps quite altered the case. • Hitherto he had formed ho plans for his future movements, r . All v his attention had , been giveri'td the need of providing the first two necessaries of lif e-^— forid and water. But this' unwelcome discovery forced him to consider some, future course of action. He soon decided that the natives must: be avoided at all costs, and his; best chance of so doing': lay in keeping to, the more desolate country along the sea-shore. /The prospect was riot pleasant;, his life must be that of a hunted animal,, and he must feed pn roots and berries, like a beast of the field. On such terms it was hardly worth having—better be clubbed and .

eaten by the savages at once. Aa hit thoughts dwelt on this gloomy prospect the image of Nancy rose before him at he had last seen her standing «p in the boat. What would he not, sire for ft sight of her sweet face at this' moment? In her service he would have met, with a light heart, dangers and hardships that now seemed ins-urmount-able. The thought made him rebel against his cruel fate, and nerved him to persevere in the appar-htiy hopeless struggle. Was/not the prospect of meeting her some day worth yean of toil and privation? He would '"follow this barren coast to Cape Maria Van Piemen — live, on shell-fish, if nothing else could be found — reach some .desolate island or promontory never visited by \the natives, and £here--w*_fcv;pati-ently his rescue by some passing. Wsel.. .. '";■'■ r v-' The prospect was not 'encoitfagingj but he oould think of nothing else, ana it was better than giving way to despair. = v .'•'." After a time Graham's fear of meeting the savages began to subside. Tbe high growth of fern proved tnet tne fire mtist have happened many months ago, and the unbroken surface showed no signs of disturbance by man's pro* sence. The little . fantails fluttered close to him, displaying so much curiosity and so little fear that he concluded they could not^ have muoh experience of human beings. No sound had broken the silence of this sylvan solitude during his watch save the twitt_ring of birds and the hum ; of . insects, and the dread that had at first taken such hold upon him began to subside. - During all this time he had been unconsciously eating the succulent 'fern sprouts; he found them not unpalatable, and in time they even appeased his hunger. Here was a discovery I At any rate he need not starve. Tne fern grew lush and rank after the fire, and the supply of young shoots was inexhaustible. It looked a larger and more, robust, variety than the. English bracken, and, though the taste became sickly in rime, he did riot feel any ill effects. . , As the evening began to close in. he determined to travel no further that day, but to make himself as comfortable for the night as circumstances would permit. Gathering a quantity of fern, he made quite a springy bed, and, in* spite of teasing. sandflies and .mosquitos, was soon asleep. Graham awoke the next morning much refreshed. Jumping , up, he stretched his limbs, and, except for being hungry, felt ready for a good long day's march. If he could cover twenty miles in a day the North Oape might be reached in a fortriight. It huisb his tender feet to walk among the trees and bushes; he therefore directed his course; towards the open sandhills. Judging his bearings by the sun, he pushed forward through the fern in a westerly direction^ and, 'as he walk ed, made a breakfast of the 1 young shoots ; but, as they tasted a little bitter this morning, he kept a sharp lookout for something sweater. . > Advancing thus for half a mile, he reached a ■■> clump of dark -green __ trees, among the' glanomg leaves of which his quick ■ eye detected bune_.es of green berries about the sise of grapes. In _us eagerness to reach the trees, he passed, without noticing it, a track leading through the grove. ■ . . -' ■ . Picking up a stick, he knocked down TTJburich oi thi~_^^^ and Eut theni to his mouth. They ..were ird and bitter. With a sigh of disP appointment, he threw .them away and looked round for something more palatable. He was horrified to observe, within twerity , yards, arid advancing stealthily towards him, a , group of hideous savages. The dreadfully sudden* encounter: made Graham's heart stand still. It was top late to r;un away, , arid^ what; chance had he of escaping these nimble-, footed barbarian-, fully armed aatbey weire, and knowing every inch of' the. ground? Unarmed and alone, he could', only appeal to their mercy.' Mercj?' He', almost laughed "at the idea or a, kindly feeling lurking in the hearts of such' bloodthirsty-looking warriors. All this passed through his mind like:, a flash as he advanced towards themin the open so that they should see that he was unarmed and alone.: •. Coining to a halt, he held out his hands in a supplicating attitude. ■ ; ...... The savages approached with the most, extraordinary. . antics and grimaces. The protruded tongues and rolling eyes gave their strangely tattooed faces; a most diabolical appearance. Each time they leaped,- or brandished a spear, the air rent with a blood-curdli-ing cry. Graham stood his ground while these yelling demons danced around Turn arid worked themselves, into a ' _rei__y, afc though he expected every .moment to have one of the long quivering spears launched at him. "' ■/ •.':"." During the last few weeks he had so .often faced death, and the prospect of 'his surviving shipwreck- on this savage coast was so improbable, that he had begun to feel almost indifferent about his fate. He eyed them cooUy and critically, and. without fear. . He perceived that their faces were. entirely cover-, ed with an intricate tracery of tattooing, which gave a peculiar directness, to their looks, and as he gazed upon the leader, he wondered, with a shud-. der, how long it would be before his mouth, so frightfully extended, would become bis tomb. "■• Their- extraordinary antics w-TO «lv_-' dently meant to terrify and intimidate liim, but were so extravagant and unlike anything he had ever seen, that, _ sheer desperation, he .burst out laughing. _. }/ It so happened that he could not have hit upon . a better, expedient to conoiliate tne savages arid divert their wrath. Though subject to fits of passion and blind fury ; like children, they were easily turned from, their purpose. This unexpected behaviour took them by surprise; neverbefore had w^ey met with a man whom the immediate prospect of a sudden and cruel, death had not frightened, or at least subdued to silence. Indeed, excepting their chiefs, who would meet death with a smile, such blood-curdling yells arid warlike demonstrations usually elicited cries for mercy from the unhappy victim. Here Was an unknown ; stranger, with fair white skin, who actually laughed in the face of death. Graham, perceiving their astonishment, prolonged hia laugh. Having discovered a way to turn away their hostility, he made the most of it. The Maoris, 'who respected courage in a man above every other quality, dropped the points of their weapons and gazed upon Graham with wondering eyes. yThe; leader, a grizzled old warrior, with high sloping forehead and well-formed features, advanced towards him.v He had been dressed in a coarse mat,, flung across the shoulders, but had thrown it aside on commencing his frantic dance, and was only distinguished frota his fellows by a black and white feather stuck jauntily into his thick hair, combed into a knot on. the top Of his head, and a tiger-shark's tooth dangling from one ear. Standing stark naked in front of Graham, who had at first mistaken the heavy tattooing on his thighs for striped drawers, he asked him several questions in a loud authoritative toner>The white man, not understanding a word, shook his head. The chief tned again

with like reisu.t, and as Graham feared this might irritate him, he diverted his attention by pointing to his own mouth end then rubbing his stomach. The signs .were readily understood; all the savages imitated them and talked with great volubility, often repeating the word "kai." '" Ah!" thought Graham, "Kai! that must have something to do with eating." Pointing again to his mouth he repeated the word." kai."/ The natives grinned, and, after jabbering together, closed round him and led him along a well-beaten footpath towards an open glade. (To be continued.)