Med, 1886, by BRAD”: AND ADAMS‘ Entered M the Post Office m. New York, N. L. nu Second Class Mnil Muller. Feb.90.1886. 2m Publishel Week] b Beadle and Adams 1’ ~1- , V01. nfil'cnl. Na 98 ‘VMIYAMYSTq NEW YORK. " Fiverétgnts. N0. 97. . or, YANKEE BOYS ruise of the F yaway, m GEYLON, BY C. DUNNING CLARK. TO THE AMAZEMENT OF ALL, THE CHARMER LEAFED UP AND GRAPPLED WITH THE TIGER IN THE AIR. 2 V Cruise of the Plyawuy. Cruise of the Flyaway; ’ YANKEE BOYS IN CEYLON. BY Grist—CLARK. CHAPTER I. THE FLYAWAY AT SEA—THE CINGALESE ’ PILOTS. THE scene opens on the spicy shores of the Indian seas, and a beautiful topsail schooner, under. easy sail, is seen run- ning through the bright sea at racing speed, winged out to catch every breath of air which came from the west. A schooner perfect in every line, a model of uty, grace, and speed. She was yacht built, after the American model; which is to say, she had rout breadth of beam, and was calculate to carry a great spread of canvas. Her prow was as sharp as a knife blade, and cut through the water with a hissing sound. Her canvas, as we have said, was remarkably heavy for so small a craft, but she stood u under it bravely and showed every qua ity of a good sea boat. She was painted black, with a red stripe, and white ports. With- J out intending to fight, she carried two r small brass six-pounders forward, kept ’. bright and clean by the crew, who potted the s, and talked,of what they would “do ' they met a Malay pirate in’ the nar- row seas beyond Indo-Uhina, where they meant to go after they had proved them- selves hunters amid the jungles of Cey- lon, for which island they were lmaded. The crew were neatly dressed—blue pants, Wide at the bottom, in true sailor style; close—fitting “ Guernsey's,” or J er- se , so called, and jackets of the same 0001‘, slashed with white. Upon the breast of the shirt at large capital “ F ” was worked in white. They wore Scotch ' caps with the word “ Flyaway” worked upon the band. The crew were ten in number, and evidently able seamen chosen for their skill in navigation. But , with them, at present we have little to do, but turn to the officers, who are all 'V on deck. They are four in number and wear uni- forms very much like those of the Ameri—- can navy bearing res ’tively the in- 'signiapf baptain, first meme second lieutenant, and sailing-masher. The cap- tain is a young man not over twenty-two, with a handsome, sunburned face, lafige gray eyes, and curlin brown hair. is figure is stalwart, an he is evidently a hard customer to meet in a close grapple. This is Richard Wade, owner and com- mander of the schooner F lyaway, New York, bound on a cruise of adventure in the eastern seas. The “first ” and “second” are his brothers; you can see that at a glance. The same bright expressive eyes, curling brown hair and strong build, although “ch” is only nineteen and “Will” a. year younger. The sailing-master is a man about forty five years of age, and every inch a sailor. His closely—cut hair is getting gray, and his face, by long exposure to the sun and wind, has become tanned to the color of mahogany. hands. from long use in the rigging and at the wheel and oar, are curved inward, and it is almost impossi- ble for him to open them entirely. In person he is short, but his shoulders are those of aHercules, and no man, after being once in the grip of sturdy Captain Dave Sawyer, ever “ hankered " after an- other hug. “Keep her north—east by east, you at the wheel !” owled Captain Dave. “Captain W e, if we don’t have a snorter before long, then I don’t know anything of the Injin seas.” “The Flyaway can stand it, Dave,” rc- plicd Richard Wade. “I reckon she can,” was the repl . “ There ain’t a boat of her inches, if I do say it, that is a patch alongside of this yacht. It did my old heart good to see icr walk away from that steamer when we came out of Cape Town. Give me the right Wind, and all the pots and lut- tles in creation can’t beat the Flya- wa .” “ The wind is going down,” remarked Ned, looking up at the sails, which no ‘ longerfilled. “ Are we going to have a. calm?" - “ Maybe so and maybe not,” answered the sailing-master, casting a. quick glance over the lee rail. “All on Flyaways— jum N Stand b to take 1n sail! ’ “ Bake in sai ?” cried Ned, in astonish- ment. “ We’d do better to send up the kites and ‘balloons’ instead. “ Captain Wade.” demanded the sail- it: 1, i i“ ' i Cruise of the Plyaway. 8") ing- , “what shall I do, since this young man chooses to interfere?” “ Do as you think right. Dave. At the same time, I don’t think Ned meant to interfere with you.” “Not at all; but it looks as if we were finng to have a calm, instead of a storm,” ed explained. “ You won’t have long to wait before 1ysou are satisfied on that p‘int, ” returned ave Sawyer. “Down with the main- sail and secure all! Be lively, my lads; jump, if you strain blood—vessels.” The men sprung to the work with a will, and in less then ten minutes, under their quick and skillful hands, the main- sail was down and secured, the forersail close-reefed, and the Flyaway moved slowl throu h the water, under close- reefedyforesa' and storm jib. “ I guess she will stand that,” muttered the sailing-master. “ Now, Ned, my boy ”——turnin to the first lieutenant— “me be I spo e a little sharp just now, but know these seas better than you. We are going to have a bu’ster.” “There is a. boat,” cried Will. They were miles from land, and yet, close upon them, a small light boat was lsap'ug' over the waves toward them. She w: built something like an Indian canoe, sharp at both ends, and had carried a smell trian- sail. But that was down now, and e two men in the boat were using their paddles, sending their light craft flying through the water at every stroke. They had seen the Flyaway and were heading for her. “Hail them!” sug sted Richard. “A ilot will be a good t ' g for us, if there is danger." “ No need to hail them,” replied the sailing-master. “ They are coming fast as they can.” The boat was now so near that they could see the brown and nearly naked bodies of the Cmgalese as they worked at the addles. A moment more, and the boatlay close to the side of the schooner, and a straight, supple form bounded upon deck, and placin his hands upon his forehead, made a ow obeisance. “ Let the sahibs listen to the words of their slaves!” he s ke in the sweet per- suasive voice w ic seems to be an attri- bute of the Km 00 race: “ A dark cloud hangs over them which will envelop ' and destroy them. Darkness will sur- round them; the breath of the tempest will suck them in.” “ Oh, give us arest,” re lied Dave Saw- yer, who understood the anguage of the Cingalese. “Does all that, bein‘ inter- preted, mean that we are going to have a wind?” “The Sahib Captain has heard the words of his devoted slave, and he has seen the dark cloud in the sky.” “Modo, you rascal!” cried Dave, sud- denly. “ How came you here?” This was addressed to the secondnative who was just climbing over the rail. The moment he saw Dave Se er he joined his hands over his h , and plunged head—foremost into the sea. “Call him back, the blasted thief,” roared Sawyer. “Does the cuss think that a native-born American sailor holds a, grudge forever? Tell him to come_ back; I won’t hurt him.” The man who was on deck shouted to his friend as his head appeared above the waves, in a tongue unknown to the young men. At first he seemed averse to returning, and appeared rather inclined to trusting to his wers as a swimmerto getting into the ands of Dave Sawyer. , But, after a while, he swam back slowly climbed into his boat, and again up on deck, his dark hair chipping with salt water. “ Now, ain’t you a. nice bird, Modo?” sneered Sawyer. “Don’t you think I ourrht to run on up on the main sheet and leave you gling there?” \ , The man, a wily s )ecimen of the native Cingalese, prostrate himself upon the deck at the feet of Sawyer. “Modo is at the feet of the Captain Sahib,” he whined. “He is as the dust of the earth before him for him to tread upon. Your slave has been in darkness, overpowered by the snares of the insidi~ ous. He was blown about as chafl" be“ fore the wind, and did not know which way to turn, when, in 'an evil hour, the temjmr came and led him away from so . gr ;: 1 and noble a. master.” “Oh, you skunkl Who tempted you to steal my best gun, and run away with my ship’s dingey?” “The evil spirit had power over the heart of Modo in that 11121;? My hour.” “Well, get up, you thief of the world. I ' .-:_._ {gmnzas Q. Cruise of the» Plyaway. I won’t say any more about it, though I promised to tan your hide the first time wemet.” The man arose with a peculiar look upon his face. Of all wily vagabonds none can egual those strange people, and they consi er it apart of their duty to Sfimll the E tiansm every possible way ut they h to deal with a man who understood them, and would be on his _ guard against them, and they knew it. .. _ it?” ., knock dewn. ,ber tha .” ' glish. “The skunks won’t try to fool me, cap- tain,” declared the sailing-master. “The ,lmow old Dave Sawyer, and that I w’ “What are those ts which seem to 00mg wigiréts?” askgg. ic’llizlilrd. . ea- m . ey are tryin to make head agZinstyit, but it is no useg: They make aterrible fuss in a wind like thlS. Steady, you at the wheel; help him, Barker.” One of the best amen the men stepped to the wheel, and melt is place with the man already there. They knew well that in these terrible winds the wheel has been literally torn from the hands of a. single man and the ship sunk before they could do anything to avert the ca— take the skin off their backs if they try lamt any games upon me. Here,.Modo, you browp thief, are we going to have a e? . “A terrible one, sahib.” “ From what direction?” Mode lifted his hand and pointed to the north-east. ,“Just as I thought, and I am afraid we can’t clear the coast. Now, see here; When the wind comes I am going to run before it, and depend upon ou totake me safe through the reefs. an you do “ The Captain Sahib knows that Modo “All right. I am going to trust you, but I tell you now that if you play any games on me, et the schooner ashore, or anything of t at sort, I am going to on on the head before we go am a man of my word; remem- . [is the best pilot in Ceylon. ” The man said nothing, but walked aft _ to‘ the man at the wheel. “Me ilot,” he said, in execrable En- “ Big 00d pilot, too You mind me Sahib S ' or.” ‘l Not just yet, Modo. When I ut the schooner in your hands you she. know ' it,” interrupting Sawyer. “ Wind come now, sahib "declared the Cingalese, pointing 'to the north-east ., agam- . . . ' V Every e e followed the direction of hlS finger, an saw, far away, in the distant horizon, what appeared to be a dark wall, rolling ra idly across the waves. In the midst of ' wall, and above it, number— , less dark spots could be seen, hurried to and fro by some mighty power. . 1“That is the Wind!’ cried Sawyer. ‘fI’m, mighty glad we stripped her in me. ’ 1 y. “ Hold hard all!” shouted Sawyer. “ Here it comes flying light.” The black wall rushed up rapidly, with a rush and roar like that of a thousand demons suddenly released. The sky turned black about them, and myriads of sea-birds, hurried forward by the mighty gale, passed all around and through the rigging, screaming out their fear. The so ooner received the first terrible stroke of the tem st a little on her quarter, and went over ' e a top; but the men at the wheel “touched her up a little,” and she righted, and shot ahead through the boil- ing surge, the wind whistling through her rigging, and every spar bendlélli; to the blast. But the Flyaway was b ‘ t of stanch material, and the tapering masts, althou h they bent like reeds, stood the testI ne of the Cingalese cowered and whimpered under the lee sail, but Mode, thief and vagabond as he was, was stanch and true. An hour passed and they saw before them the long, dark line which indicated land. “The schooner is yours, Modo,” now remarked the sailin —master. “If you take her safe throng the reefs, I_Will 've you the choice of five good rifles. If you fail—you know what wfll hap- pen p) Modo sprung upon the lee rail in spite of the dashing spray, and looked out ahead. Before them ran a lon line of breakers, and toward these the Elr‘lyaway was ing like a race-horse. But the dark ace of Mode showed no fear. He had spoken to the men at the wheel and iven them his signals for “ rt,” ‘zstar- ard,” and “amidships,” or no voice could have been heard at the distance of five feet in that anul wind. Through the line of breakers ran a dark seam no i ,. l é { i it it i 3. A? at: 3. tun Amusing-«NIL 'rr‘.<1h~wn,...;_w.< NF” “*5 ‘ s» 6. i Cruise of the Plyamay. 5 wider than a man’s hand, and throu h this 0 ning the Cingalese meant to 6 these ooner. The had little hope of safety, but beyond t e breakers the shore was seen, and there was a chance of life by swimming. The bow of the beautiful schooner rose into the air, and at the same moment the right hand of the pilot was lifted. “ Port! it is I” he howled. The helm went over and the schooner lunged into the dark line. A moment ater, when she seemed rushing upon a black rock which could be seen when the surgéa went down, Modo raised his left 11 . “Starboard! it is!” 1 For one terrible moment she dashed on, and all expected to hear the keel crash upon the rocks, when suddenly the Cin- galese leaped down with both hands raised above his h . “Helm ’midshipsl it is!” The schooner glided out of the dan- gerous breakers into the comparatively calm waters beyond, and at a signal the anchors went down to the coral reefs be- low and there clung. The schooner swun in toward the shore, the foresail and jib went down, and there she lay, pre to ride out the terrible storm. M 0 had earned his pardon. CHAPTER II. HUNTING TEE BUFFALO. FOR the rest of the day and the ni ht which followed, the Flyaway lay at er anchors, and the watch kept the deck. It was a stormy anchorage, but quite as good as Colombo, the chief city on that coast, which is nothing more than an open roadstead; and this was in a measure pr0~ tected by the reefs in front. Besides, at this point, there was a stronglgcmdertow, which acted rrainst the wind, eeping the schooner y. Morning broke, and the boy officers were on deck, breathing in the s icy fra- grance from the delightful isle. he odor of the cinnamon trees came to their nos- trils, the frail waved its umbrella- sha, dto in eair, andthedistantbay of e w' d do came to theirears. The were on the t hold of a land whic carries its history back for centm-ies—a small island having more population than many of the greatest States in our Umon ——an island which, small as it was, had once been the seat of seven independent monarchs at the same time—the land where Sir Samuel Baker, with “Rifle and Hound,” had struggled with the giant elephant, the tiger and the buffalo. “ Why can’t we land?” demanded Ned Wade. “I want to give the guns a trial.” “ We shall be at them soon, my be ,” explained the sailing—master, “I don’t want to stay inside these reefs any longer than is necessary.” “If the sahib will listen tothe words of his slave,” put in Modo, “and would like to hunt the buffalo, I can quickly take him to the place where they dwell.” “The rascal is a good hunter,” con- fessed Dave, turning to the youn men. “If he has a mind to be faithful, ere is not a better man in Ceylon to find the game.” ' V “This seems to be very good holding ground, and the wind has gone down, captain,” replied Richard. “ f you thin]; it safe for us to land with this fellow for a guide we will do so.” , “Mode, on know me pooty well by this time, out you?” The man replied by a grin. “I thought so. Now I’m going to send you ashore with these young men. they git hurt in the we of business I ' that’s their look—out, and don’t visit it on you. But, if they git hurt throu h the gineral cussidness of your natur’, El] skin you alive.” - “ May I eat dirt if I do not guideth American sahibs safely,” replied Mode. “All right. He is a brave fellow enough, and will fight until the last leg ‘ ' goes from under him, but he is a born thief. He steals 'ust for fun, and robbed me in a hundre ways when I was in Kandy in ’69. I can’t go with you, thin trip, because it’s my duty to look after the j‘ schooner, don’t you see.” “I’ll trust him,” aver-red Richard “Lower away the boats, and send us ashore. You only need put two men in each boat, to take care of them while we ’ are on the hunt.” ’" The boats were quickly in the water; " ‘ each of the young men pulling an ear, V ‘ and in half an hour they landed on the ' low shore. , They had taken ea two , rifles, both long~range ieces, which V e had chosen out of e many ode.de as the best, all things considered. , ’ was not quite as took the spare rifles proudly. 6 Cruise of the Plyaway. Mode had been nicknamed “Pete ” on the spot, and his companion, whose name was unpronounceable, received the beau- tiful nom de plume of “ Luke McGluke,” and bore the name proudly, as something given him by the “American sahihs,” for whom he had the highest respect. “Now then, Pete,” said Ned, “you promised to show us some game.” ,"I can do it, sahib,” answered the man, quietly, “and what I say shall be done. Do you want gun—bearer? Here are many.” As he spoke a motley crew of dark— faced men, in the same “undress” uni- form worn by the pilots, came trooping down to the beach. gPick out two,” ordered Richardi “ ou may carry my spare un, an Luke Can take charge of Ned’s. ’g I “I am a hunter!” replied Modo proudly. “I must have my own gun and shoot.” “All right I” responded Richard. “Pick out your men, and I will pay them.” . The men were quickly selected and Wi had 3. Winchester carbine, a sixteen-shooter, and, as a spare gun, the Remington. 110 00d a shot as his ‘ brothers, and, calcu ating upon this, he had a reserve in the repeating weapon, as : ,,he did not need to load so often. The men who had been selected as bearers looked down with lofty pride upon their compatriots, who had not been distm- is led by the sahibs from the West. hey ste ped oil’ with a martial air in the rear of t 6 little party ready, if the truth must be told, to run he black sheep in the hour of danger. The coast was low ‘ at this point, and they crossed a sort of eral, s swale, overgrown with thick jungle “Pete ” with the air of a major-gen— ked on in front, turning now >' Hand then to administer a haughtyreproof v to some of the bearers, who had presum- ed upon their sudden advancement so far ' as to speak aloud. After a march of half a mile they came to higher ground, and began the ascent of a little ric ge, covered with dense jungle, through which they fore their way with great difficulty. . o raised his hand for silence as they ' reached the top of the ridge, and the bearers began to lose the hau hty air which had so far distinguished em. “ Buffalo!” said the guide, briefly. They looked down into a little circular valley, in the center of which was asmall lake, or rather a large pond—for Ceylon has not any lakes properly so called. The banks of this pond were low and bare of vegetation, and a number of dark spots were seen, moving about upon the verge. At that distance, nearly three miles, the Americans could not make them out. But Will had a field-glass, which he brought to bear upon the moving objects. They were six in number, hu e creatures with sha gy fronts and cum rous horns —the wil ufl’alo of the East. “Hurrah!” cried Ned, as he took the glass in his turn. “ They are bior fellows, Dick. One, two, three, four f wn and two youn ’uns. Let‘s get at t em.” “Wait!” or cred Mode. “I can send the buffalo to you, and then you will not have so far to carry the heads. The American sahibs like the head best, and the Cingalese are not too roud to take what they leave. They w' eat the rest.” “Does he think we eat thelheads?” asked Will, laughin . “Do your work!’ commanded Rich- ard briefly. Modo turned to the bearers and spoke to them in their own ton ue. Two dropped their rifles and turne to the right and left, skirting the valley to reach the other side. “ There are two paths where the will come out,” announced Mode. “T is is ogre of them, and you are sure to get a s 0 .’ “I’ll stay here with the Winchester, boys,” decided Will Wade. “I’ll be bound the don’t 0 throu h this pass under the tusillade ’ll ‘ve t em.” “ Don’t kill them all fore they get to us, Will,” suggested Ned, laughing. “Oh no,” was the answer; "but you must not expect me to leave you more than one apiece.” The boys followed Pete across the crest of the rid 8 until they reached a lace where anot icr path led out of the v ey. On each side of this pass they stationed themselves and looked out toward the huge game, which had left the water now, and were feeding quiet] upon the rich grass further up the vafiey. Half an hour passed: then they saw one ,of the a3 2 awa-w ...-w~m.m... .. J ,' u‘. Cruise of the Plyaway. 7 bulls suddenly erect his head and look wildly toward the other side of the pond as two dark figures darted out, with wild shouts and uncouth gestures. The bear- ers who had been sent out b Modo were doing their work. Alarmedy by the sud- den ap arition, the bufi'aloes turned and tore ' dl down the valley, followed by the two carers on the run shouting and waving their hands a ve their heads. ‘ In spite of the frantic speed of the herd these men kept up to them, urg- ing them to new exertions as they ran. Will, crouchin in the jungle, saw that the were h ’ g directly for his ass, an laid his Winchester in the rest w 1ich he had formed by thrusting two crossed sticks into the earth, and, lying down be- hind it in the western style, with his left elbow on the earth, he waited. He knew well that the Winchester, while not so good as a breech or muzzle loader at long range, was trusty at close quarters, hence he did not fire until they were within easy) range. Then, looking through the dou le sights, he opened fire upon them. His first shot lanced from the horn of the leading b and stung him to madness, for a roar bloke from his throat of such terrible volume that, the bearer who stood behind the young hunter began to look down the ri ge to see which way he should run. At the second shot the bull went down, shot tlhirough the heart, mild the bealrl‘er presied t e s gunupon t e 'oun untcr or he hapdlxiever heard of 3a wega n which could be dischar ed more t twice. To his horror, t 1e youngster did not move, but sent another ball among the buffaloes with deadly effect, for a calf dro ped before it. The bearer started up, andp as the fourth shot echoed through the hills, he picked up his active heels and went flying thmugh the jungle, de- termined that not for fee or rem would he stay with a conjurcr, who had a gun which‘ was always loaded! The last shot did the business and the four remaining buffaloes turned away from that deadly fusillade, and went flying along the rid e in the direction of the second pass, l'tde dreaming of the reception which awaited them there. The rest of the party were waiting. They had witnessed from their hiding- place in the bushes, the valorous conduct of Will. and at one time Richard began to think that the boy would not evenbe as good as his word— give them “one apiece” to shoot at. But, when the herd turned and came tearing down toward them, they were all excitement. “ Here they come!” Whispered Dick, as he made ready his Remington. “Oh, look at them, will you! There is more real game in those fellows than half a dozen of our buffalo. Look at those horns—what heads for my museum !” “ Keep still," called Ned, softly, as he brought _up his breech-loader. "Here thely are. " hree rifles spoke to ether. for Modo fired with the rest, an what is more, made a capital shot. Richard’s bullet was flattened against the frontal bone of the leading bull: the second plunged for- ward with Ned’s ball in 1115 shoulder, while a third dropped dead in his tracks before the unerring aim of Pete.” The fourth, a gigantic bull, caught ' ' sight of Richard as he stood erect, reach- ing behind him for the s are rifle in the hands of “ Luke McGlu e." But that worthy, seeing the’bull char ing straight at them, at once showed a clean pair of heels, taking with him the two spare rifles. Besides the rifles the boys always carried revolvers, navy Colts, of the heav- iest kind. Richard snatched this wea n from his belt and fired three shots as est as he could cock the weapon. Every ball told, but the huge beast only shook\his shaggy head and dashed on. Two more shots were fired, when Ned pistol in hand, dashedu to aid his brother, reckless of ' ’4 his own 1fe. Dick fired his last shot when the muzzle of his wea the front of the Buffa o, and then bound- ino' rapidly aside he turned to run, when a ghout from Ned called him back. He did not hear the beat of )1me behind him, and whirling suddenly, he saw the . . buffalo slowly sinkin to the earth, the white foam drooping from his distended I .' nostrils. A moment more and he came tothe earth with a crash and they all saw that he was dead. fired when scarcel a pace separated ‘ them, had done t e work, piercing through the glaring eye to the ver brain. ' ’ " Richard drew a long sigh of relie . I “I thou ht I was done for,” he admit— r =._ ted. “ W ere is that scoundrel, Luke? v ~ 1‘ I’ll give him the worst dressing down He ever got.” i, \ 11 almost touched . ‘ ‘ he last shot, i / Cruise of the Plyaway. “ He is a coward ” said Pete, loftily. “You see that it is best to trust in one whose arm is mighty in the hunt? and in battle.” “You have behaved well,” replied Richard. “Will you speak to the Sahib Sawyer, and tell him so?” “Yes; load up again, and finish that fellow with the broken shoulder. The other is off.” _ Ned loaded quickly, and running up close, sent a ball through the heart of the wounded buffalo. The one which had been hit by Richard, in the first instance. had charged past them and escaped, but five out of the six had been laid low. At a peculiar si al from Modo, fifty Cingalese appears from as many hiding places, and, amid shouting and rejoicing. the heads were separated rom the bodies of the three largest bulls, and a >arty selectedto carry the calf which Wil had killed to the ship. The rest of the meat was 'ven to the villagers, and while that laste there was feasting and rejoicing among the Cin leSe. who remember to ‘this day the hour the Americans landed on their coast. “Luke McGluke " streaked back among the rest, but Rich‘ ardtook thegunsfrom him, “lifted” him . with all the force of a number eight boot ’ and so discharged him, while Pete looked on calmly, caring nothing for the dis- of his comrade. Then they re- ' turned to the schooner, and before night fall, with their trophies, they were out- side the reefs, headmo‘ toward Colombo, where they meant to land for supplies. CHAPTER III. HUNTING THE WILD HOG. " They did not stay long in Colombo, the main rt of the coast—first, because the place 'd not afiord good anchorage; and second, because of their taste of the ex: 'citement of hunting-life in Ceylon had made them anxious for more of the same sort. In Colombo they purchased need- ed supplies, and selected a man ascom- panion for “Pete,” whom that worthy recommended as equal to himself in knowledge of the country in which they proposed to hunt. Then they bought orses, each takin a spare one, in case one should be disa led in an we. . The V 3am horses carried the su p 'es, or they I d not'care to engage coo es until forced . . ,. ,. to do so by the character of the country through which they must pass. It took about three days to fit out, and at the end of that time the oung men, only accom anied by Dave ‘awyer, left the town, ter ordering the first mate to take the schooner to Point de Gallc,the1e to remain for thirty days. They rode out upon the beautiful road which the English troops had made in the direction qt Kandy where lay the best hunting grounds. All along the route, as they rode, they saw evidences of the primitive character of this peculiar people, who were then pre- paring the rice—fields for lanting, using a wooden plow, which did ittle more than scratch the surface of the earth. This plow, with one handle, was drawn b a pair of tame bufi’aloes, looking little 'ke the ferocious brutcs which the boys had encountered upon their first day’s hunt. They rode thirty miles that day, and made their uarters in a Cingalcsc vil- lage. The ead man, who understood the English language, invited the party to tarry for a day, or a “pig hunt ”—-a sport which Ca tain Savvyer well under- stood and delig ted in; so, of course be pressed the boys to stay, promising t em noble sport. They were only too willing to accept the invitation, and spent half the nig t in making their reparations. As they did not understandp the use of the boar-spear, the young hunters pre- ferred to use their rifles. At early morning they rode out of the village, accompanied by a crowd of na- tives on foot, to act as heaters. The head man had two dogs, rough, ungainly-look- ing creatures, but, as it afterward prov , like the traditional “singed cat better than tney looked. They sneaked on be- hind the horses, villainous in appearance but when once u on the hunting-ground their demeanor c an ; they stru gled with the leashes in w ich they werelield, and were wild to get at the game. It was a ride of four miles, through a broken count , somewhat resembling the foot- hills 0 California. The heaters made a circuit, holdin long bamboo poles in their hands wit which they thrashed the bushes, driving before them all the game within the circuit. “Now, my boys, ” called out Sawyer, “let me tell ou it is no boy’s play to hunt the Cey on boar. They are tough customers, and one rip of their tusks Will l Cruise of the Flyaway. 9 ' kill a horse on the spot. -. I’ve had many a. tussle with them, and I’d sooner fight an elephant. Aim well, and then get out of the way when they charge.” The bushes were now crashing under the rush of the coming game, as the shouts of the boaters were heard, and then there broke from cover a. drove of wild hogs of such ferocious aspect that the boys were startled. Huge, gaunt, with long, erect bristles, their great tusks gleaming white from their open jaws, and t eir small eyes sparklin with malignity as they came plungin (Town the rugged hill directly toward t e spot where the hunters stood, they were indeed “ugly customers.” “Forward!” cried the captain. “Let them have it.” Will made one leap from the saddle to the top of a great bowlder nearly six feet high, callin to his gun-bearer to take his horse. rom this secure eminence the lad sent a bullet into the shoulder of a. huge beast which charged him, and al- though the boar staggered he kept on, Withtllls mali t eyes fixed upon the boy on theroe . Rearin against it, he placed his fore feet upon t e edge of the rock, and made furious attempts to lea up. But Will stood there, confident an serene and let fly three balls in close suc— cessiom‘aiming at the exposed throat of the fearful beast. The last shot did the business, and the brute dropped, with a crash which shook the soil. “Done for!” cried Will. “Now to see what the others are doing.” He looked over the rough field. A strange and vvildTEanorama was spread out before him. e Cingalese had scat- tered in every direction to get out of the reach of the rushing drove. Sawyer, careless of dan er, had charged one of the largest of t e drove, boar-spear in hand. Awed b the furious charge, the boar turned an fled, but after him rode the captain with his spear at his hip, ready for a. blow. They scrambled over the crest of the hill together the boar only a little in advance of the horseman, who was riding at a. furious pace. The next moment they were out of sight. Will then looked back. Richard’s first shot had been fortunate and the pig at which he aimed was down, rolling over and over upon the earth in the agonies of death. Dropping his gun into the extended hand of his bearer, he caught a. boar~spear from another, and rode at a second animal, which, scatter- ing the natives before him, came charg- ing down the slope. Dick went after him at a mad gallop, with a wild cheer of delight and was soon close upon his sav- age~ coking game. The ho , with an ugly grunt, turned upon the orseman, and charged him furiously. Before Richard coul pull in the enraged creature was under his horse, and, lifting his huge head, struck the noble animal under- heath. One who has never witnessed the effect of such a blow can have no idea of the power of the boar. The horse gave a convulsive leap and bounded away, almost disemboweled by the blow his blood pouring out at every stride. bick had buried his spear twice in the body of the boar, but his vital arts had been beneath the body of t e horse, and although the keen spear passed through his body twice it seemed to have no other efiect than to render the hog doubly furi- ous with ra e; he rushed after the wound- » edhorse, w ‘c frantic with pain, had dashed away. e r beast was stag~ 1gltlaring weakly, his lood pouring from e ga ' wounds. Dick saw that if he kept e saddle, he must fall with the horse, when he would be entirely at the - mercy of the hog, if he should be injured ‘ or hampered in any way. Behind him thundered the boar, gaining upon him at every step; he loosened hlS feet in the stirzlilips and sprung suddenly to the ear In his school days, Richard had been a. famous runner and if he ever needed to put forth all powers, now was the time; and he set to work in a way which showed that he was in earnest. Sup sing that the boar would stop to vent rage upon the horse, he found himself much mistaken, for the small blazing e es were fixed upon him malig- nantly; t e boar would not even look at the stagger-in horse, but pursued the young man. fiichard ran for a hundred ards, thinking to 'n on the pursuer; ut, looking over his shoulder, he dis- covered that the beast was close upon him and gaining at every jumlp. Somethin must be one, and that quickly. e put forth all his energies to seeifhewasinanywaytheequalofthe 10 Cruise of the Plyaway. hog, but the efi'ort was useless. Whirl< ing suddenly, he lea ed into the air, and the “ pig ” passed un er him at full speed. So furious was his pace, that for the mo- ment the animal could not stop himself, and Richard had gained fifty feet in an other direction before the boar was again in pursuit. Will was on the rock, far . out of reach, Ned had trouble enough of his own to attend to, Captain Sawyer was out of sight, and the Clngalese were not the men to thrust themselves forward in an hour like this. “Pete” would have given him aid, but just then he was en— gaged in tr 'ng to save Ned, who was in an awkw position. Take it altogether there was no he e for aid from any one and Richard fe t that he must depen upon himself. “I will run no further,” he thought, gins ing his spear firmly. “ Live or die, w' end it here.” . ’ He loosened his knife in its sheath, , gasped his spear, and dropped upon his ee, With the shaft of the spear firmly hinted against a stone. The boar, the lood and foam droppin from his dis- tended jaWS, sprung at rim. Richard lowered the point of the s ar so that it struck the animal full in t e breast, and two-thirds of the len th of the stout spear \ was buried in his b0 . The shock over- threw the young iunter, but, as he sprung up, knife in hand, the huge brute lay dead at his feet, with the spear buried in his heart. .He started up, utteringa. shout of triumph, but casting his e es about him he be old the great peril of brother Edward. Drawing the spear from the body of the slain beast, Dick ran to the rescue. Ned was in danger, indeed. Like his older brother, he had fired at one of the pigs, and brought him to the earth; then, seizing a spear, he set off after another. More successful than Richard, he had planted the spear in the back of the game when the hog1 gave a leap which drag, e him out of t e saddle, and ‘he actu - y ali hted astride of the huge animal. 'till grasping the spear, he clung to it with the tenacity of terror, while the ani- mal began to run to and fro, seekin some avenue of escape. Mode woul have fired, but dared not do it while the lad remained upon the bags back. The Cing‘alese gave way with startling unani- mity whenever the boar came near them. his throne on the rock. This free ride was hardly pleasant to Ned Wade, but he did not dare to leap off, knowing that the boar would turn upon him the instant he did so. The spear, rankling in his flesh, galled the hog terribly; hence he strove in every possi- ble way to rid himself of his rider. Ned shouted for the dogs, but they were off after the pig which Sawyer had chased, and did not respond. Modo, with a spear in his hand, was rushing to the boy’s aid. Richard, still further away, was straining every nerve to reach him, but Ned felt that he could not hold on much longer. He would have used his knife, but that had been jolted from its sheath at the start; he really was weaponless. Des airing, he was about to leap off and take is chance. when a. fierce howl was heard; a. dark body Was launched at the furious boar. It was one of the dogs, returned in time to save him. Ned at once left his unruly steed, perfectly willing to resign him, and beckoned one of the bearers to advance with a . But “Pete,” fear- ing for the dogs ‘ a shot should be fired, dashed in with his spear. The boar, in— cumbered by the dogs, met him silently. But Modo easily eluded his €183.le110‘ charge, and darting to one sid plante the spear behind the shoulder, e sharp int passing completely through ' the cart. The work was done, and with a squal of gain, the brave brute staggered and fell, leeding his life away. “I’ve had a. free ride,” remarked Ned, “and I don’t want another. Hullo, Dick; how do you like it, yourself?” “ I will say this much, ’ replied Rich— ard. “I have done some hunting in my time, and have been in danger, but I never was so near death as I have been in the last half-hour.” “That is because on have not et re— duced it to a. science,’ shouted Wil from “Just look at me.” “ Oh yes I” retorted Ned. “You might know at Will would be in a safe place.” “Science, I tell you; science! I’ve seated myself here and have killed four pigs, while you have worked your life out to ln'll two, and have lost a. good horse into the bargain Three cheers for the old Winchester!" Will had staid upon the rock, and every time a pig was drlven near him, he ("iv ‘} w 4-} Nil-m ., .i I in .r... M _ rather like horses myself, and as you are Cruise of the Plyaway. 11 ‘ had taken a cool shot at it, and had aet- ! ually killed four. The natives looked at ‘ him in wonder, for they had not seen him load his weapon, and therefore regarded . him as a being of miraculous power. CHAPTER IV. THE COBRA AND SERPENT CHARMER. THE day’s sport had been glorious, sufficiently seasoned with danger to make it interesting. The poor people of the vicinity looked upon the hunters as their ; benefactors, and agreed to preserve thel heads of two of the largest boars to add to the collection which the boys were making. They went back to the village, minus one horse—Will‘boasting in his Elay way of the manifest advantage of a ‘ ’gh rock over a horse. “In the first place,” he said, “arock can’t throw you out of the saddle, and a. horse can. In the second, a wild boar may file his tusks against a rock until he gets tired of the sport, and the rock won’t 'V6 in; but a horse is not near so tough. have almost decided to discard horsesm future.” “ All right,” said Richard, as he plod- ded along on foot, and suiting action to word he pulled Will out of t 1e saddle. “I’ll ride this horse to the village. I so set against them you ought not to ride one.” He bounded into the saddle and rode away, kee ing out of the reach of the . boy, who elt that the tables were turned upon him in a far from pleasant manner. “ Oh, say, Die ” he shouted, “this is more than a joke. ’ “ Oh, no, Will; don’t you fret, for I will ride to the and tell them that you are on the way.’ I And in spite of the protestations of that practical 'oker, Will, he kept the horse, and Will to foot it to the village or take some other means of locomotion. Presently he was seen in conference with the head man, and at a rapid order given by the chief some of the cooliesvsiprung into the thicket of bamboos, and 11.1 sat down on a rock to wait for them. In a few moments these coolies joined the party on a trot, with a hasfily-consnuct- ed bamboo frame upon their shoulders, me Which W sat m stately pndemth his arms folded on his bosom. He was bound to ride to the village after all. “What do you say to my team, Dick?” he shouted. “ I’ve got. a four~in~hand, you see. That is more than you can say for that barr of bones under on. He isa regular old skeleton that iorse, and I wouldn’t change with you for any con- sideration. ” He stretched himself at full length up-' on the bamboos, and, spreadii a hand- kerchlef over his face, cnyoyc the ride hugely. His weight was nothing to the coo ies, accustomed to carry great bur- dens for a long distance. They had gone nearly two miles, when a man was seen to cross the path in front, at a rapid pace. “Who is that, Pete?” demanded Saw- , yer. “ Can it be Abenhua?” “It is I” re lied Mode, in an excited tone. “Sh- I call him?” “Yes; he will give the boys some sport. Besides, I would give anything he would go with us to Kandy.” Modo uttered a peculiar cry, at which the man halted and came toward them. He was a tall, gaunt, wiry fellow—a genuine Hindoo from the north, a man of gigantic strength, with a face so sad that the boys were in sympathy with him at once. He wore a white calico tunic, open at the breast leavin his massive bosom ex- posed. sanda were dusty and torn, and the knotted handkerchief about his forehead was stained with blood. At his back he carried a small oblong box, and in one hand a kind of flute, rudely form~ ed from a small joint of bamboo. “Abenhual ” cried Sawyer, bendin in the saddle to salute him, “I am glad to see you again.” “Abenhua has not looked on the face of the Captain Sahib for seven years,” replied the man, witha low bow. ‘ What od wind has blown his ship again in fie land of the Cingalese? ” - ' “I have come out with these younifi men to hunt the tiger and elephant. W you go with us again? ” ' “Abenhua promised that if the Cat}; tain Sahib came back he would again his servant.” “That is all right. snakes now? ” “ TWOv” answered Abenhua .5 Have you got any 12 Cruise1 of the Plyaway; “This is the best snake-charmer in Ceylon,” explained Sawyer, turning to the young men; “and as for juggling, he can do things that will make your hair stand on end. Show us the snakes, Abcnhua.” The man set the box upon the earth, and opening a small slide, thrust in his hand. There was a sh rht commotion in the box, and he wit 1d1'cw his hand, holding by the neck one of the largest of the venomous serpents of India as well as the most deadly—the cobra. di capello, or hooded snake—a huge crea- v ture, over four feet long, its beautiful mottled body sparkling in the rays of the sun as it coile about his wrist and arm. The ex anded hood, marked with a fig- ure in 1: 1e shape of a pair of spectacles; the thick body, with its beautiful mark— ings, and the scintillating e '05 proved it to be of that dreaded family Yet the snake—charmer did not appear to fear it in the least allowing it to coil about his neck and arm, and holding the head c§ose to his face, teasing it in every possi- b .e way. Yet the snake made no attempt tobite him, and they began to suspect that the fangs had been extracted. “The young men think that the ser- pent has no fangs, Abenhua,” said Saw- er. “So much do I think so that I will take the snake in my ham ,” said Rich- ard bending in the saddle to take the sn e. The charmer moved away with acry of alarm, and Sawyer caught the young man by the shoulders.” “A enhua never told a lie in his life,” he said. “ If he says that the serpent is dangerous, I, for one, require no other roof.” . “ It is dangerous,” replied the Hindoo. “ Let a. coolie bring me a bird.” One of the Cingalese, who carried on his shoulder a small pea-hen which he had snared,ap reached the snake-charmer and held out t e bird. Abcnhua took it and held it before the serpent, thrusting it against his head and teasing him in every possible way .until the SCI ienf- threw back his head, revealing the long white fangs, and struck the fowl in the neck. Abenhua held the fowl for a mo- ment, and then dropped it upon the earth. The bird made no attempt to escape, but remained seated upon the earth, ulterin g 10W. feeble cries of pain. Four minutes after she fell upon her side, fluttered a moment, and was dead. “Do you doubt now?” asked Sawyer. “Would you like to handle the snake?” “ Excuse me; I was a fool to doubt him but I did not think that the man “(-le dare to handle a really venomous snake so boldl .” “ e here,” said Ned eaking to ‘he charmer. “If that snake s ould bite you, would you reall die?” The man 100 at him a moment in silence and shook his head. (l Wily?” “Because I have the golden secret known only to my race—the antidote for the venom of the cobra.” “ Will you tell what it is?” “It is a secret, handed down through my tribe for many centuries.” “And wh not tell it for the common good of ' ” “ I only know one epic, and that people my own,” replie the man. “If a serpent should bite you, I would cure you. but I would do no more.” “ That will do for the snakes, Abcnhua. Now let us see some of your jugglery,” said Saw er. “ But where is Rona? don’t see or anywhere.” Abenhua. replaced the serpents in the box, and placing the flute to his li s began a low, soft, melodious strain. Att 10 sound the bushes parted, and there came fortha beautiful girl such a woman as the boys, unaccustomed to the East, had never seen. She was dressed in an Eastern cos- tu1ne,.a rich tunic of satin, slashed With gold, and over this a. blue jacket, embroid- ered with silver braid. She wore Turkish trowsers of ellow silk, and her feet were covered by ainty slippers which could not conceal the beauty of her little feet. A scarf was wrap ed about her head in the shape of a tur an, fastened in front by a blazing jewel—a black diamond. Her face was “ brown but comely ;” her features of the Oriental style, with great, brown. almond-shaped eyes and small, delicate mouth. Her hands were small, and loaded with rings of rare price. She approached with a free, careless step, and bent before Abenhua as before a mas- tcr. “ You have come at myrcall Rona,” he said. “ These men from‘ the West would witness our skill. Shall it be?" “ I am ready. my father.” she responds M. T “a. n he . ., I) id.” Cruise of the Plyaway. pd; “what you tell me that I will per- Orin.” He took two small bamboo cylinders from her hand and planted them upon the earth. Then, lifting her in his arms as though she had not been a. feather’s weight, he placed her so that one elbow rested upon one of the bamboo tubes and her foot upon another. Then he passed from one to another, tappin upon them softly with a small stick, ant to the won- der of the young men the cylinders began to increase in lenoth, risin higher and higher, until thefhad lite y carried the gl-ilrl up to the hight of fifteen feet from t e earth. Then, striking one of the bam— boos heavily, it began to recede leaving Rona calmly reclinin on her elbow, far above them. Then t 1e bamboo began to revolve slowly, and the girl revolved with it, supported only by her elbow, upon the point of the bamboo. Then the c armer made another sign, and she came floating down from above, slowly as a bird sinks, and alighted upon the earth close beside them, while the bamboo fell to the earth, apparently no larger than it was before. “ Wonderful!” cried Will. “ How do you explain that, new?” “ I don’t attempt to explain it,” replied Sawyer. “The tricks which Abenhua does are only tricks, it is true, but I want tosee any one else do them. Half the tricks which are performed by the ‘ 'ug- glers’ in America would be regardec as mere child’s play by such men as Aben- hua.” The charmer laughed, and raising his right hand he called to Renato cut it 01?! She tookalargeand sharp knife, and, raising it above her head, the charm- er extended his hand when she struck with all her force. The blood spurted from the severed wrist, and he held it up, the blood running like a fountain. “He has hurt himself,” cried Ned, leaping from the saddle. “Help him, Dick; try and sto the bleeding.” Sa er laughe as Rona caught at the save hand, which lay upon the earth, replaced it on the bleeding wrist, and covered it with a white cloth. After holdjn it there a. moment, she took away the 010%), and the charmer held up his hand uninjured in any way. “ These are small thin to do,” said the Hindoo. bowing 10w be ore them. “If the sahibs Wish it I will cut off Rona’s head before them and replace it in.” “ No, no 1” said Sawyer, hurrie y. “I have seen you do that trick once, and it is altogether too real. We have seen enough for the present, but, if you will follow us to the village, you shall go with us to the hunting - grounds of Kandy.” “Rona. must go, too. Where I go she must go also.” “ Of course,” answered Sawyer. “ That is understood.” “ Is she his daughter?” asked Richard, in a low tone. “ Yes,” replied Sawyer. “Is she not beautiful? Search through all the world and you will not find a better or purer girl than Rona. You should hear her sing and see her dance." “ ZVVe will see her dance when we get to the villa re.” “Not un ess she is in the mood. Rona is modest and does not like to Show off her accomplishments before the crowd." “She is beautil'ul, that I am willing to allow,” dceLared Richard. “Try your power upon the girl when we get to camp.” For some reason the rough sailor had a great influence over the beautiful Hin- doo girl; and so, when the lights were blazing, Rona sung the wild melodies of her native land in the voice of one in- spired, and danced an enchanting fio'ure ' to the music of her father’s flute. That night the younger lads went to their blankets raving about the beautiful i 1, but Richard threw cold water on threir rhapsodies. r “If she cares for any man it is for rough David Sawyer. But, be that as it may she is a good and beautiful girl, an her father is a great addition to our party. You must be careful not to do ~ anything to drive him awa '.” ' ‘he boys promised, and went to sleep to dream of dark-eyed Houris, dancing to ravishing measures and only awaken- ed when the sun—rays, streaming in their faces, warned them that it was time to be on the road. CHAPTER V. THE ROCK TEMPLE—THE PYTHON. THEY bogflit mete horses at the ' to accomm te those lately added to their party, and the next day, after the boar- J. 1 Cruise of the Plyaway. hunt, the party mounted and rode away to the north. Abenhua refused to ride, and laughed when they said that he would he left behind. I “You don’t know the Charmer,” said Sawyer. “ Why, boys, I’d back him, a hundred dollars to ten, to beat any horse in the party in a fifty-mile race. What do you say to that?” “It would not surprise me,” rcplicd‘ Richard. “My father knew an lndi .1) who used to carry the mail from ()swc o to Syracuse, in the State of how Yer , , about forty miles. He’d go down one day and back the next, carrying a heavy ‘ mail-bag, Winter and summer, thought no more of it than you orl would of a five-mile walk daily.” I “And this chap could do it just as / easy. Bescause, you understand, while a. ’ horse might beat him on level ground, he does not change his pace when going-up hill. You will see before the day’s march is over. ” Sawyer rode by the side of Rona, and talked to her in her native language. It was lain that they were well acquainted and liked one another well, and the boys winked at each other slyly. Yet know- ing that Dave Sawyer was an honorable man, one who could be trusted in any- thing, the did not wonder that the Hin- doo girl him. The march was a. long and arduous one. They stopped for an hour in the heat of the day, not far from a Cingalese ’ village, whose people came out to see the strangers. When the shy natives dis- covered the Charmer, they were satisfied: knowin that as he trusted few men upon ' earth; t ese must be friends; but the looked askance at Modo, ior, althoug his reputation was great as a hunter, it .was equally great as a thief. Shooting a deer or two for the use of ,the village, the march was resumed amid r the blessing of the simple Cingalese. ' They were now in the country of the 'Kandians~a land known in the annals of old times, and when theycamped in the afternoon, and the air grew cool, Sawyer spoke to one of the men in the I native tongue. The man made an an- . swer which leased the sailor, and he ’ turned to Rio ard. " , “Would you like to see one of those ‘ 91d rock temples of the Kandians?” and . “ Certainly I would,” replied Richard.‘ “ How far is it?” “ Not very far; Rona. will show us the Way.” “ Shall we take the horses?” “ No; it is not more than a mile, but a rough road.” The party which went to the temple consisted of the Americans, Rona and two natives. Modo and Abenhua re- mained to keep camp. Turning aside from the beaten path, they entered a dark forest, in the midst of cocoanut, palm and teak trees—a mag- nificent forest, full of trailing vines and pendent mosses. The chattering of monke s was heard, and droves of these active 'ttle creatures went leaping about in the branches, grinning and chattering, dro ping from branch to branch and“- sen ing the scattered leaves down upon them in green showers. “ I want cocoanuts ” observed Sawyer. “ Do as I do, and then stand from under.” He took up some small stones from the little stream which flowed through the forest, and began to hurl them into the trees. The monkeys looked down angrily at the intruders, and by way of answer, plucked the cocoa-nuts overhead, and be- gan to hurl them at the party with such good aim that the were forced to dodge rapidly to evade t em. When each had secured four or five nuts, they went on to an open o‘lade, and there stopped awhile to open the nuts. First they drank the rich milk little, like the sort which the boys in Yankee land so delight in and then broke the shells and scooped out the white pulp. When fully satisfied, they went on through the forest, and after along walk reached the temple which they sought. The priests no longer made their sacrifices here, the outer walls were covered with moss, but the grand structure showed the skill of the men long since assed away, who had once ruled 1n Kan y. It was built upon a rocky eminence-— or. rather, the cat bare rocks had once been excavated y mighty labor, and hewn into the shape of turrets and towers, with long passages, great rooms and staircases. From the spot where they stood a. stair- way of forty stpps led up to the great door of the temp e. p these steps they scram- l; as. Cruise. of the Plyaway. 15 bled, and reached the arched portal, but there the two natives paused, explaining that they dared not, for their lives, enter this holy place; they were not pure. Just at the door of the temple 3. beautiful spring bubbled out of the rocks, and ran down the side. Sawyer, heated by the walk, took a tin cup from his irdle, filled it at the spring, and was a ut to drink, when one of the men dashed it from his hand. “ Look here, my man,” the sailor said; “ I’ll have to give you a. lesson in polite- ness, I rather guess.” “The sahib must not drink,” replied the man, in a hurried tone. “ Is be mad? Does he not know that this s rim is sin/cred, and that only the gods iniof i t “ What will happen if I drink it?” de- manded the captain, taking up the cup again- “You will fall dead upon the spot,” responded the man, in a tone of horror. ‘ I’ve no doubt that you mean well, my man,” said Sawyer. “I am going to taste this water, and if you knock the cup out of in hand again, I shall feel compelled to mock you clean down the stefis.” e filled the cup and drank (lee 1y, while the Cingalese looked at him in or- ror, evidently surprised that he did not fall dead in his tracks. ()n the contrary, he seemed to like it, and took some more and was mightily refreshed. He asse the cup to the rest, and they par- took. 7 “Do not offer it to me,” said Rona, waving aside the cup. “ While I do not believe all the tales which have been handed down through long generations, I will not do that which our traditions forbid. Come into the temple, and let us go through it while there is yet da .” They entered awide portal an came into a. lofty room, arched like adome, the center of which was at least fifty feet from the floor. About the walls of this room were seated or standing stone fl res of the gods which the ancient dimis had worshiped. The surface of the rock, on every side was covered with paintings in the richest colors, in which paintings the great god Boodhoo (Buddha) was represented in every imag- inable posture. 1n the center of this great room was a beautiful Sagobah, eighteen feet in hight, rising above a flat ped upheld at the four corners by $ statues of the great god. In anotherpart of the room in a leeuinbent posture, was another statue of the same god, of '- antio size, being nearly thirty feet In ength, lying with its head resting upon its hand. The face was handsome and had an aspect of majesty in it which awed the young men, in spite of themselves, The ictures on the wall also re resented the eeds done by some great long passed away. It was a history, writtenin red, yellow and white, which the learned men ofCingalese knew how to read.” _ ” Let us go on,” said the captain. “ Tlfiere is another room. I tilfie 12:11 '1‘ ey passed through 3.110 or , and entered a room nearly as lar asege last, the walls of which were gliterally covered with paintings. Rona. ran them over carequ , giving the names of the heroes, and t e deeds which had brought them this distinction. Then she turned and entered a small chamber on the right, when they heard a. strange cry, and she disappeared from the doorway. Sawyer sprung forward and looked in, and to the surprise of the rest, drew a. heavy bowie at his belt and sprung in, with a. hoarse c of horror. but had happened? The small room was one set aside for the deeds of one of the most noted Kan- dian heroes. It was Rona’s intention to show them this apartment before she turned back to the camp). It was lighted by a. single window ut one side was rather dark, and she had stepped into the room before she was aware t at any dan- ger lurked in that black shadow. But scarcely had she taken three steps, when a, rustling, gliding sound was heard u n the floor, and some great monster—w t she could not tell—suddenly caught and dragged her down. Her arms were pin- ione to her sides, and fold after fold was wra dped about her body, so that she co not stir hand or foot. It was at that moment that she uttered a. terrified cry for help, which brought the captain to the door. He looked once, and sprung ' knife in hand ‘ hat did he see? ‘ Rona was in the folds of a. gem amonsterso large as to put has 0 those dwarfed and puny specimens of the from of pythons which we sometimes I / 18 Cruise of the Plyawuy. see in menageries; a monster of nearly thirty feet in length, of a yellowish color beneath, and brown above, and a body thicker than a man’s thigh. The head was covered with unsightlyllotches. dark- er than any other part of the body, and at a. glance he knew 1t. A “rock-snake!” But Dave Sawyer came of the fighting blood of the great West, and knew the wee n in his hand. 9 fiery eyes of the great python were fixed upon him, and to the surprise of all, he unooiled himself slowly from the now senseless form of Rona, and began to roll his ponderous length toward the Yankee. Dave waited the onset with his right hand raised high above his head, armed With a, glittering bowie. Richard, who had carried a boarspear, the better to assist him in walking through the tangled woods, and also as a means of defense ran in to aid his friend, while Will slipped to one side with his repeater. The small head of the monster was lifted ei ht feet from the earth, and he seemed to esitate upon which to descend when Richard hurled the boar-s mm, which passed com- pletely through t e neck of the monster. Now followed a. terrible scene. The t tail of the python whistled throu h 8 air With tremendous force, and Ric < ard was dashed against the wall, stuimed ‘and bleediIuif. Sawyer eluded the blows with diflic ty, but Rona still lay sense— less, and he feared that she was dead. He would not retreat and leave her there, and rushed in to seize her body and eat it awa , reckless of the danger. He ad ' her in his arms Shep} lasaw gian' tserpent again reare an a ut to upon him. He could do nothing incum- bered as he was, save hold up his lmife, in the hope that the monster would fall upon the edge. ' Crack, crack crack! “ Get out of the way I” cried “The b' thief is done for. ” ‘ . 8 boy had watched his opportunity, when the head of the snake was in the air, and had sent three bullets through the blotched and ugl head. Sawyer darted aside and rush out at the door carrying Rona in his arms, while Will and Ned caught up their brother and dragged him out. There was a terrible commo- tion in the small room, and then all was ' Sawyer ran out of the temple, still — carrying Rona, and pausin at the foun- tain laved her face and nec in the clear, bright water. In a few moments she re- vived and was able to sit up, when the captain assisted her to descend the ste s. Then the men went back, and with t e greatest difficulty dra ged out the bod ' of the snake and slid it own the ste 3. ‘he two natives remained to removet e skin, and to this da Will brags of the battle with the sna e in the temple and the superiority of his weapon over all others, and points to the stuffed skin of the py- thon in proof. ' CHAPTER VI. THE RED ANTS—THE DYING ELK. THE villages of the Cingalese were left behind, and the plunged into the midst of the forest of and . That forest cov- ered the ground w ich two hundred years before, had upheld flourishin cities and the grand monuments of stern skill. But the cities were gone and only the ruins of the temples and palaces, which time could hardly destroy, re- mained to mark the spot where the cities had been. The ele hant the tiger and/ the buffalo made their aunt amid the crumblin relics of the civilization passed away. iles away from any Village surrounded by trackless forests and jungles, they made their camp, and pre- pared for the battle with the greater game which they had not et met. Up to this ‘ time Will ade had been luck . Fortune had given it into his han s to have the laugh upon his brothers in evel instance, but the time was coming w en he was to get into trouble himself. After the first night in their new camp Will, Ned and Richard accompanied only by the charmer an the two dogs, left the camp for the pur- pose of killing small e for the camp supply. They carri their rifles in case‘ they should meet any game which their shot- could not touch, and double- barreed pieces for the smaller game. Will was a little in advance, for the rest had halted to drink at a beautiful spring, when, as the boy passed under a tree something which looked like a bent and decrepit old man, with a. flowing beard, stooped suddenly from the branches above and snatched his gun from his hands. It was the gra -bearded monke of Ceylon, and one o the largest ’ ,Ismséflzlswr; .,.. ,.., . UTE. ‘ 1_ 1,, ». 1 Cruise of the leawhyi 1? Will uttered a yell of anger as he saw his beautiful gun going up in the hands of this grinning satyr to the very top of one of the hu talipot trees, the leaves of which, s reading out like umbrellas, complete y screened him from view. Will, who had a. quick temper, literally danced with rage as he sent shot after shot from his revolver fiyin up into the tree, inwhich this remarka ie thief had taken refuge The other members of the party, who had seen the theft, fell to the earth in convulsions of laughter. “What do you mean b lyin there, teme the ground an laug ing at me? h don’t you help me to get my gun, you lockheads?” roared Wi . Even the 'm Charmer smiled at the situation. e knew well that it would be useless to attempt to get the monkey down, and as Ion as he kept himself concealed amongt 8 great leaves of the tree they could not get a shot at him. Will, nearly beside himself with rave, was running up and down in front of t 1e tree, trying to get si ht of his invisible foe, w en the mo ey make his ap- pearance, walking across the trailing vines which passed from one tree to an- other. Midwa between the trees he aused and flxe his eyes upon the party below, who began to cock their rifles. There is nothing on earth which a monkey will not tr to imitate, and he began to pull at the ammer of his gun, in imitation of them. “Stop,” said the Charmer. “Do not fire at him and you will see some sport.” He lifted the light gun which he carried and fired at graybeard. The latter had managed to cock the gun in some way, and was holding it in both hands with the butt against his breast, when he ac- cidentally touched the trigger. Ban l uttered a cry of delight as he saw the monkey fly Off the vine, literall kicked from his perch as the butt of the struck him in the breast. He loosed hold of the weapon and it came rat— tling down through the leaves, while the gray thief, turning a double somersault, came tumbling after. Half-wa down he caught a swaying bough and ung sus- pen ed. Before they could fire he spruiég 'up rapidly, and was again conceal among the leaves of the tafipog probably 5' ders in a, dry, the most astonished monkey in the wilder- ness of Ceylon. The boys laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks, and even the staid Charmer condescended to smile again. Will picked up his gun with a crest- fallen look, and proceeded to load the emp- , ty barrel. He was one of those practical ‘okers who can appreciate a good joke etter when it is on some one else, and {he laughter of his brothers did not please nn. “ How Sawyer will laugh when we tell him,” said Dick. I’d give fifty dollars to have had him here.’7 “ Oh, yes; wait until you get into a scrape and see how you like it,’ replied Will. ‘ “ I‘ll get even with you before we get through with this hunt.” “If you do the laugh will be on us,” said Dick. “ Come along.” Will, who was rather sulky at the ill- ' luck that had befallen him, again ran on I _ in advance, followed by his gun-bearer, the man they had hired in Colombo to take the place of “Luke McGluke.” He wanted to get ahead of the rest somehow, for if he could onl kill something before the got a chance 0 would have the best of t em. “Young master sahib,” said the bearer, “you be careful; s’pose you meet ele. phant, you git kill.” * “ I am not afraid of an elephant,” re- plied the boy, haughtily. “ You not afraid, maybe; s’pose ele- phant come, you be sorry.” They were passing through a little open glade in the midst of which arose a num- ber of conical mounds, nearly three feet - high. Hearing a noise in front, Will leaped on one of these to look ahead, in spite of the warning cry of the bearer and ’ t e shouts of the Charmer who was close behind. No sooner had his feet struck the mound than he went up to his shoul- wder—like earth, while‘a cackle of dehg t broke from the lips of the bearer. Hardly had ‘Will’s feet touched the solid earth below the mound when he was suddenly attacked in all _ arts of hilbody by savage bites, ike the st g of bees, The bearer caught him b the shoulder and dragged ltum out, f0 owed by myriads of "red ants, into whose palace he 1 broken. They swarmed about him like bees, and 18 Cruise of the f‘lyaway. he danced in agony, while he tried in vain to free himself of his troublesome enemies. “Pull off your clothes, sahib,” cried the Charmer. “It is the only way.” Assisted by the two natives, his clothes were rapidl stripped 011’ and flung aside while they brushed oil? the insects whic were clin ' g to his person, biting fierce- 1y. “ and Dick were forced to turn away to hide their laughter, for Will was mad enough to commit crime if he had seen them laughing now. At last he stood, a nude statue, with a hundred lumps rising on all parts of his body, _ Where he had been bitten. The Charmer ve his clothes to the bearer, and or- ered him to turn and shake them, brush- ibnag off every ant before he brought them k “ Now, don’t laugh,” said Will, grind- ing his‘teeth. “I am patient, I am very patien ” And to prove it, he foamed at the mouth! “It is not pleasant, I believe,” said ‘ Ned, “ but u on my word, I should have ' laughed— ah! take ’em off, some one! Oh, thunder and turf; blood and bones! The thieves have got on me!” Some of the scattered enemy had swarmed up Ned’s trowsers legs, while he ' stood laughing at Will, and had given . him a taste of the fun. Instantly Ned was transformed into a. raving maniac, dancin wildly about, and undressing himself more quickly than he had ever done before. ‘,‘ How do you like it?” demanded Will. “ If some of them would only pitch into ~ I Dick now, I could die happy.” i The Charmer had hurried away and . » now came back With a uantity of leaves, which he rapidly crus led to a pulp be- tween .two stones. This done, he anoint ed the‘body of the boy with the pulp, «and although it made him dance at first, the result was soon apparent in the rapid sub- sidin of the numerous bunches. Ned, who ad only been bitten in afew places was next attended to, and after they ha satisfied themselves that none of the ob- ' , noxious insects remained in thir cloth- inn‘. they Went on. . ’ But Will no longer marchedm front. ‘ He was satisfied that the Kandians were 4 better acquainted With the ways of these forests than he was, and. quite content to let them go in front. They were now a preaching a. “ tank ” or nd to which t e wild animals came to 'nk, and the bearers gave the word for caution. At last they reached a place where a path, beaten hard by the feet of heavy animals, led through a defile. “This is the place " said the Charmer. “They must come t 's way to get out_of the tank and you must give it to them when they come out. Remember that it is deer we want now, to make food for the cam .” The lunters were planted u n the high rocks on each side of the de ' e, from which they could pour the shot into the game as it passed, eight or ten feet below them. Will‘s bearer, accompanied by Pete, now left them, running along the sides of the ravine toward the tank. The bellowing of the buffalo the peculiar whistle of the deer and the gruntin of hogs, could be heard not far awa . elf an hour passed, and the crashing dis- charge of the guns—which the bearers had taken with them—-and their shrill cries, echoed through the rocky glen. Hardly had this been done when the noises at the tank increased and thou- sands of game birds, hares and such small game, went down the pass. Behind them the earth shook under the tread of com- ing hoofs and they knew that the huge game was comin . First came a drove of hogs. wild wit fear, their white teeth gleaming;1 as they dashed down the pass. ext a. erd of small deer. somewhat like the American red deer. U 11 these the boys opened With their revo vers, for they were ca ital meat. Next came a drove of buff 0, makin the earth shake beneath their feet an Will brought down a. fat cow an calf, while the rest. not having so many shotsto throw awa , waited, and not in vain, for behind 10 buifalo came a dozen elk, their great ant- lers tossing in the air. Every rifle was thrown forward, and as the elk dashed into the pass, shot after shot rained down upon them; and when they passed on, five elk, six red deer, and the buffalo cow and calf, lay extended on the sod. “A grand battue,” said Dick as he sprun down into the pass. “We may as wel butcher these fellows, and get them ready for the camp.” 1 at \ He walked up to the nearest elk, u gi— ntic fellow, with great branching ant- ers, and seizing him by the prong of his antler, drew his knife from its sheath and inserted the point in the loose skin upon the throat. He had scarcely done so when he was hurled backward with tremendous force, as the elk, which was onl wounded, strove to regain his feet. Ric lard, still clinging to the antler, en- deavored to strike, but the agile brute forced him back by sheer power of mus- cle, the extended an.lers keeping him so far away that he could not strike any vulnerable part. Snorting with rage and pain, the mingled blood and foam drop- ping from his arted lips, and his feet stain ing on 6 hard soil, the deer foug it on. So suddenly had he arisen, that, as luck would have it, every rifle was empty, and not a revolver m the party had a full chamber. Ned shook out the em ty shells from his revolver, and presse others in as rapidly as he could, before he sprung down to aid his brother. Then he leaped headlong from the rocks just as the elk shook off Rich- ard’s hold upon the antler and dashed at him with his head lowered. Richard bounded rs. idly aside and at the same moment a from Ned’s re- volver struck the elk near the base of the antlers, driving him to utter madness. Whirlin on his hind feet like a pivot, he dashed straight at Ned, regardless of the shower of balls which he sent at him. Close by his side, ran Dick, his bloody knife grasped and ready for a. blow. The elk rose in the air, intending to crush the brave lad beneath his fore feet, when Richard, darting in, buried his long bowie to the very hilt in his heart. The elk gave a gasping sob, and fell like a log at the very feet of the young hunters. ‘ Well done, Dick,” cried Ned. “ Now take a. lesson from a youn yourself, and never touc you are sure he is dead.” “ We have always something to learn on the hunting grounds,” replied Rich- ard. “One thing is certain; you have savedm life.” And t e brothers shook hands over the body of the slain elk. r hunter than , an elk until Gruise of the Flyaway‘. 19 CHAPTER VII. TEE COBRA-COY—AMONG THE ELE- PHANTS. THE next day was a beautiful one, and the Charmer said that he would find ele— phants and give them their first battle with the giant of the Ceylon forests. They had not yet seen one, although they had heard their trampling in the distance, and the natives at the last village had said that they had ‘ust been invaded by a great drove, whic had trampled down their fields and caused great destruction. Another man told of a rogue elephant, who had his haunt near where they were now camped, and had killed three men within a. month. , ' What is a rogue? As among human beings the rogue is not a pleasant character. On the con- trary he is a rough, pu acious individ- ual of his giant race, 'ving a solitary life; and, speaking in the vernacular, “ always spoiling for a fight.” They will charge anything they may chance to see, and in rigs jun le such creatures are to be tires-den, for e assailed man does not kJIC'W .‘ .v «anger until the huge beast comes crashing upon him. There was a rogue, then, in this part of the forest, and they must guard ' him, for they could not tell at what time he might take it into his head to charge through their camp, carrying death and terror in his trark. There was great pre- paration for the attack upon the king of . the forest; the larger guns were brought out, and the boys nreDm’ed for desoerate work. They marched at early daybreak, troop— ing through the forest in Indian file, Abenhua in front, and the coolies bring- 0 ing up the rear. Some of them were in mortal terror, for a report had passed that the big rogue had been seen on the night before, not far from their camp. A half- hour‘s march brought them to the stream known as the Dwina—Ora. A deep, beau- tiful stream, the banks lined with trees ‘ of great size, in which monkeys of va- rious shapes and sizes leaped and chatter- ed wildly at the strange apparitions below them. A strange creature started ufilbe- side the stream, and looked at em fiercely, clashing its pointed 'aws to- ' gether. A beautiful creature o the liz- ard s cies, marked u n the back and sides ‘ e the cobra. er Iona tongue 926' Cruise of the i‘lyaway. was thrust out, and brandished like the tongue of a serpent. She might have been eight or nine feet long, and had four short legs, more like fins, as indeed ! they were when in the water. “A cobra-coy!” cried Mode, evidently deli hted. “She is laying her eggs in the san and Will fight for them.” . “ is she good to eat?” asked Ned. , “Oh yes; you see.” , ‘ He caught up a heavy stick and leaped at her. The heavy tail swept the air and drove him back but immediately he ran in, and struck t e ueer beast a rap upon the nose. As Wit most of the lizard tribe, a blow upon this part is fatal, and the cobra-coy was dead. The Cingalese ‘ scraped away the sand near where she had stood, and began to pick out the eggs which were buriec a little below the sur- face. He found fifteen, about the size of a goose-e g, with very white shells, and very ha . “These are her eggs,” said Mode. “ I will send her back to the camp, and to- night I will make you a. soup which is better than turtle.” Two of the coolies lifted the cobra-coy upon their shoulders and ran back to the camp, with orders to join the party again .at a certain point on the river. At the lace where the cobra was killed was a, ord, and they stepped through the wa- r ter quickly, keeping a sharp look-out for - alligators. Dick, who was the last one , to cross, stepped upon a log which lay V close to the bank, and be an to stamp the water from his boots, w en the log be- came suddenly endowed with life, and i s for the water at a furious .ace. Dic ,gave one jum , which would ave " ‘ made’General W'as iington turn pale with envy and alighth on the bank, just as a big alligator, His jaws clashing together like castanets plunged headforemost into the stream. 2Will at once dropped upon the earth, roaring with laughter, as the body of his big brother flew through the air. He was avenged: the adventure in the ant—hill was wiped out now. “That was a lively log,” said Dick, . coolly. “I may thank my stars that I did not walk into his gaws. What are {gun roaring at, Will? 'd you eat any- ' disagreeable?” , I ‘V o; I was laughing to think—” ‘ _.:_‘Laughingl __ thought you had a cramp, or the cone, or something of that kind. Let’s get on.” ‘ Will followed, chuckling audibly as they proceeded, for he had een wa tin his chance in Silence ever since his bad luck of the day before. An hour passed, and they approached the hunting- grounds, a circular glade in the forest, ounded by the river upon half its cir- cumference. The timber was scattered in bunches, and in the open space was a short green and very sweet grass, 11 on whic the elephant loves to feed. he place was approached by a sort of cause- wa not more than twenty feet wide, an two hundred yards long. Upon each side of this place was a deep morass, through which it would be impossible for the ame to pass. “ Vait,” said the Charmer. “Here is the place Where we must stand.” A huge teak tree stood close beside the causeway. This tree was hollow, and could be entered by a small opening at the base. The moment Will saw this, he claimed it. “That will just suit him,” said Ned. “He wants to get into a hole with his blamed old Winchester, and take advan- tage of innocent little elephants.” “ Oh yes,” said Will. “But I get the best of you in everything.” “Except in ant-hills," said Richard. “There, don’t get mad, Will, but go into {four hole, and pull the hole in after you. 0w keep quiet and on will be sureto get a shot. We w' go on with Modo an'ilghe Chamlgé’ h 1 h e captain a uge e ep ant gun which he had bought at the Cape, al- though the he s laughed at it, and called it a mountain iowitzer. But the captain cared nothing for their laughing. “ Now see, said the Charmer. “You know the ground, Captain Sawyer, for we have hunted ele hants before. You take your bearer an go to the. big stone in the bend of the river. ' ‘ The captain hurried away, followed by his bearer. . - - “ You, Mode," continued the Charmer, “take our young master to the _ lace where 1e trees have fallen. He be safe there.” , Modo called to Ned and hurried away and the Charmer was left With Richard and two caches. Mun . J A.‘ u. x ‘ ‘ 7"}??? nag}. A I ~‘ r-l’ff ‘ \ gxxrwsnn.....~f ..<..; «A .u . A Cruise of the Plyaway. ' 21 “ Give them a. little time to get to their places," said Richard. “Where are you going to take me?” “ You are one of those whom I love,” said the Charmer, “ and I am oing to teach you how to hunt the edephant. You have heard it said that it takes many bullets to kill an elephant. Baht they are fools, and the sons of fools who sayso. ” “ What do you mean?” “ You shall see me stand and kill them with a single ball. You shall do it too, if you dare.” “ I wouldn’t give a penny for a hunt unless there was some little spice of danger in it,” replied the young man. “ I am with you, and whatever you do I will try to imitate to the best of my ability.” “ You can do no more,” said the Charm— er. “ Let us begin the sport.” The Charmer carried a heavy double- barreled rifle, which he handled like a. man who knew its use, and did not fear to trust his life to it. Richard used a breech—loader, considering it by far the most available weapon in any kind of field sports. He had the gun made es- pecially to carry a. very heavy ball, for such game as this. It was heavier than the common rifle, and a beautiful weapon. They stepped into the opening and began to cross toward a clump of trees wlnch stood in the center. “ Stand here,” said the Charmer, as he stepped among the trees. “I can tell you soon whether there are elephants at the river.” He was gone in a moment and Rich- ard moved slowly along the edge of the clump of timber, when his attention was attracted to a. rustling sound amid the leaves over his head. He looked up quickly and saw a long, pliant cylinder wrapped like a snake about ahandful of leaves. He had seen that peculiar cylinder too often to entertain a doubt that what he saw was the trunk of an elephant, engaged in feed- ing upon the leaves of the tree. He could now make out a gigantic body among the leaves. The head was upturned, as we have said, and the flexibletrunk handing down food at a rate which would have made the heart of the keeper of a board- ing-stable sick with grief. As yet the ele- phant had not seen him, and did not sus- pect his presence, but Richard knew that any attem t to retreat might bring him in range 0' those small, malignant eyes, and bring a charge upon him when he could not get as good an aim asnow. He was satisfied that he could drive a. ball into the brain of the elephant from where he stood. While he was in doubt the face of the' Charmer appeared not far awa and Richard knew that if he did not fire now he might never have a chance. His rifle was already cocked, and he brought it to his shoulder quietly, and took good aim. The giant towered above him a monster ten feet high at the shoulder, his great, yellow tusks, of ponderous size, piercing the leaves as he raised his head. l'wice Richard removed his rifle, not sat- isfied with his aim, and at the third at- tempt his finger touched the trigger. He did not turn to run, but with a presence of mind scarcely to be looked for in so young an elep ant-hunter, darted into the woods, passing so close to the side of the stricken elephant that he did not see ‘ him. The creature uttered a shrill trum- pet of pain, and charged madly out into the open space, blind with rage. But he had not taken a dozen steps when he stopped, his trunk drooped, and he fell dead in his tracks, the first elephant bagged in that campaign. “Good shoot, good shoot,” cried the Charmer. “I have nothing to teach you. The best hunter in Ceylon_eould not have done it better. This way, this way. ’ - They ran through the woods rapidly, . and as they reached the edge a herd of seven elephants came up from the river at a rapid ut awkward rate, rolling along- over the broken ground toward the open- ing by which they entered the feeding, 2' A. und. In doing this, the must pass y the point of the thicket in which the two hunters stood. ‘ “ Come out boldly ” cried the Charmer. ‘ “You are brave, an need not fear.” The darted out to ether, and as the herd caught sight of t em they changed their course, running toward that partof opening, in which Dave Sawyer was ~- hidden. But two great bulls tossing their trunks in the air, charged the two hunters boldly. The Charmer cocked both barrels of his rifle and ran forward. The elephant he had chosen ran toward him, trumpeting fiercely, with his head high in the air and his shrill note sound- ing out defiantl . The Charmer brought his rifle to 1113 s oulder and gave him one Cruise of the Plyaway. barrel in the same spot at which Richard had aimed. The giant stag red 3. little but kept on, and was almost a ve the hunter when the second shot was fired, this time with deadly efiect, and the elephant came down to his knees with his trunk upon the und. A moment more and he roll over on his side and lay motionless, the blood wellin from the ghastly wounds in his hea . The Charmer threw his rifle forward to load when he heard the crack of a in, and looking it quick- ly saw Richer in danger. He hat waited for the charge of the elephant as before, but just as he pulled the trigger a heavy leaf which dropped from the tree over his head fell 11 on the barrel of his gun. It was not muc 1, but enough to destroy his aim, and although the ball struck the ele hunt in the jaw, it only enraged him, and) he charged straight at the almost un- armed oung man. In his desperation Ric ’ drew his revolver, and com— menced firing at the knees of the monster. The shots told but of course had little effect upon the huge beast. Scarcely ton yards separated them, when, to the horror of Richard, the Charmer, unarmed, darted between him and the furious beast, and raising his hand in a lofty and command- ing gesture, shouted out some words in his native language, deliveied in aloft tone of command. At the same time hls ' burning eyes caught those of the elephant, who slackened his pace, and as the Char- mer shouted again, paused irresolutcly. Richard remembered what he had heard of the wonderful power of this man over the beasts of the forests, but had not believed it until now. The Charmer spread out his hands and advanced bold- l , ‘n thundering out a sentence in 1’ gin ostanee. The elephant faltered and began to step backward, and, as the gal- lant Hindoo still advanced, he turned ‘ suddenl and fled as if a hundred demons were at ' heels! “This is my power.” said the Charmer, ' ting to the flying beast. “ Even the E1111]; of the forest must bow to my Will.” Richard pressed his hand in silence, ‘ ‘ and they turned back, just as the report of a rifle was heard from the spot where the captain was seated on his rock. M CHAPTER VIII. DAVE SAWYER IN TROUBLE—A STRANGE SHOWER-BATH. SAWYER, with his bearer, had taken his place upon the top of a high rock, near which the elephants would be sure to pass in making their way out of the valley. The sailing-master had not come out here so much for his own. pleasure as to show the hunting-grounds to his young friends, by w om he was em~ ployed to do this work. He had hunted the royal beast before, and did not care particularly if the boys had all the fun. If the elephants came his way he would take a shot at them, but if not it was all the same to him. The rock on which he stood was a peculiar one, a huge bowlder, wlnch cropped out of the soil of the valle , only accessible from the rear, at whic there was a narrow but rugged footpath. From his elevated perch the captain could see the whole plain and he had seen Dick’s first lucky shot at the edge of the wood. “That boy has got the right sort of pluck,” he said. “He’s got more than that, good judgment, and that is more ' than you can say of Ned. Will is a queer one, and what he don’t know about tricks ain’t worth knowing, scarcely. ” At this moment he saw the second ele- phant go down before the deadl aim of the Charmer and the danger of lllichard. He uttered a perfect war-whoop as the elephant turned tail and ran down the valley after the troop, which had now nearly reached the rock where he sat. Preparing his rifle, he fired at the fore- most as the herd passed, and had the satisfaction of hearin the ball tell soundly upon her shoulder: “Oh, sahib!” roared the “ Lookee here.” He turned quickly, and saw that the surface of the rock was literally alive with snakes, creeping out of the crevices in every direction. It needed but a. sin- gle glance from his ex erienced eyes to tell what they were. here is no more beautiful or deadly snake in the island than the (rm-memo. Its backisofa en- ish hue, but seems to change its co or as the rays of the sun fall u n it. The under part is of a silve w ‘te, and the whole bod;r slender an delicate, They ooolie. I, aim, . . , . h l ,..?:":“:':~: w ~s,“ arr rm . A » “‘1 (J “ *"n 4 . .. ‘- "~:$.:43.w;<,:,.. > had started from the crevices of the rocks in all directions at the report of the gun, and were closing in on the hunter with wild, gleaming eyes. The bearer made one flying leap from the rock, and struck the earth ten feet below, darting out of sight behind the rocks. The captain knew his danger, and lost no time in fol- lowing. But the last was not the best in this case, for as he picked himself up after rolling over once or twice, he saw the elephant which had fled before the burnin eiejs1 of the Charmer close upon him is ' ghis tail from side to side, his‘small, malignant eyes sparkling with lie had jum d out of the frying-pan into the fire. ut there was no time to think about it, and dartin around the rock, the captain ran for his ife, while the elephant thundered after. He was plainly ashamed of himself for being forced to runb a man, and was determined to have ' revenge out of this fellow in front. Dave ran earnestly; in fact, as he said, “ when he undertook to do a thing he always liked to do it well.” He was heading for the river preferring to take the chances with the alligators sooner than his big friend in the rear, who was evidently ' 'ng on him. For, ungainly ashe is, e elephant can get over the und rapidly enough, as many a poor fellow has found. But Dave, having his heart in the work, ran nobly, and although the elephant gained, it was but slowly, and the river was not far away. Between himself and the river was an open green patch of ground, two hundred yards wide, but he doubted whether he could cross it in time to elude his furious enemy. Indeed, as he set his foot.upon the green turf, the trunk of the ele hant seemed to hang suspended over his ead. The man fled on, and felt the ground shake under his feet as he passed lightly over it; but looking up he saw that ominous cylinder bendin toward him, and reaching for his coat-tail in a way he did not like in the least. He “put on a spurt” and gained a little, whe 1. to his surprise, he heard a great plunging and spluttering behind him, and was about to look when he wept up to the waist in the treacherous morass, and gave himself up for lost. In his terror he wrenched himself out of the mud, turnin as he did so, in order to be able to face t e elephant. To 1113 delight, Cruise of the Plyaway. ' 28 he found his enemy in the same situation as himself, struggling to get forward, and at every effort sinking deeper and deeper. Sawyer utttered a perfect yell of delight, and drawbmrhis rifle toward him be 11 to load rapidly, while the elephant reac ed for him, stretching his rehensile trunk until it almost touch him. Sawyer wriggled back a little, put on a. cap, and took a snap—shot at the head of t e ele- iplhant, without trying to raise his wegpon igher than his breast. It took e ect, and the animal made another furious plunge, which only sunk him deeper in the mud. The beast was now com- pletely cowed, and trumpeted wildly in is terror, while the ca tain calmly loaded again, and as the belliemoth raised his head, sent a ball through his skull from below, piercing the brain. “.There, you old skunk!” roamed the captain. “How do you seem to like that?” The shot was fatal. The huge beast gave a sort of half—human sob and his head dropped upon the mud, and in a moment more every motion ceased, and he was dead. Sawyer, after satis ing himself that the animal was not s amming, by cut- ting into the trunk with his bowie, seized the trunk with both hands, and exerting all his stren th, dragged himself out of the mud an mounted the back of his dead enemy, Where he flap and indulged in a loud an crow. Then, taking a flyin leap from the back of the animal, i6 reached safe ground, and shouted for his bearer, who came crawling out, evidently in doubt ,, whether the mud—bedaubed fi before him was really the “ Captain ahi .” “Oh, come along, you thief of mis- ery,” roared Sawyer. “You can’t. do anv good now, so you may appear.” ‘he man came up slowly, and looked “ in awe at the ponderous form of the ele- phant, half-buried in the mud. - “ Big thief, that one,” he said; “ Ca. tain Sahib run like a man, that time.” “I’ve a good mind to mash you in the jaw,” roared Dave: “If you'say another word_I’ll give you one that will make you sic ." “There go other elephant, sahib,” re- . . plied the man, humbl . “Other young ' triumphant mans shoot.” hisarmsfi , _ / 24 Cruise of the Plyaway. The remainder of the herd were pas- sing through a causeway between the river and a huge pile of fallen timber thrown down by one of the hurricanes which sometimes sweep over the island. As they azed, Ned Wade and Pete, who were hid en under the logs opened fire upon the amazed animals, w 10 were now nearly frantic with rage and terror. They rushed at the logs, trum eting madly, but'their efforts were use ess. The two men, securely concealed from their fees, loaded and fired rapidly, and one of the herd had fallen before the realized that this was a losing ame, an turned to fl , . followed by the Slots and shouts of t e two hunters. Richard and the Charmer were rimning up rapidly to cut them off from the causeway, but the ele )hants got there first, and saw safety for t‘icmselves in the great jungle beyond, when Will opened on them from the hollow tree with such a bewildering hail of bullets that they paused dumfounded, not knowin which way to turn. Sixteen shots di , the boy pour into the astonished herd, and he was loading again to give them a new fusilade. when they again began to run. But, just as they reached the hollow tree, one of the animals, sorely wounded, leaned against the tree for support. It gilded, there came a loud crash, and ’ ill stood glaring at a huge elephant ly- ing on its back, with its four huge legs sticking up like gigantic bedposts. But he was strugglingl to regain his feet, and Will dove sud only into the hollow tree, or rather a section about twelve feet in length, which had broken off short when the tree came down. The elephant reached for him when he went in, and took away a piece of his hunting-shirt; for Will, seeing his danger, made a slash at the cloth with his knife, and it parted with a loud rip. "‘ There I” muttered Will, as he crawled into the dark recess of the loo‘. “ I don’t know what he will do next, but it occurs , to me that if he finds out how rotten this log is, he Will stamp me into the ground. I ain’t. sure that I chose a very safe place, after all. ” ' The elephant was on his feet, snuflin viciously about the log. Then he kneele V , in front of the opening and thrust in his trunk, which did not reach Will, who ' crawled as near the upper end as he could. But he did not like it in the least. and indeed the situation was rather awkward. A moment after he heard the elephant going awe. ,and crawled back to look; ‘he east ad not gone far, but was fill- ing his trunk with water at a pool beside the causeway. ' “I wonder what the big fool is goingto do now?" he muttered. He soon found out, for the animal turned and came back, malicious cunning spark- lin in his small eyes. Will she/[med bac into-the log, for he did not care to have the beast see him again. As before, he kneeled in front of the opening and thrust in his trunk, but Will only laughed at that. But his laughter was quickly turned to mourning, as a stream of dirty water, delivered with all the force of a. hydrant, struck him full in the face, drenching him from head to foot. If ever a young man was disgusted with his life, and perfectly willingtoquit, that oung man was Will Wade. He would have sold himself for a Portuguese rats, the thousandth part of v a dollar, and have taken payment in old clothes. He never felt meaner and smaller in his life than when that ele hant, having deliv- ered himself of his lbad, stalked calmly back to the water and filled up again. Wet and miserable, Will crawled own and looked out, hoping to see his friends coming to his aid. But as he ceased fir— ing, they came to the conclusion that the herd had escaped, and were coming in a. very leisurely manner, taking matters VBII'fi coolly, indeed, never dreaming that W' was in such desperate trouble. “Oh, wonlt they never come?” he gfisped, as he dove into his hole again at t e approach of the desperate-looking beast, with a new supply of fluid. Crowding himself as closely as he could into the. small space at the upper end of the log, he waited in breathless expecta- tion for the shower bath. It came, with terrible force, nearly taking him off through the other end of the log, and the e ephant, with cheerful patience, turned back to fill up again. It was )lain that he meant to fight it out on that ‘ne, no matter what happened. “Oh, ain’t this mean?” thou ht the boy. “They are loafing along, ta in it easy, and he’ll have me drowned be ore they get here. I’ll make a break for the jungle.” He drew himself slowly out of the log, . W 3:32;.» “new. ~ 3,..- ., -ng f mewv lmkknw v -._.9~_~.u..., we .a Cruise of the Plyaway. 1 /‘ 25 but this portable water—tank had his eye on the victim, and at once charged back. Will, seeing that he could not escape, dove into the hole a ain with an e'acula— tion which was no a prayer. T e ele- pliant having run him into his den, turned back quietly and again filled his trunk with water, while Will cursed; the unhappy fate which had led him to take refuge in the tree. Again the dirty flood poured in, but he was too wet and miserable now to care anything about it. “It can’t last forever,” he muttered, feebly. “Let him pour it on.” But the elephantwas tiring of the sport. He rose, after delu 'ng the boy for the last time, and looke hard at the log. Then he set his foot upon it, and bore some weight upon it, as if testing its strength. Apparently he was saying to himself: “ [his is not so ve strong, after all; I believe I will b it up.” He rose upon his hind legs and came down with all his force upon the log, which splintered and cracked beneath his weight. For the first time Will realized that he was in danger, for it would not take long at this rate to break the log into splinters. Again the mighty body rose into the air and came crashing down upon the log, breaking out a piece from the hollow shell at least three feet long. A cloud of dust fell about the boy and nearly strangled him, and he felt that all was lost. Again the heavy body came down, and this time a crack opened in the 10 so that the monster could see him his crack would have closed again, but for an upright piece of wood about four inches square, which had dropped in such a way that, while it only just touched the edges of the crack, it kept it open. Will saw this and had lifted his foot to kick it out, when the elephant thrust in his roboscis to seize him. Will kicked at t e block viciously, and had the satisfaction of see- ing the crack close like the jaws of a trap, while a scream of agony from the giant told that he was caught. Will cre t to the opening, shot himself out, an rolled away rapldly, to keep out of reach of the ponderous feet of the ele- phant, just as the party of hunters, wild with fear for his safet , came dashing up, the Charmer and M o in advance. Fhey rushed in at once and while the ele- phant cowered and reared like a great child, they put two balls through his head and the great body came crashing down, while Will, a frowsy and mud-be- daubed image, looked from face to face, ready to assail the first man or boy who dared to laugh. ' “Come, out with it! The first one who dares to laugh, down goes his shanty.” “We are not going to laugh at you, Will,” said Richard, kindly. “ My heart ‘ sa was in my mouth when W the tree down, and that great brute crashing down upon it. I thought on were done for.” “I got asnap on im,” replied Will, faintly. “But, by George! when he was pouring dirty water into that log, I felt meaner than a poleeat. I’ll tell you about it to-night in camp.” They cut off the tails of their game roof of their skill, and left the coolies ring in thetusks. Only three of the ele- phants had them, but this was far better than the average. And at night, when they fought their battles over, with Rona listening in wonder at their bravery, Will : and Dave Sawyer bore the laughter which ran round the fire at their adventures. For Will was wonderfully comforts]:i when he found that Dave had suffe nearly as much as himself. CHAPTER IX. THE menu’s LEAP—ABENHUA’S LEGACY. ’ FOR three weeks they had glorious ipogt, and grew fresher and stronger day y ay. But, as yet, they had not met the royal beast of the eastern jun les the tiger. » They had slain the e e hant, t e elk, the leopard, buffalo an deer without number; but as luck would have it, the , tiger had not come in their way, and the boys were mourning because they had not had a chance to feel their bones crack under under the jaws of the beautiful ani- mal they sou ht, and the Charmer saw that they WO (1 not return tothe schoon- er contented unless they had met the royal beast. “You seek the ti er.” he said, one day V When they were ta 'ing of returningto the schooner. “I have warned you against the terror of the jungles of Ce - K. lon, but you would not listen to me. be it, then; I will show you the lair of the tiger.” * The young hunters were delighted, and l final. ' the nedeay was set down as the “1‘ ' hunt. * have so long to wait before i \ 2‘. Cruise of' the f‘lyaw’ay. They did not sleep much that night, and at early morning, taking no one with them except the Charmer, they followed him into the jungle. He crossed the river on a raft of logs and struck across through the forest. It was a beauti- ful day one of the most beautiful they had yet seen in Ceylon. The forest teemed with life, the monkeys lea ed and chattered in the branches, the birds of varied plumage flitted through the leaves. In one part they came upon a flock of those strange birds, the toucan, with beaks so much out of proportion with the rest of the body, and their brilliant plumage shining amid the leaves. . Now and then a cobra or a carawilla, amused by their steps, glided out of sight among the grass, for the snake rarely attacks man unless there is no chance of escape. The deer, aroused from their harbor, started up at their approach, and went careeringsthrough the woods at their best 5 . ut not a trigger was drawn, for t ey had premised on that day not to waste lead upon any game less royal than the tiger himself. The Charmer strode on in front. His brow was dark and lowering, and he s oke little. Thus he always was when a ut to hunt the tiger, for an old pro- phecy had said that y a tiger he must meet his fate at last. Like all his race, he was superstitious in the extreme, and believed in these old prophecies and visions. Yet' he never shunned danger, and had willingly consented to lead them 1 against the tiger even though he met his ' gown fate. Two hours passed and the moody fit of the Charmer seemed to have infected the rest. “ See here, Abenhua, ” said Sawyer, “if you don’t like to 0 on this hunt, say so, , and we will turn 'ack.” ' ' f‘ Abenhua never turns back in the hour of danger,” was the reply. “Oh, I know that you are as brave as a. lion, 01d fellow; but that is not it. You don’t like to go on this hunt for some ’ . other reasOn.” ” See,” said the Hindoo. “ What will be, will be. If I am to die to-da , I shall not enter into my rest. There is one thing that troubles ‘ me, and' one only: when I am gone who Wlll be kind to my beautiful Rona?” ‘ “See here, old fellow. You know me. don’t you? I give you my word that if anything happens to you I will look upon Rona as my own sister, and guard her as carefully. You may trust me.” “I do,” replied the Charmer. “Then let fate do its worst, since Rona has a guardian so brave and true.” They climbed a 1'11”de ridge which led up amontr the foothills. The country was so like California that Richard almost imagined himself up among the foothills of the Sierras. At last they came to a circular platform, hemmed in on every side by mountain peaks—such a scene as the boys had often ' seen inthcir own land in other days. The Charmer took a bow from his back, and ordering them to halt, went away into the surrounding woods. He was not gone long when he was heard approaching, carrying in his arms a mountain ki , which he had disabled but not killed He drove a stake into the ground and made the kid fast, and then the arty drew back and sought places of she ter among the rocks. The kid at first endeavored to escape but finding itself tied, began to struggle and bleat moui’nfully. The pecu- liar wail sounded through the forest and mountains, and a peculiar smile passed over the face of the Hindoo. ‘ “ He will hear it, the great king of the " woods ” he said. “He will say: ‘ There is 1’0 for me and for my mate; let us go and take it.‘ He will come, and you will know What it is to fight with the royal tiger.” Half an hour passed, and nothing was heard. The boys were getting impatient, as the wailing of the kid seemed to bear no fruit. Suddenly a rustlin sound was heard, and the kid redou led his efforts to escape, and a warning whisper from the Charmer made them grasp their weapons, and throw them forward, ready for work. “ Oh, look, look!” he whispered: A gigantic black and yellow form came sudden into view on the right-hand side of t e opening, coming up t e ridge. The long, graceful body, the black and yellow stripes, the beautiful head and changing eyes, could belong to only one animal on earth, and that was the royal tigpr It was quickly followed by an- ot er, nearly as large, his mate, and more ferocious-looking by far. . They lay sie by side, motionless, if we except the u 33-531mm! :aaflm)‘ .: 7w; .-,: ‘ HA t «R‘s. .‘ : n- .w...» .a. lon tails, which waved slowly back and fort , while their gleamimr eyes were fixed upon the ‘strug ling ki , which had already seen its terri le enemies, as they crouched upon the earth. Then they began to glide slowly toward him, draw- ing themselves along the earth as the cat creeps toward the mouse. The boys waited, in eager expectation, ready to pour their fire into the fearful beasts, when the Charmer should give the word. Of one thing the were well assured: if they did not killithe tigers, the tigers would kill them. “ Just look atthem ” hissed Ned. “ M-y eye! I never dreame that any tiger ever grew as large as that .” “ uie ,” replied the Charmer. “ They hear you, and if they do we shall not get a good shot.” > The anlmals had now come so near that they could see that the kid was fast, and could not get away. It was evident that this puzzled them, and they did not know what to do about it. The kid, literally abject in its terror, had fallen trembling to the earth, and was moaning feebly. The b0 5 were in a fever to fire and save the kid, ut the Charmer restrained them. Nearer and nearer crept the tigers, and the bod of the male rose suddenly into the air, aunched straight at the kid,which was literal] covered by the heav body as it came own. But now, to t 0 sur— prise of all, a new actor appeared upon the scene. A she goat. stamping furious- ly, rushed out of the cover of the rocks, called by the plaintive moans of her kid, and rung upon the terrible enemy. Incre ible as it may seem, this timid beast assailed the destroyer of her young. It was the self-sacrifice of the mother, whether a brute or a human beng; ready to save her young at any hazard. T e tiger looked up With a snarl, lifted his huge paw, and the mother lay dead beside her young. The tigress crept up beside her mate and fastened her tceth in the body of the kid, sucking the blood oontentedly. As they lay, the offered a fair mark to the aim of the unters, and five rifles were brought to bear, two upon the tigress and three upon her mate. All aimed at the same spot, just behind the fore—shoulder. There was not a really bad marksman in the party, and it is no wonder that every Cruise of the Plyaway. 3" shot at that distance told roundly u n the hides of these forests bandits. The Charmer and Richard were the two who fired at the tigress, and they were not the men to miss. Indeed, their bullets were found to have passed into the body of the tigress within an inch of each other and both had passed completely through the heart of the huge beast. The long fore legs were stretched out convulsively, she gave a leap into the air, and fell like alog upon the earth, dead. The male had not fared so badly. As luck would have it, he lay in a place where a slight rise in the earth shielded him, and this rise, unknown to any of them, was a solid rock scarcely an inch below the grass. Those balls which were aimed so as to cut through the top of this hillock glanced from the rock and flew over the huge beast, and the others just cut the skin upon his back without doing more than enraging him. Scarcely ha the tigress fallen before the dead] aim of Richard and the Charmer, when t ey saw the body of the monster in the air, as’he came at them with reat leaps, e rrcr to avenge the death of is mate. W' , who was out of conceit with the Winchester had this day taken out his double—banded rifle, and had but a single shot, as had the captain. The others, using breech- loadcrs, were working to load as rapidly as possible, but they had not much time. ’ he elephant—gun roared once and Will sent a ball at the fierce brute, but it is not easy to‘ hit a tiger on the leap, and only one of the bullets touched him. but did not check his course in the least. Richard pressed down a cap and brought up his rifle as the tiger alighted Within ten feet of him, aiming between the glar- ing eyes. The instinct of the born hunter told him that his aim was true, and his finger touched the trigger. But only, the click of the falling hammer was heard, and the cap did not explode. The body of the animal again rose into the air, and Richard Wade whipped out his knife, when, to the amazement of all, the Char- mer leaped up and grappled with the tiger in the air. ‘ One brown hand was clinched in the r L loose skin upon the animal’s throat, and the other held his knife, which even as they fell to the earth together, he drove to the hilt in the body of the tiger. , A g. i ' more gallant deed, a. nobler act of self- 28 Cruise of the Plyaway. sacrifice, never was done by mortal man. It was done so quickly, too, that the two were on the earth together, rolling over and over, before they had time to think. Then Ned sprung in with his rifle, which was now loaded, but he dared not lire fearing to hit the Charmer, for the head of the tiger was close to his breast, and his strong white teeth fastened in the naked shoulder, a sickening sight. Saw- er and Richard rushed in with lifted ives, and the steel clashed to ether in ‘ the heart of the monster, whic , with a last effort of exfpiring strength, wrenched himself free rom the grasp of the Charmer, and actually tore the knives from the hands of the two Americans. But, as he gathered himself for another spring Ned shothim throu h the head, and the tawny beast rolle over, dead, before they could strike again. The Charmer started up, covered with blood from head to foot “We have won,” he cried. “Aben- ' ‘ hua has again saved the life of the young a American.” “ I will repay you, if such a thing can be done," cried Richard. _“ Give me your hand,” replied the Hmdoo. “ Say that Abenhua has been a true friend.” “ None better or truer in all the world,” replied Richard, gras in};r his hand. ‘I am paid,” said t e Charmer, feebly. He would have fallen, but Richard threw his strong am about him and held him 11 .* P“ Lay me down,” he gasped. “ Why ' should we struggle against fate? The prophecy said that Abenhua would die the tiger and the prophet did not lie. T e Snake-Charmer is sped.” “No, no; do not say it. You may be badl hurt, but we will save you ye .” _ . “ ou cannot save me. It is written that I shall die here, but before I go romise me that you will not leave my y a. rey to the wild dogs and the jackal. ury me deep, and heap stones above me, that I may rest in pcaca” He asked for a piece of talipot leaf and a knife. Working quickly he wrote some words in his own language with the point of the knife, folded it up and gave it to Saw er. “ ive it to Rona,” he said. “You will take care of me when I. am gone.” “I am here, Abenhua.” said Sawyer. “You know that I will not forsake you, living or dead.” “ I have something to say to you. Do you love Rona, the pride of my heart and the light of my eyes?” “ Dearly, if she only loved me.’7 “ Then listen; Rona loves you, and has loved you since the day she first saw you, when she was a. little child. You were not of my faith, and while I lived I could not bear to art with her. Now my race is run, and go to my fathers who have pfssed away. Dying, I leave her to you. ake her your wife; teach her the faith -of your people. Boodhoo is only another name for the One God you worship, and you only travel by another road to the same place. Will you treat her tenderly and let her not forget her father, the wild Charmer of Ceylon?” “God help me, and deal with me as I am true to her,” replied Sawyer. The dyin man pressed his hand, and a smile passed over his face. A moment more and Dave Sawyer laid the body of a dead man tenderly upon the earth. The great heart of the Serpent-Chamxer had ceased to beat. The boys had their way; the had found the tiger, and Abehhua h met his doom. CHAPTER X. FIRE IN THE J UNGLE—HOMEWARD BOUND. THEY were now without a guide since the Charmer had bid good—by to earth, and in a. part of the jungle with which they were not acquainted. Yet they were old woodsmen, and had no doubt by the aid of the compass, to be able to reach their old camp or, at least, some art of the country where they had been fore. They wou d not leave the body of the Charmer to the tender mercies of the wild dogs and jackals, and although they had but little time to spare, they selected a crevice in the ravine, laid the body ten- derly upon a ile of aromatic leaves, fled the stones hig above it, and left it ere alone. Then, slowly and sadly they took their weapons and marche , Sawyer taking the lead. “ I only wish we had Pete now,” said the sailing-master, looking up at the sky. “ I never was in this place before, and I don’t feel quite certain of the latitude. But a compass will fetch us out straight, I reckon.” A r. , In. \ x , ‘ u a J . ..,..J I Cruise of the Plyawny. 29 “Don’t you think it is clouding up some 2” said Richard. “ It looks smoky to the East,” replied Saw er. “I don t understand it myself, but judge we’d better hump along as live] as we can, or we may get into trou le.” “ For a mile or two they were able to follow their own course back, and then they lost the trail. The atmosphere was very oppressive. They were sensible of ahus feeling in the throat, a weight 11 n t e lungs, and a feathery dust tell a out them. Sawyer wet his finger and took up some of the dust which fell upon his arm, and tasted it. “ Ashes! ” he said, uietly. “By Geor e, boys, there is aqbig fire in the junrr e, somewhere.” 5 “ t can’t be our jungle?” queried Rich- ard, anxiously. “I don’t know; seems as if it was, be- cause there is little wind, and these ashes would not travel very far, light as they are. But, see here, if the fire is between us and the river, what shall we do?” N ‘(illurn back and get to the rocks,” said e . “ It mout be the best way, but there is a. heap of dry grass between the rocks and I don’t know how safe we would bet ere. If I knew how the river run, we might get to some bend and lay in the water until it assed. Hu! look there!” They ooked ahead, and there, scarcely a mile distant, they caught the red flashes among the trees which told that the fire was coming like a race-horse. As they turned back scarcely knowing which way to fly, they heard the clear blast of abugle which the captain had given to Rona, a mile to the north. “There is the gal,” cried the captain. “ Good Heaven! what is she doing here ?” “Answer her quickly,” cried Richard. “As she is here, she is as well with us as an here else.” _ awyer raised his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly. The whistle sounded throu h the woods in the distance, and soon t e beat of hoofs was heard, and Rona, her hair floating back from her shapely head, and her eyes wild, dashed up to them, mounted upon the sw1ftest horse in the camp. "Why are you here?” said 83 proachfully. ‘Was it not enough er, re- at our lives are in danger, but you must come to share it?” “Where is my father?” she demanded. Every head drooped. Not one of that party of brave fellows dared to tell her that her father was one. “ You do not spea ',” she said, faintly. “Is he dead? has the brave heart ceased to beat? Has the man who was oncea prince in his own land, fallen at last?1 Oh, my fatherl my father! Why was I not by to die with ou? Where shall I go? which way sh I turn, now that I am alone?” The ca tain took from his bosom the leaf whic the Charmer had ressed into his hand before he died. he read it quickly, pressed it to her lips, and put it into her bosom. “ You are my master,” she said humbly. “I will obey his dying words, but I fear that there is little hope for us. If you had horses you might get to the river in time, but the fire is too close.” “You, at least, may be saved,” replied Sawyer, hoarsely. “ The horse is swift and will carry Son to the high rocks two miles above. 0 on know the way ?” “ Do you think fly and leaveyou here?” said Rona. “I order vou to fly!” She leaped from the saddle and struck the horse a blow upon the flank. He sprung away at once, and Rona turned back, with a bri ht smile. “You have estroyed yourself,” the captain said. “ Why have you done this?” “ Come ” she replied “ If there is 'a chance of] life, I will share it with you; .‘ if there is none we will die together.” “ She can’t kee up with us,” said Ned. “ Take one ban and I will take the other, and we will help her along.” “There is not one in the part can beat me,” replied Rona. one chance for us, and only one. me, and swiftly.” She took the lead and ran on before them, with the ace and speed. of a young antelope, t e others following at their best speed. It was not the Jungle itself that was burning, but the dry grass and fallen trees and branches which cov- ,7 cred the round. On all sides of them . they sawt e denizens of the jungle - ing for their lives. Furious beasts, who would have assailed them boldly atarq . who “ T ere is Follow 30 Cruise of the Plyaway. other time, fled by at a furious speed. Wild dogs, jackals, leopards, tigers, even elephants went crashing through the jungle. beer and elk, with blazing eyes, and antlers thrown back on their shoul- ders, fled past them as they ran. And scarce half a mile behind them, a wall of flame, forty feet in hight, mixed with rolling columns of smoke, was racing down upon them. The hot breath of the ‘ tempest was in their ears, and the ashes fell about them in blinding showers. ' “On, on,” cried Rona. “Stop not now for your lives.” win was lagging behind, being the poorest runner 1n the party. Richard , turned back, caught is hand and dragged him on. But the lad was pant- ing for breath, and had not much more run in him. “‘Leave me,” he gasped. - r p itu , but you may be saved. Tell ’ them at ome that I died game.” “Come back, Ned,” cried Richard. ‘f Take his right hand and help him alon . How 18 that, Will, my boy?” ‘ “ etter, for the time; but 1 am nearly “I can’t j beat.” _ _ x A “Kee it up; never say (he, Will,” ' ‘ said N , encouragingly. “By George, there is the water.’ A quarter of a mile in front they caught the learn of water through the trees. The s1ght of that haven encour— ’Will, and he ran on with more courage. But that wall of fire was creep- ing ominously close, and the water yet seemed far away. “ If there is only a morass between us ,, and the water, we shall be all right,” d”Sawyer. “Hurrah; we are almost ere. flnzsd is the fire,” saig Dick. “ ' n grass won’t urn very eas' y. . “There is dry grass under it,” replied .Sa er, as they ran across the sort of ' r m ow between them and the water. “Go on; lam going to stay here and » a start a counter-fire.” “No, n'o,” said Richard. w15.513“) on!” thundered Dave. “Am I - alwaysto'be contradicted in this way?” , “1 Will stay with you,” said Rona, as the rest ran on. , “Rona,” replied the sailor. “When . , your father was dying he made me rom- . i.- me that I would watch over you. * -. hi‘mthat I loved you and would guard told you from all evil. I tell you now that I am all right if you will go on. If we. live, you are to be my Wife.” He can ht her to his breast and kissed her, and t en pointed to the water. She hesitated a moment, and then, coverin her face, ran after the rest. He walke after her in a leisurely manner, looking over his shoulder at the wall of flame rolling up, scarcely a hundred yards dis- tant. But he made no attempt to start his fire until Rona was so close to the water that she was out of danger when he pulled some dry grass, li hted 1t with a match, and ran u and oWn lighting the dry grass under t e green at various oints. It started with astonishing ve- ocity, and he was forced to dash through the wall of flame which his own hand had made, in order to reach the water. As it was the flames were close at his heels before he reached the water into which he dashed to put out his burning clothes. Luckily, at this point, there was very little except rass, and that very green at the top. Tie fire which he had started cleared out the dr grass beneath and spread out to the rig t and left, an they stood in the water watching it. The great wall which had pursued themso long reaching the place where he had kindled his fire, spread also to the right and left, and could do them no great harm. But they were in an oven. All about them blazing yramids ran 11 to- ward the zenith, as the flames climbe the high trees, catching the dry tendrils of the vines, and shriveling up the great loaves of the huge talipot trees like tin- der. They were not in the river,‘but in one of those strange “tanks” which are frequented b the huge animals of the island in the eat of the day. As far out as they could see, the water was dotted with moving forms. Elephants, with only their huge backs and heads rising above the water; state] elks, cheek by jowl with the tiger and eopard, their tra- ditional foes; and the jackal and red deer standing or swimming side by side. These animals never noticed that their enemy, man, had taken refuge with them in the water. Again anda ain great trees, sapped at the roots by file fires, came tumbling into the water sending clouds of steam intothe air. Theheatgrew intense. They were forced to b their heads be- neath the surface, only caving their lips rum:- g%”« u...“— r. ' . n r“";"’!76: Cruise of the Plyaway. 31 and nostrils exposed and spreading wet handkerchiefs overt en‘ faces, after cut- ting breathing-holes in them. But at length the fire assed on, and the step- ped out upon tie smoldering ba {, and ooked about them on ascene of utter des- olation. Only the huge trunks of the tahpots, teaks and hquidambers remained. an these bare, leafless, scorched and blackened. lVever had the young men been Witnesses of such a gloomy scene, and the tears stood in the eyes of Rona. . “ It was a. beautiful land and he loved it well.” she said, sadly. “ Now that we are safe, I can weep for the dead. The prophet spoke truly when he said that he would (he by the tlger. Do you know Wh at he Wrote upon the tahpot-leaf ?” "‘ No,” replled Sawyer. I She put the plece of leaf Into hIS hand and he read there in Huidostanee: "Light of my eyes, Abenhua, once a prince in Kandy, bids you farewell. I have said that you love the American, and he loves you. Give ymnisclf to him without fear and he will make you his \Vlte and 20 with you to the land beyond the sea. Let his faith be your faith; his God vour God. Be a true wife to him. and forch not the man who has loved you, and will never see your face again. Thisis your father‘s last request, dying in the arms of the man who loves you." , “ Listen to me, Rona,” said Sawyer. “I’m a rough man, but a true one. If on do not care enough for me to be m' I - 0 ~ Wife, go With me as my Sister, and my old mother Will we you a home.” “ 1:137 father swash would be my law," repli . Rona-Simply. “But I love you, and Will go With you to the ends of the earth ” They waited until the earth had cooled sufficiently to allow them to pass over it and then began to make their way to- ward the river. Night came upon them before they reached it, but Rona guided them well, and at midnight the y reached the camp, where they found the Coolies huddled together mourning for the kind master they had lost forever. They were overjoyed as they came into camp, but their joy turned into mourning again when they heard that Abenhua was dead. The next day they were on their Way out of the jungle, which had not been touched by the fire On this side of e nver. As they were in can. they heard a ten-ible clamor on the ro to the fist Cmgalese village, not far away, and ' enjoyed before. soon were met by half-naked men, com— in to ask their aid. The terrible “ ogue” had charged through their fields and killed two men. “Let us do one good deed before we leave these people forever,” suggested Sawyer. “Leave the s are horses with : the coolies, and let us ri e hard.” It was a break—neck gallop of several . miles, the active villagers running with them. At last they came out of the 'ungle, and looked down into the level p ain, in which the village stood. The “Rogue” was still at work, trampling through the fields, dashing down the rude huts, and charging the Kandians whenever they dare approach. His shrill trumpet an- nounced that he was very angry, and as he saw the horsemen he turned suddenly and came down at his best speed, willing and ready to meet them. “ Spread out, boys!” commanded Saw- yer. “It is our last hunt in Ceylon.” ' They separated, and rode in upon the monster from diil'erent points, but all upon the same side. ’lhcn ensued a strange hunt, one which they had never The great beast charged again and again, but the fleet horses eluded him, and at last he stood, no longer able to charge, glaring defiance at them. Then they rode in nearer, dismounted, and fired together. The “ Rogue ” sta ‘ gored, his trunk went down and he fe like a ruined tower, while e Kandians leaped upon the body, thrust it with their 3 and exulted over their dead enemy. T on, amid the blessings of the villa ers, the party rode on toward the port, w ere the h‘lyaway was waiting for them, fitted . i for her voyage. They remained three days in Colombo, and a missionary . on his way to China, made Sawyer and Rona man and wife. Then they sailed for the China seas to seek new adventures before they turned the prow oi the Fly- away toward the far—distant West. And before they a ain sailed into the placid waters of the elaware the fleet schooner ' had dipped her prow in every sea which rolls around the globe, coming home by Ca e Horn. ey had many adventures, and some day it may be my fortune hotel] you what they saw and did, in the v0 age from Ceylon to their home. For t e resent, we bid the Elephant-Hunters good-by. THE END. 32 Octnvo Puget/fig , L \L ‘l Dem-hunter, Hm >50)- Srnut uflln- Great Norlh \\'nm!x. { 5!) Lunle 'I'hn. U11- Muh‘ I’m)‘ vtho, Mi ,\' Ull (‘WIIHM {H The Yuung ' ruil Hunt 2 “um-l" Hill. 1mm Huyhmd 1.1 Manhuod, my (‘01, ;~.-..,.. 61 The ’l‘lgcr "nu-torn; ‘ 1111111) Iinyx in 1:11». 1isslum‘nlnnu. \lmnl 11:11:11. By .Imvph | r. J: 8 Kl: (‘urmnu Kim: nf<11 ‘- 13 NEW! W. Aiken. 62 "11(101' ('urvcr. 1h" ’ , ‘ 1 4 Ger [on Lilli “v 1‘n. ’m 1M lug nhum. , 11. n ' Iilnok Hum: mu, Hm 131111111! \VrH-hur. 11,- Rug” . 0M (Arlzzly‘u Buy Yard. By (ful. S rhurli, mu. »1 You": Illck Tullmt. “3‘ A") \\'. AUwa 6 Dexlulhiat'Tl l‘Hcil, 11111111" v lHy I 1r! \"hm-Xcr. ‘. The Buy Pilot. 151304- 1' ~‘ lnzmlunn. 7 “'11 . .lu- um ’11»! {yr-«’1. . v. _ ,_ .I 1 . , , \ , . H ,“m Pmlm. Bunch. ,h JWNI ,5. “W Ihalitcnfiztcaixl:filrgafilmnmn) I)ka AanL (.115 9 Kevin: loc: Thu 111.11,. - m 11 u “uni -.- lim‘. H. “M: 3 k ' Toxun Charlie, 11w liny Run-,1". By Co]. ingrulmm. .i [he l’l:1in:. 1:)- 10 ’l‘exm .lm-k. 11m 11mm. Mam; By 01.1.11. Ingmhmn. . .- T1 Y, 1 F 11 1- . 1:~ : 1 ' ll Chnrley Kin-lurk. A Inrv 1.1' SIMIIOLIlfl)‘ S: 1:11 cmuul LE};th11th:"? I0 (um. ux 1111 us ) (“I 1...” Conuuu Cuywra. Hy 1\[11I]4)|' 11. 11.141...1.1un1, . . , 1 12 Mnrlponn Murnh. My Jum'ph 1'2. “zulgvr, Jr. The ‘ "um: 1‘ “lluflt- L." 01"""35‘ 31“?“- 13 Rovlnl: Hen. 'Hy Jnlm .I Mumhull. pm” the (um-1m); Hy Mnjnr H. I: “lmldnrd. 1.1 2-1 ring stool, klngnl’llm 1mm. 1:1 J. 1:, l?11d:1>r,Jr. ‘ l 5 “ lde-Awulu- Gem-We. Rufl' Helmurt and "In Ben-r. ’1y(:|lllui11“linxi1! " By wunl “'Hlult. 16 The Boy “’lzm-d. > Hurrvl nuguld. ‘ ‘ . ‘ I? Peter l’eppergrnsx, (In: Utuenhurn {rum Gnlhmn. Hv Ive Elcphnm. 3y (upt. Prmlmck \\ hunk”, Nnuh Nmr. ' .. v __ i . “,m [L ‘1 . W 18 Adrll't on tho Pl‘llh'll‘. nnd Amateur Hunter:- L" {"0 ‘ ("m2 ‘1th I‘lm'u” '} ' mmm’“ m, the Human “mule. m- U“ Comm. :4 l he Buy Lurnl - 1‘ luhcrn. B) R yer SLIU‘buch. 19 Tgc llfirrrlne llllilglt‘l': M, l:{:)\‘\ .11 . Revolver Bmy, 1y ('nl. I‘ruutis< Ingruluun. "w .ny,"r11]n!nn'l‘ mu untrr. Ir , ’o-I. . ‘ V « i . . . , 20 Trapper Tum. Hu- Wu .1 II|1p_ I. I _ “vhwflh '1le (,omlor kllh rn. By T. C. “.uhauLh. 21 Yellnw lluir. the Buy Clilrfflflhn 1'11“ um. Hy Liul. Lud Llouheeln, the Young Tiger Fightcr. Ry Rnger Prentiss 11min1mnl1, ’1 Slnx'bnrk. “2 The 5""“""'“‘ ' B" "C" ' ' Fl tn 1. Fr-d 15vFdwuanYiih-lt Pmul'Oct 10 13.“! ‘”‘“I l.1., '7' 11 on. 1. ,. .\) ._ 23 ""2152???" ' mm' 'L “r ’3 m 1”“ “(1011151110Munlur. Hy(‘nphlin F. “'lxillukcr. 24 anh an“ “Me”- “M7111”. lj‘r do vk murmur. , Kentucky “on, UN Lung 111113 or the (Tnxmuh-s. My 2r. A Rulllmz hl _ Iur! - I - u‘cvr 1m Hunnnd Hugvr 51mm . . 1 P ' 1- . . ( . (“,“1“unfinlzthfk " The klt Cur-non Club. in.(.Ih1r1mu;;lu 2? l’luzu IIIHl I’lu NJ 1111 A ' 111m»: at “ hivkskin Little Buck, the Buy Guide. {1- Hurry Ringgnld. Su111,"(.\hlj.$1 . 11:111.) "L .Inuruhuln. . ‘ . . 1 .. . .1 -. v. 1. ‘ Sword pr . Iw "Himmm Ln.“ m CH]. “my l‘ghPVIQflJIrlli Zulmklws R4111 ofllu Rm .11.». I.) (1.1. M .M“ Mr. 11.1 m ., m. n. ‘ 21) Smu' (- l (a Hnrhuugh. M (‘nphfll ‘ly-hy-nghl. “3' Jam.“ 1:. “mlxvr, Jr. 80 I'l1)ml.depllu - mn-II 1mm (111111771011 By (7. 551'mm‘h. “uphdlm ymnmxgxlqnmn 1;), (L ])_ mm“ m RoflTIHQ‘hI-n p m1 111:. r:..1«~~,.1r. 3“ thlle Dun Rook-4. Hy Mun-is Rudwingn 32 “'hlte Helnfr, lhu 1111111111 .‘!K'Ill chm. By Col. #77 The Menagerie Hunk-r34. By Mnj. H. (:runvilhu Pr 1111M “mm mm. ‘ . , V _ v . . I . _ v ' . 4 ,. ' .‘ V 83 Th; Buy 7ruuuder. By Pam. 17ml, “'hiH‘IIu-r. ks 1'“ “"9 trump!“ "’1‘! L Almm" “m ('I'SM' “3 3} The Chane ol' thti Grout “'hHr Stu . 111M (tum ' ‘ ~ and Canoe. ISV (7. “lumlnL‘ ('lnrk. E V p 8!) ’Longnhore Lljc. By L. I). ' lurk. 85 0:11! T13; '10 um! I"! Buy Chum-t. My 90 Roving 111119, mum's 1,1111.) Scout. Hy '1'. 1‘. Mar. 41:”. arm Mun)“ r 1 ‘ _ . S H a, b q r. I t 3“ "\“ """M’W‘.Wff'fwaj 3”" 0mm“ ""‘L" 91 Oregon Josh, Hm “'Ixuhl 11111:. 1y Huger Slnrburk. k: (Munro. “1' ('1-1. 3 llurrlvnne Kit. 1‘ A. F. Huh. “Hiififi’ilffh’fLE'.” "-‘ 3",, ' 9:: .1 unplug Juke, ,olunhlu cm.” Hay. 15- my"... 40 Hman In. tlm Luul wilh 11 1m .4 Ill-ml. ""“"“‘l: “ 4| The. .‘h'Nler'A No | dl‘VlUll. 9-1 Sum Spo uc, (luv Hrmhlhr‘m Buy. l‘._r 1-211. “Wilma. 4” “1"” For?" ‘9' 3- ‘ . '3! Hm“ 95 Mon-ow in Slhcrln: u", A Yank-cu 11m [n [In- Hem-nu. ' ‘ ( .‘;:‘-}}‘"';,‘”"';"r- My (‘Ixurlua Morris. . 1 1mm . “1' 0.1 hfgrnlmml 96 Fltrllfll'm Fred: 1r. m Vast-“'HB‘“ 11' “HI-111' ('Hmr‘ 4“ luck, the Slowuwsu'. ‘lmrln-s Morris. By I. 4 . “1|r‘v.n|;_-II. 4'? The (‘ohlrrlxlulln llh, : I'r.l.ifunl111n lmligol’lxumtinn, . 9,7 owl“. or “u. Hymn,” 1;). (3 “Hum”: mink. "y 31m.) 1. hug 1M V1.3, r. 45 The I’lnnpu!‘ "I Horn. 12’]. C, Hurhnuch. 98 The “0 \ lglluntcl. By Mnj. H. 1L Slwldunl. th- at ; In'xukn (‘lnn-Ilo. I. 1 .h u-m ; .. , 50 Juk-le. llnrryuud l‘om. [11L-'I'i11‘ovCln1nI]1innIlrnllu-IIL :39 The \. hue Tigerfi. I!y(‘11pl.¢'h1\rl n 11” .1. 153' Curl. 1mm. \\’|vit1Iann I F D (I ' Ilvmh'. 11;. . 61 The Y Ill lnnd- Amber. 3\' .. . ‘nm. ,._ ' , I _ v 1 . H I 52 The “3:, I filed“. m 1;) T. (v. H ".1," ‘ 100 Elm-fine»! 1gnu. 'lrull. l l.mr,.e lLuhbom. 58 "ones! ‘1»: ('uunlrx lsnv A. m in 11... 1M 1 4 cm, 3 Clnr .\1 . - :1 0 Ottawa cm. 1:,- Edmund s, 12111.. 54 (mth "In Joe. the Myflerioul 1-1.:1 sum”, By ('01. 11‘ 1 . . _ » I’r‘nt ‘lngmhunh . _, < ... 7- . . - . A _ 55 rrInLII-F:__l(.l~ “w “much “.1- .‘ I- I "I bun]. “0) s IJhrnr) 11.107 $1111.11) 1111 :N€“R(l‘,fll1ptofs1x cents :111 u. 57 "um. sum”... the Sailor Buy Mngwaxn. 1w 5:. w. A r 1 My ms P I“ h I‘cmre. B "L L AN 3 . 1 ., 111 N era, \ I Adventurmu Life of (In t In ‘uok 1hr 1 ‘ . v- 58 T1231" lfoy. 1;; c111. Preuliulngru , ‘ ’ as 11 [Ilium F-Irccl, ,\cw \ ark.