"Will you two men leave off talking?" cried Panton, angrily. "I can't
think. Your words buzz in my brains like a swarm of bees. Ah, I have
it now. Where is Mr Lane?"

"Mr Lane, sir?" said Smith, feebly, as he looked round, and then with
his eyes staring and blank, he began to feel in his pockets.

"Yes, yes, man. Where is he?"

"I d'know sir. I aren't seen him. Where's Mr Lane, Billy? You got
him?"

Wriggs chuckled as if he had been asked the most ridiculously comic
question he had ever heard.

"I d'know, matey," he said. "It's o' no use to ask me."

Smith lurched at him with his fists clenched, as if about to strike, but
the intention was stronger than the power, and resulted in the sailor
blundering up against his mate, and both going down together, and then
sitting up and staring at each other in a puzzled way as if they found
it impossible to comprehend their position.

At that moment Drew came staggering toward them out of the mist with his
gun over his shoulder and his head down as he gazed at the ground,
looking as if at any moment he would fall.

"Ah!" cried Panton, excitedly. "I had quite forgotten you, Drew."

"Eh?" said the botanist, stopping short. "Someone call?"

"Yes; I--Panton. Come here."

"He's got it, too, Billy," said Smith. "I say, what's the matter with
all on us? Was it that water we drunk?"

"No, I aren't drunk!" cried Wriggs, suddenly dropping his good-tempered
idiotic manner. "If you says I'm drunk, Tommy Smith, I shall hit yer.
Smell that!"

He placed a big tarry fist close under his messmate's nose, and then, as
if amused thereat, he began to laugh again.

"I never said such a word, Billy," said Smith, taking the big fist,
opening it out again, and clapping his hand into it loudly before
pumping it affectionately up and down. "I said it was the wa--_tlat
tlat tlat_--Oh, I say, matey, I am thirsty."

"Eh?" said Drew, dreamingly, in answer to a question. "Where's Lane?
Yes, where's Lane?"

"Ah!" cried Panton, starting up now, and looking wildly round. "Yes, I
understand, I think. It was the gas--the volcanic gas in that mist.
For heaven's sake rouse yourself, Drew. Lane's in there still, and we
must fetch him out. Here, all of you come and help."

He made for the pale, misty curtain before them, but only tottered a few
steps, and then fell heavily upon his face with a groan.

"He's deal worse than us is," said Smith, who was now beginning to think
mo