a butterfly here in this dangerous place, as if you were a
boy out on a Surrey Common?"

"Bother! It isn't a butterfly."

"What is it, then?"

"The grandest Atlas moth I ever saw."

"I don't care, you're not going to make yourself raging hot running
after that. I want you to come and see my find."

Oliver stood looking after the shadowy moth as it went on in and out
among the trunks of the trees till it reached a tunnel-like opening,
full of sunshine. Up this, after pausing for a moment or two, balanced
upon its level outstretched wings, it seemed to float on a current of
air and was gone.

"You've made me miss a glorious prize," said Oliver sadly.

"Not I. You couldn't have caught it, my boy. Come along."

Oliver resigned himself to his fate, but gazed longingly at several
birds dimly seen on high among the leaves, and whose presence would have
passed unnoticed if it had not been for their piping cries or screams.
But he soon after took a boyish mischievous satisfaction in joining
Panton in checking Drew every time he made a point at some botanical
treasure.

"No, no," cried Oliver, "if there is to be no animal, I say no
vegetable."

"Because it's all mineral. There, be patient," said Panton. "We
haven't much farther to go, eh, Smith?"

"No, sir, on'y a little bit now. Either o' you gents think o' bringing
a bit o' candle or a lantern?"

"Candle?" cried Panton in dismay. "No."

"What, didn't yer think o' that rubub and magneshy stuff, sir?"

"The magnesium wire? Yes, I brought that."

"Well, that's something, sir, but we do want candles."

"And we must have some. Here, Smith, you must go back," cried Panton.

"Right, sir, on'y shouldn't I be useful to you when we gets there?"

"Of course, very: but we can't do without a light."

"No, sir, that we can't. How many shall you want?"

"Ask for half-a-dozen," said Panton, "and be as smart as you can."

"Half-a-dozen, sir," said Smith, "that all?"

"Yes, be off!"

"But Billy Wriggs's got more'n that tucked inside his jersey, if they
ain't melted away. Air they, Billy?"

"No," said that gentleman, thrusting his hand inside his blue knitted
garment. "The wicks is all right, and they're gettin' a bit soft, but
there's nothing else amiss."

"Well done, Smith," cried Oliver, who by this time pretty well knew his
man. "You thought we should want some, then?"

"Course I did, sir. We ain't got cat's eyes, and we can't see like them
s