same spot that we went in."

"Can't see as it's wasted time, sir," growled the man. "I say it's time
saved, for if it hadn't been for my knot we might have gone on round
again."

"Don't talk so much, sir. Give way, my lads. Get back into the lagoon,
and we'll try another of these wretched cuts."

Another was soon found and duly marked by breaking down a few of the
bamboos level with the water, and plaiting them this time in an
unmistakable way, the result at the end of close upon an hour proving to
be just the same.

"Never mind," said the middy, speaking through his set teeth. "It's
horribly disappointing, Tom, but these blind water alleys haven't been
made for nothing. They prove to me that there must be a special one
which we have to hit, and when we do we shall find that it leads to some
hiding-place--perhaps to where the planter has gone, and we must trace
him."

"I don't see what good it will do, sir, if we do," said the big sailor,
puckering up his brows.

"We must find him, Tom, and take him aboard as a regular prisoner this
time, for he has been deceiving the captain, and all that he has said
can't be true. Give way, my lads."

After further search which led to their passing another opening twice
over, a spot was found where the growth seemed to be very thick; but it
proved to be yielding enough at last, for the boat's prow glided through
with a rush, and they passed into another tiny lagoon, where as the
large reeds closed in behind them, Tom May slapped his knee loudly.

"I do call it artful, sir," he cried. "Why, who's going to show me
which is the way out again? I've got my eye fixed on it, but if I shut
it up I shouldn't be able to find it again. It's just this," he
continued. "You holds the bamboos down or on one side, and as soon as
you're gone by up they springs again; and that's why they're called
bamboos, I s'pose--because they bamboozle you. Now for another way of
marking this here one."

"Yes, let's have no more mistakes, Tom."

"No, sir," said the man, tightening up his lips as he pulled out his
jack knife, before picking out of the biggest giant reeds, one of a tuft
which towered up some five-and-twenty feet. Through this he drove his
blade, the thick, rich, succulent grass yielding easily, and after
keeping the wound open by the help of a messmate's knife he cut a slip,
and thrusting it through the reed, he drew out the two knives so that
the wound closed up tightly upon