d and sandbanks,
they flew swiftly towards the sea, so that dawn found them among the mud
flats and the mangrove swamps. Here they found a spot where mangrove
roots and bushes formed an impenetrable screen, behind which they spent
the day, chiefly in sleep, and in absolute security.

When darkness set in they again put forth, and cautiously clearing the
river's mouth, were soon far out on the open sea, which was fortunately
calm at the time, the slight air that blew being in their favour.

"We are safe from pursuit now," said Van der Kemp in a tone of
satisfaction, as they paused for a breathing spell.

"O massa!" exclaimed Moses at that moment, in a voice of consternation;
"we's forgotten Spinkie!"

"So we have!" returned the hermit in a voice of regret so profound that
Nigel could scarce restrain a laugh in spite of his sympathy.

But Spinkie had not forgotten himself. Observing probably, that these
night expeditions were a change in his master's habits, he had kept an
unusually watchful eye on the canoe, so that when it was put in the
water, he had jumped on board unseen in the darkness, and had retired to
the place where he usually slept under hatches when the canoe travelled
at night.

Awakened from refreshing sleep at the sound of his name, Spinkie emerged
suddenly from the stern-manhole, right under the negro's nose, and with
a sleepy "oo, oo!" gazed up into his face.

"Ho! Dare you is, you mis'rible hyperkrite!" exclaimed Moses, kissing
the animal in the depth of his satisfaction. "He's here, massa, all
right. Now, you go to bed agin, you small bundle ob hair."

The creature retired obediently to its place, and laying its little
cheek on one of its small hands, committed itself to repose.

Van der Kemp was wrong when he said they were safe. A pirate scout had
seen the canoe depart. Being alone and distant from the rendezvous of
his commander, some time elapsed before the news could be conveyed to
him. When Baderoon was at length informed and had sailed out to sea in
pursuit, returning daylight showed him that his intended victim had
escaped.

CHAPTER XVII.

TELLS OF THE JOYS, ETC., OF THE PROFESSOR IN THE SUMATRAN FORESTS, ALSO
OF A CATASTROPHE AVERTED.

Fortunately the weather continued fine at first, and the light wind
fair, so that the canoe skimmed swiftly over the wide sea that separates
Borneo from Sumatra. Sometimes our travellers proceeded at night when
the distance between islets