that moment to have been cut off short, or, to
use a railway phrase, shunted off on to another track--that is, from
fancies about the Tumongong's son to the fishy inhabitants of the river.

For once more he noticed that about twenty feet from the overhanging
bank, formed of twisted roots, on which he stood, one of the largest
beds of floating lotus-leaves was being agitated by what must certainly
be quite a large fish forcing its way toward him, till he could see its
long brown back just beneath the surface, and gliding very slowly
nearer.

It was impossible to make out what it was for the leaves, two or three
of which were pushed up, and sank down again while others were forced
aside.

It was quite fascinating to watch it, and Ned was longing for some fine
tackle, when there was a sudden rustling in the boughs overhead, and a
dark animal that he could not clearly distinguish began leaping and
bounding about, chattering, shrieking, and making other strange noises,
as it shook the boughs and ran out on one over the water, to hang down
by one hand and a foot, chattering and showing its teeth menacingly at
the big fish which was still slowly gliding nearer to the bank.

There was no mistaking what the animal was now, and wondering at its
comparative tameness, Ned's attention was now diverted to what was the
finest and most active monkey he had ever seen.

"I didn't know monkeys liked fishing," he was saying to himself, when
the movement in the water increased, the animal in the tree swung itself
nearer, and there was a rush and splash just as the spectator felt a
violent shock as if some one had seized him from behind, and losing his
balance he fell backward, and then in alarm rolled over twice away from
the river, and struggled up to his knees, just as a figure rushed at him
again and dragged him farther away.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

A HUNGRY CROC.

The next moment Ned stood with clenched fists, about to fly at the
Tumongong's son, as he had mentally dubbed him, but his fists
unclenched, and he began to comprehend that he must have been in some
danger from which he had been driven and dragged by the excited lad, who
now snatched off the little flat military-looking cap he wore, and
showed a crop of curly dark hair--not black, coarse, and straight like a
Malay's--and as he wiped his streaming forehead with the silken sleeve
of his baju, he cried fiercely: "What a jolly fool you must be to go and
stand there."

"Eh