unmistakably his prisoners."

"Well, I don't mind being a prisoner, uncle, if he is going to treat us
like this."

"Good, lad. I'll take a leaf out of your book, and make the best of
things. This is quite new ground for a naturalist, so let's set aside
all worry about where we are, and think only of the wonderful objects
about us."

Ned was already following out that plan, and wishing his uncle would not
worry about other things, for they were riding at a pretty good rate up
the clear sparkling river, and passing scene after scene of tropic
loveliness that excited a constant desire in the boy to go ashore and
roam amongst grand trees of the loveliest tints of green, all different
from anything he had seen before.

Just then Frank came back.

"Got your shooting tackle ready?" he said.

"No, but I was thinking it was time," replied Murray, "and that we might
as well land directly we see a bird or two. I want to get all the
specimens I can."

"Land!" said Frank, with a merry laugh; "land here?"

"Yes; not to go any distance. Just for a ramble, and then return to the
boat."

"But you couldn't, nor yet for miles farther on."

"Why? The country on either bank looks lovely."

"The trees do, but that's all jungle."

"Well, I see that," said Murray, rather impatiently.

"But you don't know what our jungle is, sir. You couldn't get a dozen
yards any way."

"The trees are not so thick as that."

"No, but the undergrowth is, and it's all laced together, and bound with
prickly canes, so that at every step you must have men to go before you
with their parangs to chop and clear the way."

"Is a parang a chopper?"

"They chop with it," replied Frank. "It's the sword thing the men carry
to cut down the wild vines and canes with."

"Do you mean to say we couldn't get through there?" said Ned.

"Yes, of course I do. Like to try? I did when I first came. Why, in
five minutes you'd be horribly scratched, and your clothes torn half off
your back, and you so hot you couldn't bear yourself."

_Cock-a-doodle-do_!

It was a peculiar broken spasmodic crow from some little distance in the
jungle, and Ned turned upon the Resident's son, laughingly: "Why, there
must be a road there to that farm or cottage and back."

There was an answering crow from farther away.

"Is there a village close by?" asked Murray.

"If there was a village, it would be here," said Frank, showing his
white teeth. "This is the high-