f the bamboo rafters
had been secured, but whether it was Hamet or some other friend he could
not tell.

He had no more time for thinking, for two hands were placed on his
shoulders, and a voice he now recognised whispered: "Down--creep--
follow."

He grasped the idea at once, and went down on hands and knees, to begin
crawling slowly and softly after two bare feet, which he had to touch
from time to time to make sure that he was right, while he felt that
Frank was behind him, and that he too was touching his boots in the same
way.

They were evidently crawling through a tunnel-like track below the
undergrowth, a path probably made by a wild beast--unless it was a
contrivance to escape from the back of the house in case of emergency--
and along this they crawled painfully, with the bushes on either side
and overhead. Now a thorn entered hand or knee, now some kind of
vegetable hook caught in their clothes, and then they had to creep round
some rugged stump of a tree stem to get forward.

The distance was really not great, but it seemed painfully long, and
every moment the fugitives were in expectation of having an alarm
raised, and seeing the lights of the men in pursuit. But at last, just
as Ned had crawled under a bush which scraped and pricked severely, he
heard a rustling noise and a peculiar rippling, and was aware of the
fact that their guide had risen upright, and that he too could stand.

"Ah," sighed Frank, directly after, "what a--"

"Hist!" came in a low whisper. "Stop here--don't move. Quiet;" and it
seemed to Ned that the man lowered himself down till his head was on a
level with his companion's knees, and a faint splashing told him where.

They were at the edge of the river, and their rescuer was slowly wading
against the stream, holding on by the overhanging boughs.

Then the faint splashing ceased, and the boys joined hands, to stand
awe-struck and listening in the thick darkness, and with the knowledge
that the water, gliding swiftly by their feet, swarmed with monstrous
reptiles, which for aught they knew might seize their guide, or be
marking them down for their prey.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DOWN THE STREAM AGAIN.

Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour passed, and neither of
the boys spoke. No sound came from the house, no splashing of the water
told that their guide was on his way back.

All at once a shout reached them, followed by another cry, the noise of
a struggle