back. All this time the monkey sat perfectly still, although
its companions were climbing here and there, some swinging backwards and
forwards on the vines, others making all sorts of grimaces at us. At
length, to our surprise, we saw Kallolo take Quacko in his arms, and
quickly return with him into our midst. Quacko looked a little alarmed
at us, but was speedily soothed, and in a few minutes he appeared quite
at home.

"He has been among white men before this," observed Kallolo, showing the
monkey's ears, which had small gold earrings in them. "I thought so
when him first come to look at us. He and I great friends before long."

Thus was the extraordinary way in which Kallolo had apparently
fascinated the monkey accounted for. As the native had predicted, the
creature was soon as much at home with us as if we had been friends all
our lives. Strange as it may seem, under the perilous circumstances in
which we were placed this incident afforded us much amusement and
considerable relief. Our thoughts, however, were soon turned to a more
important subject,--the means of finding support. We agreed that the
monkeys could not live in the trees without food; and what assisted to
sustain them would help to keep us alive, though too probably we should
soon produce a scarcity.

Kallolo overheard us speaking on the subject. "We have plenty to eat,
never fear," he observed.

"I wish you could show us that same," said Tim.

"Why, we catch the other monkeys, and eat them," said Kallolo. "You
take care of Quacko, while I go and look for food."

As Kallolo spoke, he began to ascend the tree, and was soon lost to
sight amid the dense foliage. As we looked up we could not see anywhere
near the summits of the trees. We might, as far as we could judge, be
at the foot of "Jack's beanstalk." Taking Kallolo's hint, Tim tried to
catch one of the other monkeys; but though Quacko remained quietly with
us, they were far too cautious and nimble to allow him to get up with
them, and I feared that in his eagerness he would tumble off into the
foaming waters and be swept away. Uncle Paul at last called to him, and
told him to give up the chase as utterly hopeless. Uncle Paul, however,
advised us to search more carefully, in the hope that we might find
either nuts or fruit of some sort or other, or bird's eggs, or young
birds, which might serve us as food, while he remained to take care of
Marian.

I had not gone far when I he