lie
down and die, wishing you were a monkey or a bird. That's the truth,
gentlemen."

"Then you give up in despair, Naylor?" said Brazier angrily.

"Not I, sir--not the sort o' man. What I say is, we can't do no good by
wasting our strength in looking for Mr Joe. We've got to try and save
our own lives by stopping where we are."

"And what shall we do first?"

"Use our brains, sir, and find something to eat, as I said afore.
There's fruit to find, fish, birds, and monkeys to catch. Snakes ain't
bad eating. There's plenty of water, and--Oh, we're not going to die
yet. Two big men and a small one, and all got knives; so come along,
and let's see what we can do."

Shaddy turned to the fire, taking out his knife and trying the edge.

"First thing I want, Mr Rob, is a bit of hard half-burnt wood--forked
bit, out of which I can make a big fish-hook, a long shank and a short
one. It must be hard and tough, and--Why, hullo! I didn't see these
here before."

"What?" asked Rob and Brazier in a breath, and their companion pointed
down at the earth.

"Fresh footmarks, gen'lemen," said Shaddy.

"Joe's?" cried Rob.

"Nay, my lad; it's a lion's, and he has been prowling round about our
fire in the night."

Rob started, and thought of his realistic dream, but he was faint,
confused in intellect, and could not fit the puzzle together then.

"Well, he hasn't eaten either of us," said Shaddy, with a grim smile,
"and he'd better mind what he's about, or we'll eat him. Ah, here we
are!" he exclaimed, pouncing upon a piece of burning wood. "Now you
take your cap, Mr Rob, and hunt all round for any fruit you can find.
Don't be wasteful and pick any that ain't ripe. Leave that for another
day. We shall want it. And don't go in the forest. There's more to be
found at the edge than inside, because you can't get to the tops of the
trees; and don't eat a thing till I've seen it, because there's plenty
poisonous as can be."

"All right!" said Rob, and he turned to go.

"And cheer up, both of you," said their companion. "We won't starve
while there's traps to be made, and bows and arrows, and fishing tackle.
Now, Mr Brazier, please, you'll sit down on that dead tree, take off
that silk handkercher from your neck, and pull out threads from it one
by one, tie 'em together, and wind 'em up round a bit of stick. Soon as
I've made this big rough wooden hook, I'll lay the silk up into a line."

"But you've no bait," sa