startled it. He's very suspicious of me, and I
don't suppose we shall ever be good friends."

"No, it was not that," whispered Rob, whose voice trembled as if he were
alarmed.

"Then it was some beast in the forest. There they are, any number of
them. Frog perhaps, or an owl: they make very queer sounds."

Rob shook his head.

"I say, don't look so scared, my lad, just as if you were going to be
ill. I tell you what it was: one of those howling spider monkeys at a
distance."

"There again!" cried Rob, starting up,--an example followed by the
guide, who was impressed by the peculiar faint cry; and as Rob seized
his companion's arm, the latter said, with a slight suggestion of
nervousness in his tone:

"Now, what beast could that be? But there, one never gets used to all
the cries in the forest. Here, what's the matter? Where are you going,
my lad?"

"To see--to see," gasped Rob.

"Not alone, Mr Rob, sir. I don't think it is, but it may be some
dangerous creature, and I don't want you to come to trouble. Got enough
without. Hah! there it goes again."

For there was the same peculiar smothered cry, apparently from the edge
of the forest, close to where they had raised their hut.

"Come along quickly," whispered Rob, in a faint, panting voice.

"Yes, but steady, my lad. Let's try and see, our way. We don't want to
be taken by surprise. Get ready an arrow, and I may as well have my
knife."

"No: come on; don't you know what it was? It was close here somewhere.
Can't you tell?"

"No, my lad, nor you neither. I've been a little longer in the woods
than you."

"How can you be so dull?" cried Rob. "Now, quick: it must have been
somewhere here. I heard `Help' as plainly as could be."

"What?"

Just then the cry arose again, not fifty yards away; and unmistakably
that word was uttered in a faint, piteous tone:

"Help!"--and again, "Help!"

The pair sprang forward together, crashing recklessly among the branches
in the direction of the sound; but as they reached the place from whence
it seemed to have come all was still, and there was no response to their
cries.

"All a mistake, my lad," said Shaddy. "We're done up, and fancied it."

"Fancied? No, it was Mr Brazier," cried Rob excitedly. "I'm sure of
it; and--Yes, yes, quick; this way. Here he lies!"

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

FRIEND AND PATIENT.

They had sought in vain for the lost man; and when in utter despair they
had been