its people exterminated, so
that great care was taken to provide the monster with its accustomed
tribute. Prisoners of war, and all strangers found upon the island,
were, in the first place, offered to the snake god, and, failing these,
a victim was chosen among the tribe.

It now appeared, so far as I could gather from Ackbau, who made no
secret of his intentions regarding me, that had it not been, for the
arrival of another stranger upon the island, I myself would have been
offered as a sacrifice to the snake god at his next coming, and it was
for this reason I had been received with apparent friendship. But a
fresh captive being taken soon after I had been washed ashore had
caused a change of plan very much to my advantage. Queen Melannie also
had interested herself in my favour, and had refused to speak words at
the secret council which would have decreed my death. But I might
assure myself, said Ackbau, that my fate was only delayed, and at the
coming of the snake god, next after the one immediately expected, my
death had been decided upon. I appealed to Melannie, but she could only
confirm what Ackbau had told me.

"I cannot save you, Peter," she said, "unless you will become my
husband, when, if you are strong, we may overcome Ackbau, and rule as
king and queen upon this island. But if that cannot be, let us escape
by a means that I know of."

I put aside the question of marriage, but I eagerly embraced the
proposal to escape.

Melannie then led me, secretly, by a path known only to Ackbau, the
council, and herself, to a rock cavern close to the water's edge, in
which was kept a ship's boat, which the queen told me had been washed
ashore at the same time when, she was found crying upon the beach. It
was a well-built, serviceable cutter, with spare oars, and a sail
stowed under the thwarts, just as they had been placed in her when she
had put to sea, but there was neither food nor water in the boat,
although I discovered a water-tank forward, which could readily be
filled from one of the many streams on the island. I became so excited
at the prospect of escape that Melannie looked grave.

"You are glad to go, Peter," she said. "Go, then; take the boat, and
leave me to my fate."

"Not so, Melannie," I answered. "I will take you with me, and restore
you to your own people. It is not meet that a white girl, such as thou,
should abide with savages."

At these words Melannie recovered her gaiety.

"Let me go