ome days, after eating up the last chicken of the flock, our
castaways could get nothing to live upon but durions; and although these
formed a diet sufficiently agreeable to the palate, they were not very
strengthening. Besides, they were not so easily gathered; the few they
had found on some trees, which Saloo had conveniently climbed, being
quickly exhausted. The large durion-tree under which they had first
encamped was well furnished with fruit. But its tall stem, nearly a
hundred feet, without a branch, and with a bark smooth as that of a
sycamore, looked as if no mortal man could ascend it. Captain Redwood
had fired several rounds of his chain-shot up into it, and brought down
many of the grand spinous pericarps; but this cost an expenditure of
ammunition; and, circumstanced as they were, they saw it would never do
to waste it in such whimsical fashion. Still, for want of food, the
fruit must be obtained some way or other, and the question was how to
"pluck" it.

In their dilemma the Malay once more came to their aid. Fortunately for
all, Saloo was a native of Sumatra, and had been brought up among its
forests, much resembling those of Borneo. He was skilled in the
wood-craft common to both islands; and, perhaps, of all the crew of the
castaway ship, not one could have survived whose services would have
been of more value to Captain Redwood and his party than those of the
brown-skinned pilot;--especially since it had been their fate to be cast
upon the shores of Borneo. His companions had already experienced the
benefit to be derived from his knowledge of the country's productions,
and were beginning to consult him in almost every difficulty that
occurred. He appeared capable of accomplishing almost anything.

For all this, they were no little surprised and somewhat incredulous
when he declared his intention of climbing the great durion-tree.
Murtagh was very much inclined to deny that he could do it.

"The nigger's makin' game of us, captin," he said. "It would be as much
as a squirrel could do to speel up that tall trunk. Why, it's as smooth
as the side of a copper-bottomed ship, an' nothin' to lay howlt on.
He's jokin'."

"No jokee, Mista Multa. Saloo that tlee climb soon. You help you see."

"Oh, be aisy now! I'll help you all I can, if that'll do any good. How
do you mane to set about it?"

To this Saloo made no verbal rejoinder, but laying hold of a small axe,
that had been brought away i