ure against his lips, he gave a puff that sent the shaft on its
deadly way with such velocity, that even in clear daylight its exit
could only have been detected like a spark from a flint.

In the obscurity that shrouded the gorilla's roost, nothing at all was
seen, and nothing heard; for the sumpit is as silent on its message as
the wing of an owl when beating through the twilight.

True, there was something heard, though it was not the sound of the
arrow.

Only a growl from the great red gorilla, that had felt something sting
him, and on feeling it threw up his paw to scratch the place, no doubt
fancying it to be but the bite of a mosquito or hornet. The piece of
stick broken off by his fingers may have seemed to him rather strange,
but not enough so to arouse him from his dreamy indifference.

Not even when another and another sting of the same unusual kind caused
him to renew his scratching--for by this time he was beginning to
succumb to the narcotic influence that would soon induce the sleep of
death.

It did thus end: for after a time, and almost without a struggle, the
red-haired monster lay stretched upon the platform which had long been
his resting-place, his huge limbs supple and tremulous with the last
throes of life.

And beside him, in the same condition, was soon after seen his wife,
who, of weaker conformation, had more quickly yielded to the soporific
effect of the upas poison, from which, when it has once pervaded the
blood, there is no chance of recovery.

Saloo did not deem the infant mias worthy a single arrow, and after its
parents had been disposed of, he sprang upon the scaffold, followed by
Captain Redwood, who, the moment after, was kneeling by his child, and
with ear closely pressed to her bosom, listened to learn if her heart
was still beating.

_It was_!

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

AN IMPROVISED PALANQUIN.

"She lives! thank God, she lives!"

These were the words that fell upon the ears of Henry and Murtagh, when
Saloo, swimming back to the shore, related to them what had transpired.
And more too. She had recovered from her swoon, a long-protracted
syncope, which had fortunately kept her in a state of unconsciousness
almost from the moment of her capture to that of her rescue.

With the exception of some scratches upon her delicate skin, and a
slight pain caused by the compression to which she had been subjected in
that hideous hug, no harm had befallen her--at least no inju