a gleam of
interest, and passed it over as if it were a group of ant-hills.

Hunger, however, soon claimed attention. After remaining motionless for
more than an hour, he arose and plucked some fruit from a neighbouring
tree.

"God is good--has always been good to me and mine," he murmured, as he
placed the fruit on the grass and sat down beside it.

Then, clasping his hands and closing his eyes, he asked a blessing on
his food in the same words and tone which he had been wont to use when
at home.

After his hunger was appeased, he again wandered about apparently
without aim; but as night began to descend, he sought and found a
slightly hollowed part of a cliff with an overhanging ledge.

It was scarcely deep enough to be styled a cave, but appeared to be a
sufficient shelter in the maniac's eyes, for he busied himself in
gathering ferns and dried grass, until he had made himself a comfortable
couch at the inner end of it.

Before lying down he knelt, clasped his hands, and poured out his soul
in fervent prayer.

His words were now no longer incoherent and the burthen of his petition
was--a blessing on the dear ones at home, and forgiveness of all his
sins through Jesus Christ. It seemed evident judging by his words, that
he had forgotten the recent past, and imagined that Orlando was still
alive.

Then he lay down and fell asleep.

Thus days and weeks and months rolled on, and still the madman wandered
aimlessly among the mountain peaks.

The savages at the other end of the island never molested him, for,
having no occasion to clamber up these rocky heights, they did not
become aware of his existence until a considerable time had elapsed.

His discovery at last was the result of a crime.

One of the savages committed a theft in the native village, and fled for
refuge to the mountains. Wapoota, being a funny fellow, was a favourite
with his chief Ongoloo, and occupied a position somewhat analogous to
the court jester of old. Moreover, he was often consulted in serious
matters by his chief--in short, was a sort of humorous prime minister.

But he could not resist the tendency to steal, and one day pilfered
something or other from Ongoloo, who finally lost patience with him, for
he was an old offender.

Ongoloo, though neither a warlike nor ferocious fellow, vowed to cut out
the heart and liver of Wapoota, and expose them to public gaze.

Disliking publicity after this fashion, the thief fled, purp