burning lava.

At sight of the poor monkey, thus thrown into confusion, Selkirk, for
the first time since his residence in the island, laughs so loudly,
that the echo follows the fugitive to the grotto, where she had taken
refuge, and is prolonged from the grotto to the _Oasis_, from the
Oasis to the summit of the _Discovery_.

The exile has at last laughed, laughed aloud, and, at the same moment,
a terrible disaster is taking place without his knowledge; a new war
is preparing for him, in which his arms will be useless.

CHAPTER VIII.

A New Invasion.--Selkirk joyfully meets an ancient Enemy.--Combat on
a Red Cedar.--A Mother and her Little Ones.--The Flock.--Fete in the
Island; Pacific Combats, Diversions and Swings.--A Sail.--The Burning
Wood.--Presentiments of Marimonda.

The next morning the sun has scarcely touched the horizon, Selkirk is
still asleep, when he is awakened by a sort of tickling at his feet.
Thinking it some caress or trick of Marimonda, risen earlier than
usual, he half opens his eyes, sees nothing, and places himself again
in a posture to continue his nap. The same tickling is renewed, but
with more perseverance, and very soon something sharp and keen
penetrates to the quick the hard envelope of his heel. The tickling
has become a bite.

This time wide awake, he raises his head. His cabin is full of rats!

Near him, a company of them are tranquilly engaged in breakfasting on
his coverings and the rushes of his couch; they are on his table, his
seats, along his pillow and his walls; they are playing before his
door, running hither and thither through the crevices of his roof,
multiplying themselves on his rack and shelf; all biting, gnawing,
nibbling--some his seal-skin hat, his tobacco-pouch, the bark
ornaments of his furniture; others the handles of his tools, his
pipes, his Bible, and even his powder-horn.

Selkirk utters a cry, springs from his couch, and immediately crushes
two under his heels. The rest take flight.

As he is pursuing these new invaders with the shovel and musket, he
perceives at a few paces' distance Marimonda, sorrowful and drooping,
perched on the strong branch of a sapota-tree. By her piteous and
chilly appearance, her tangled and wet hair, he doubts not but she has
passed the whole night exposed to the inclemency of the weather. But
he at first attributes this whim only to her ill-humor the evening
before.

On perceiving him, Marimonda descends, from