nothing they must supply themselves with everything. And yet, if Cyrus Smith had been with them if the engineer could have brought his practical science, his inventive mind, to bear on their situation, perhaps all hope would not have been lost. Alas! they must hope no longer to see Cyrus Smith again. The castaways could expect nothing except from themselves and from that Providence which never abandons those whose faith is sincere. But ought they to establish themselves on this part of the coast, without trying to know to what continent it belonged, if it was inhabited, or if they were on the shore of a desert island? It was an important question, and should be solved with the shortest possible delay. From its answer they would know what measures to take. However, according to Pencroff's advice, it appeared best to wait a few days before undertaking an exploration. They must, in fact, prepare some provisions, and procure more strengthening food than eggs and mollusks. The explorers, before undertaking new fatigues, must, first of all, recruit their strength. The Chimneys offered a retreat sufficient for the present. The fire was lighted, and it was easy to preserve some embers. There were plenty of shell-fish and eggs among the rocks and on the beach. It would be easy to kill a few of the pigeons which were flying by hundreds at the summit of the plateau, either with sticks or stones. Perhaps the trees of the neighboring forest would supply them with eatable fruit. Lastly, the sweet water was there. It was accordingly settled that for a few days they would remain at the Chimneys so as to prepare themselves for an expedition, either along the shore or into the interior of the country. This plan suited Neb particularly. As obstinate in his ideas as in his presentiments, he was in no haste to abandon this part of the coast, the scene of the catastrophe. He did not, he would not believe in the loss of Cyrus Smith. No! it did not seem to him possible that such a man had ended in this vulgar fashion-carried away by a wave, drowned in the floods, a few hundred feet from a shore. As long as the waves had not cast up the body of the engineer, as long as he, Neb, had not seen with his eyes, touched with his hands the corpse of his master, he would not believe in his death! And this idea rooted itself deeper than ever in his determined heart! An illusion, perhaps; but still an illusion to be respected, and one which the sailor did not wish to destroy. As for him, he hoped no longer; but there was no use in arguing with Neb. He was like the dog who will not leave the place where his master is buried, and his grief was such that, most probably, he would not survive him. This same morning, the 26th of March, at daybreak, Neb had set out on the shore in a northerly direction, and he had returned to the spot where the sea, no doubt, had closed over the unfortunate Smith. That day's breakfast was composed solely of pigeons' eggs and lithodomes. Harbert had found some salt deposited by evaporation in the hollow of the rocks, and this mineral was very welcome. The repast ended, Pencroff asked the reporter if he wished to accompany Harbert and himself to the forest where they were going to try to hunt. But on consideration it was thought necessary that some one should remain at home to keep in the fire, and to be there in the highly improbable event of Neb requiring aid. The reporter accordingly remained behind. 66 To the chase, Harbert," said the sailor. "We shall find ammunition on our way, and cut our weapons in the forest." But at the moment of starting, Harbert observed that, since they had no tinder, it would, perhaps, be prudent to replace it by another substance. "What?" asked Pencroff. "Burnt linen," replied the boy. "That could, in case of need, serve for tinder." The sailor thought it a very sensible advice. Only it had the inconvenience of necessitating the sacrifice of a piece of handkerchief. Notwithstanding, the thing was well worth while trying, and a part of Pencroff's large checked handkerchief was soon reduced to the state of a half-burnt rag. This inflammable material was placed in the central chamber at the bottom of a little cavity in the rock, sheltered from all wind and damp. It was nine o'clock in the morning. The weather was threatening, and the breeze blew from the south-east. Harbert and Pencroff turned the angle of the Chimneys, not without having cast a look at the smoke which, just at that place, curled round a point of rock. They ascended the left bank of the river. Arrived at the forest, Pencroff broke, from the first tree, two stout branches, which he transformed into clubs, the ends of which Harbert rubbed smooth on a rock. Oh! what would they not have given for a knife! The two hunters now advanced into the long grass, following the bank. From the turning which directed its course to the south-west, the river narrowed gradually, and the channel lay between high banks, over which the trees formed double arch. Pencroff, lest they should lose themselves, resolved to follow the course of the stream, which would always lead them back to the point from which they started. But the bank was not without some obstacles; here, the flexible branches of the trees bent level with the current; there, were creepers and thorns which they had to break down with their sticks. Harbert often glided among the broken stumps with the agility of a young cat, and disappeared in the underwood. But Pencroff called him back directly, begging him not to wander away. Meanwhile, the sailor attentively observed the disposition and nature of the surrounding country. On the left bank, the ground, which was flat and marshy, rose imperceptibly towards the interior. It looked there like a network of liquid threads which, doubtless, reached the river by some underground drain. Sometimes a stream ran through the underwood, which they crossed without difficulty. The opposite shore appeared to be more uneven, and the valley through which the river flowed was more clearly visible. The hill, covered with trees disposed in terraces, intercepted the view. On the right bank walking would have been difficult, for the declivities fell suddenly, and the trees bending over the water were only sustained by the strength of their roots. It is needless to add that this forest, as well as the coast already surveyed, was destitute of any sign of human life. Pencroff only saw traces of quadrupeds, fresh footprints of animals, the species of which he could not recognize. In all probability, and such was also Harbert's opinion, some had been left by formidable wild beasts, which, doubtless, would give them. some trouble; but nowhere did they observe the mark of an axe on the trees, nor the ashes of a fire, nor the impression of a human foot. On this they might, probably, congratulate themselves, for on any land in the middle of the Pacific the presence of man was, perhaps, more to be feared than desired. Harbert and Pencroff, speaking little, for the difficulties of the way were great, advanced very slowly, and, after walking for an hour, had scarcely gone more than a mile. As yet, the hunt had not been successful. However, some birds sang and fluttered in the foliage, and appeared very timid, as if man had inspired them with an instinctive fear. Among others, Harbert descried, in a marshy part of the forest, a bird with a long, pointed beak, closely resembling the king-fisher, but its plumage was not fine, though of a metallic brilliancy. "That must be a jacamar," said Harbert, trying to get nearer. "This will be a good opportunity to taste jacamar," replied the sailor, "if that fellow is in a humor to be roasted!" Just then, a stone, cleverly thrown by the boy, struck the creature on the wing, but the blow did not disable it, and the jacamar ran off and disappeared in an in stant. 66 How clumsy I am!" cried Harbert. "No, no, my boy!" replied the sailor. "The blow was well aimed; many a one would have missed it altogether. Come, don't be vexed with yourself. catch it another day!" We shall In proportion as the hunters advanced, the trees, more scattered, became magnificent, but none bore eatable fruit. Pencroff searched in vain for some of those precious palm-trees which are employed in so many ways in domestic life, and which have been found as far as the fortieth parallel in the northern hemisphere, and to the thirty-fifth only in the southern hemisphere. But this forest was only composed of coniferæ, such as deodaras, already recognized by Harbert, the Douglas pine, similar to those which grow on the north-west coast of America, and splendid firs, measuring a hundred and fifty feet in height. At this moment a flock of birds, of a small size and pretty plumage, with long, glancing tails, dispersed themselves among the branches, strewing their feathers, which covered the ground as with fine down. Harbert picked up a few of these feathers, and after examining them said, "These are couroucous." "I should prefer a moor-cock or guineafowl," replied Pencroff; “still, if they are good to eat-" They are good to eat, and indeed their flesh is very delicate," replied Harbert. "Besides, if I don't mistake, it is easy to approach and kill them with a stick." The sailor and the lad, creeping along the grass, arrived at the foot of a tree, whose lower branches were covered with little birds. The couroucous were waiting the passage of insects which served for their nourishment. Their feathery feet could be seen clasping the slender twigs which supported them. The hunters then rose, and using their sticks like scythes, mowed down whole rows of these couroucous, who never thought of flying away, and stupidly allowed themselves to be knocked off. A hundred were already heaped on the ground, before the others made up their minds to fly. "Well," said Pencroff, "here is game. which is quite within the reach of hunters like us. We have only to put out our hands and take it." The sailor strung the couroucous, like larks, on flexible twigs, and they continued their exploration. The stream here made a bend towards the south, but this détour was, probably, not prolonged, for the river must have its source in the mountain, and be supplied by the melting of the snow which covered the sides of the central cone. The particular object of their expedition was, as has been said, to procure the greatest possible quantity of game for the inhabitants of the Chimneys. It must be acknowledged that as yet this object had not been obtained. So the sailor actively pursued his researches. Once, when some animal, which he had not even time to recognize, fled into the long grass, he exclaimed, "If we only had the dog Top!" But Top had disappeared at the same time as his master, and had probably perished with him. are as large as fowls, and whose flesh is better than that of a pullet. But it was difficult, for they would not allow themselves to be approached. After several fruitless attempts, which resulted in nothing but scaring the tétras, the sailor said to the lad: "Decidedly, since we can't kill them on the wing, we must try to take them with a line." "Like a fish?" cried Harbert, much surprised at the proposal. "Like a fish," replied the sailor, quite seriously. Pencroff had found in the grass half a dozen tétras' nests, each having three or four eggs. He took great care not to touch these nests, to which their proprietors would not fail to return. It was around these that he meant to stretch his lines, not snares, but real fishing lines. He took Harbert some distance from the nests and there prepared his singular apparatus with all the care which a disciple of Izaak Walton would have used. Harbert watched the work with great interest, though rather doubting its success. The lines were made of fine creepers, fastened one to the other, of the length of fifteen or twenty feet. Thick, strong thorns, the points bent back, which were supplied from a dwarf acacia bush, were fastened to the ends of the creepers, by way of hooks. Large red worms, which were crawling on the ground, furnished bait. This done, Pencroff, passing into the grass, and concealing himself skillfully, placed the end of the lines, armed with hooks, near the tétras' nests; then he returned, took the other ends, and hid with Harbert behind a large tree. There they both waited patiently; though it must be said, that Harbert did not reckon much on the success of the inventive Pencroff. A whole half-hour passed; then, as the sailor had surmised, several couples of tétras returned to their nests. They walked along, pecking the ground, and not suspecting in any way the presence of the hunters, who, besides, had taken care to place themselves to leeward of the gallinaceæ. Towards three o'clock, new flocks of birds were seen through certain trees, at whose aromatic berries they were pecking, those of the juniper-tree among others. Suddenly a loud trumpet-call resounded. through the forest. This strange and sonorous call was produced by the ruffed grouse, or the "tétra," of the United States. They soon saw several couples, whose plumage was a rich chestnut brown, mot-croff, his eyes staring, his mouth open, his tled with dark brown, and tail of the same color. Harbert recognized the males by the two wing-like appendages raised on the neck. Pencroff determined to get hold of at least one of these gallinacea, which The lad felt at this moment highly interested. He held his breath, and Pen lips advanced, as if about to taste a piece of tétra, scarcely breathed. Meanwhile, the birds walked about among the hooks, without taking any notice of them. Pencroff then gave little tugs, which moved the bait as if the worms had been still alive. The sailor undoubtedly felt much greater anxiety than does the fisherman, for he does not see his prey coming through the water. The jerks attracted the attention of the gallinacea, and they attacked the hooks with their beaks. Three voracious tétras swallowed at the same moment bait and hook. Suddenly, with a smart jerk, Pencroff "struck" his line, and flapping of wings showed that the birds were taken. "Hurrah!" he cried, rushing towards the game, of which he made himself master in an instant. Harbert clapped his hands. It was the first time that he had ever seen birds taken with a line, but the sailor modestly confessed that it was not his first attempt, and that, besides, he could not claim the merit of invention. 66 And at any rate," added he, "situated as we are, we must hope to hit upon many other contrivances." The tétras were fastened by their claws, and Pencroff, delighted at not having to appear before their companions with empty hands, and observing that the day had begun to decline, judged it best to return to their dwelling. The direction was indicated by the river, whose course they had only to follow, and towards six o'clock, tired enough with their excursion, they arrived at the Chimneys. (To be continued.) A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. PART I. order to fire. The gentle summer breeze stirred the grass blades on the upper edge of the trench, and parting them, showed one tall four-leaved clover. With an exclamation of delight, Karl dropped his musket, picked the clover, fastened it in the band of his cap, and lifting up the cap, imprudently waved it to the right and left, calling down the line: "Good luck, boys! The four leaf of clover!" SERGEANT KARL REUTNER had never | Gettysburg, and he was impatient for the found a four-leaved clover. He had often looked for them-at home in Bavaria, in the green meadows at the foot of the stern giant, Watzman; and in America, on the sunny prairies of Illinois. But he had never found one. "It is luck; I shall not have luck before I find the four leaf of clover," he had said, half jesting, many a time, to himself or to gay comrades. And in his secret heart he was not without a shadow of superstition about it. It had again and again happened that some one by his side had stooped and picked a fourleaved clover, upon which he was just on the point of treading, while his eyes were searching eagerly for it. It did seem as if Karl could never see the magic little leaf, and why should this not mean something? Whence came the world wide belief in the spell, if it be merely an idle fancy? But now Karl Reutner was to find his four-leaved clover. There it was, gently waving in the wind, not two feet away from his eyes. Karl was lying low on the ground. He was not looking for fourleaved clover; he was listening with every faculty sharply concentrated, waiting for a sound which seemed to him inexplicably delayed. He was lying in a trench before The next Karl knew, it was nightdark, starless, chilly night. He was alone; a dreadful silence, broken now and then by more dreadful groans, reigned all around. He was naked; he could not move; terrible pains were racking his breast. Something was firmly clutched in his right hand, but he could not lift his arm to see what it was; neither could he unclasp his hand. The battle of Gettysburg was over, and Karl was shot through the lungs. "Good luck, boys! The four leaf of clover!" had been his last words, hardly spoken before the waving cap had proved a mark for a rebel sharp-shooter, and Karl had fallen back apparently dead. No time then for one comrade to help another. In a few moments more his company had gone, leaving behind many of its brave fellows wounded, dying, dead. In the night Karl had been stripped by rebel prowlers, and left for dead. Only his cap remained; that was so firmly clutched in his right hand, they could not take it from him. Withered, drooping above the tarnished gilt wreath on the band, hung the four-leaved clover; but Karl could not see it. He remembered it, however, and as he struggled in his feverish half delirium to recall the last moments before he fell, he muttered to himself: "The four leaf of clover brought this of luck; bad luck to begin." The feeble sounds caught the ear of another party of rebels, searching for their wounded. As the dark lantern flashed its slender ray of light upon Karl's figure, and the rebel officer saw the United States badge on the cap, he turned away. But at Karl's voice and the broken English: "Water! For God's love, one water!" he turned back. The blue eyes and the yellow hair had a spell in them for the darkhaired Southerner. There had been a Gretchen once with whom he had roamed many a moonlight night, in Heidelberg. Her eyes and her hair, and the pretty broken English she had learned from him, were like these. "Pick him up, boys; he'll count for one, damn him!" were the words under which he hid his sudden sympathy from the angry and resentful men who obeyed his orders. But afterward he went many times secretly to the ambulance to see if that yellow-haired German boy were still alive, and were covered by blankets. Of the terrible journey to Libby Prison Karl knew nothing. A few days after it he came again, slowly and painfully, to his consciousness, as he had that first night on the battle-field, like one awakening from a frightful and confused dream. He was on the damp dungeon floor; a pretense of a pallet beneath him. When he tried to speak, a strange, gurgling sound filled his throat. "Better not try to talk," said the surgeon, who happened to be standing near. "Am I dying?" said Karl. "No, not just yet," laughed the brutal surgeon; "but you won't last long. Our boys haven't left you any lungs." the waving clover leaf floated before them. He fell asleep, and dreamed that he was lying in a field filled with four-leaved clovers, and that a beautiful, dark-haired girl was gathering them and bringing them to him by handfuls. When he waked he saw a kind face bending over him, and felt something pressed between his lips. One of his fellow prisoners was trying to feed him with bread soaked in wine. Ah, the heroes of Libby Prison! Almost all those who came out alive from that hell of tortures, did so because other men had freely spent their lives for them. All Karl's fellow prisoners loved him. His fair face, beautiful blue eyes, and golden-brown hair, his broken English, and his pathetic patience, appealed to every heart. Every man saved the soft part of his bread for him; and on this, with occasionally a few drops of wine, he lived that is, he did not die, but he did not gain; the wound did not heal, and each day his strength grew less and less, long after it had seemed that he could not be weaker and live. But hope never forsook him. The four-leaved clover, folded in a bit of paper, was hid in the lining of his cap. Sometimes he took it out, showed it to the prisoners, and told them the story. "It has brought to me such bad luck, you see; but I think it shall bring one luck better; it is a true sign; there is time yet." The men shrugged their shoulders. They thought Karl a little weakened in intellect by his sufferings; but they did. not contradict him. Three months later Karl was again lying on the ground at midnight, alone, helpless. An exchange of prisoners had been arranged, and he, with most of his friends, had been carried to City Point. They arrived there at five in the afternoon. The sun was still high and hot, and Karl being one of the feeblest of the prisoners was laid behind an old hogshead, for shade. Boat load after boat load pushed off from the wharf; but he was not taken. He could not speak except in the faintest whisper; he could not move; there he lay, utterly helpless, hearing all the stir and bustle of the loading of the boats, then the plashing of the oars, then the silence, then the return of the boats, more bustle, more' departures, and then the dreadful silence It was too true. The bullet had gone through both lungs. In one there was a hole into which a man might put his fist..again. Karl shut his eyes and again the vision of He had been laid in such a position |