"Yes, miss; they are a sort of monkeys—blue monkeys—and carry sticks same as the real African ourangoutangs do. And can't they use them too!"
"Are they very ugly?"
"Awful, and venomous too; and at night they have one eye that shines in the dark like a wild cat's, and you've got to stand clear when that eye's on you."
"Well," said Etheldene, "I wouldn't like to be lost in a place like that. I'd rather be bushed where I am. But I think, Mr. Brown, you are laughing at me. Are there any snakes in Whitechapel?"
"No, thank goodness; no, miss. I can't stand snakes much."
"There was a pretty tiger crept past you just as I was talking though," she said with great coolness.
Harry jumped and shook himself. Etheldene laughed.
"It is far enough away by this time," she remarked. "I saw something ripple past you, Harry, like a whip-thong. I thought my eyes had made it."
"You brought it along with the wood perhaps," said Craig quietly.
"'Pon my word," cried Harry, "you're a lot of Job's comforters, all of you. D'ye know I won't sleep one blessed wink to-night. I'll fancy every moment there is a snake in my blanket or under the saddle."