“What shall we do?” exclaimed Arthur. “O Harry, do try and save yourself. Never mind me. What can have happened?”
“We have driven ashore,” I answered. “I am nearly certain of it. All we can do till daylight is to cling on to this trunk; or, if you will stay here with Duppo, I will try and make my way to the other side, to ascertain where we are.”
“Oh, do not leave me, Harry,” he said. “I am afraid something may happen to you.”
We sat on for a few minutes. Still the crashing and rending of the boughs and sipos continued. At length I was afraid that we might be swept away by the current, and be prevented from reaching the shore. I therefore told Duppo what I wanted to do. He taking Arthur by one arm, I supported him by the other, and thus holding him up we tried to force our way among the tangled mass. Now we had to hang on by our hands, finding no firm footing for our feet. In vain we tried to force our way onwards. In the darkness I soon saw that it was impossible. A thick wall of sipos impeded our progress. It was not without the greatest difficulty that at length we got back to the trunk we had left. Even that was violently tossed about, and I was even now afraid that we might be thrown off it. Once more we sat down on the only spot which afforded us any safety. Gradually objects became more clear, and then I saw, rising up against the sky, the tall upright stems of trees. They could not be growing on our floating island. I now became aware that the mass on which we sat had swung round. It seemed once more to be moving on. There was no time to be lost. Duppo and I again lifted up Arthur, and made our way towards the end of the trunk. Not till then did I discover that it was in actual contact with the shore. We hurried along. A few feet only intervened between us and the dry land. “Stay, I will go first,” I exclaimed, and made a sign to Duppo to support Arthur. I let myself down. How thankful I was to find my feet on the ground, though the water was up to my middle. “Here, Arthur, get on my back,” I cried out. Duppo helped him, and in another minute I was scrambling up the bank on the dry ground. Duppo let himself down as I had done, and True leaped after us. Scarcely were we on shore when the trunk we had left floated off, and we could see the mass, with several detached portions, gliding down the river. Where we were we could not tell, but daylight coming on would soon reveal that to us. We sat ourselves down on the bank, thankful that we had escaped from the dangers to which we should have been exposed had we remained longer on the floating island.
Chapter Sixteen.
Our Return.
Where we had been cast we could not tell. Daylight was increasing. The clouds had cleared off. We should soon, we hoped, be able to see our way through the forest, and ascertain our position. We all remained silent for some time, True lying down by my side, and placing his head upon my arm. While thus half between sleeping and waking, I heard a rustling sound, and opening my eyes, half expecting to see a snake wriggling through the grass, they fell on a beautiful little lizard making its way down to the water. At that moment a pile of dry leaves, near which it was passing, was violently agitated, and from beneath them sprung a hairy monster, with long legs and a huge pair of forceps, and seized the lizard by the back of its neck, holding it at the same time with its front feet, while the others were firmly planted in the ground to stop its progress. In vain the lizard struggled to free itself. The monster spider held it fast, digging its forceps deeper and deeper into its neck. I was inclined to go to the rescue of the little saurian, but curiosity prevented me, as I wished to see the result of the attack, while I knew that it had already, in all probability, received its death-wound. The struggles of the lizard grew feebler and feebler. Its long tail, which it had kept whisking about, sank to the ground, and the spider began its meal off the yet quivering flesh. I touched Arthur, and pointed out what was taking place. “The horrid monster,” he exclaimed. “I must punish it for killing that pretty little lizard.” Before I could prevent him, he had jumped up and dealt the spider a blow on the head.
On examining it I found that it was a great crab-spider, one of the formidable arachnida, which are said to eat young birds and other small vertebrates, though they generally, like other spiders, live upon insects. This spider—the mygagle avicularia—will attack humming-birds, and, indeed, other small specimens of the feathered tribe. When unable to procure its usual food of ants, it lies concealed under leaves as this one had done, and darts out on any passing prey which it believes it can manage; or if not, it climbs trees and seizes the smaller birds when at roost, or takes the younger ones out of their nests. It does not spin a web, but either burrows in the ground, or seeks a cavity in a rock, or in any hollow suited to its taste.