She took the proffered weapon, however, and after putting some distinguishing marks on my tree with it, she hurled it some distance away from me.

She then stooped and propped me against the trunk of the tree; and then leaving my poor suffering dog to keep me company, she set out on her lonely search with long, loping strides of amazing vigour.
It was late in the afternoon when she took her departure; and I lay there hour after hour, sometimes frantically delirious, and at others in a state of semi-consciousness, fancying she was by my side with shells brimming over with delicious water.

I would rouse myself with a start from time to time, but, alas! my Yamba was not near me.

During the long and deathly stillness of the night, the dew came down heavily, and as it enveloped my bed, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was awakened some hours later by the same clear and ringing voice that had addressed me on that still night on my island sand-spit.

Out upon the impressive stillness of the air rang the earnest words: "_Coupe l'arbre_! _Coupe l'arbre_!" I was quite conscious, and much refreshed by my sleep, but the message puzzled me a great deal.