CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE DEADLY UPAS.
"Upas!" A word sufficient to explain all that had passed.

Both Captain Redwood and his ship-carpenter understood its signification; for what man is there who has ever sailed through the islands of the India Archipelago without having heard of the upas?
Indeed, who in any part of the world has not either heard or read of this poisonous tree, supposed to carry death to every living thing for a wide distance around it, not even sparing shrubs or plants--things of its own kind--but inflicting blight and destruction wherever its envenomed breath may be wafted on the breeze?
Captain Redwood was a man of too much intelligence, and too well-informed, to have belief in this fabulous tale of the olden time.
Still he knew there was enough truth in it to account for all that had occurred--for the vertigo and vomiting, the horrible nausea and utter prostration of strength that had come upon them unconsciously.

They had made their camp under one of these baneful trees--the true upas (_antiaris toxicaria_); they had kindled a fire beneath it, building it close to the trunk--in fact, against it; the smoke had ascended among its leaves; the heat had caused a sudden exudation of the sap; and the envenomed vapour floating about upon the air had freely found its way both into their mouths and nostrils.

For hours had this empoisoned atmosphere been their only breath, nearly depriving them of that upon which their lives depended.
If still suffering severely from the effects of having inhaled the noxious vapour, they were now no longer wretched.

Their spirits were even restored to a degree of cheerfulness, as is always the case with those who have just escaped from some calamity or danger.