a flint and steel, to enable him to make a fire; and a stout bow with a quiver full of arrows.  It was so dark that it was with difficulty he found these things.  But as he was on the point of leaving he observed a white object in a corner.  This turned out to be a light hammock, which he seized eagerly, and, rolling it up into a small bundle, placed it in the sack.  He also sought for, and fortunately found, an old straw-hat, which he put on.

Martin had now obtained all that he required, and was about to quit the hut when he became suddenly rooted to the spot with horror on observing the dark countenance of an Indian gazing at him with distended eyeballs over the edge of a hammock.  His eyes, unaccustomed to the darkness of the room, had not at first observed that an Indian was sleeping there.  He now felt that he was lost.  The savage evidently knew him.  Dreadful thoughts flashed through his brain.  He thought of the knife in his belt, and how easily he could despatch the Indian in a moment as he lay; but then the idea of imbruing his hands in human blood seemed so awful that he could not bring himself to do it.

As he looked steadily at the savage he observed that his gaze was one of intense horror, and it suddenly occurred to him that the Indian supposed he was a ghost!  Acting upon this supposition, Martin advanced his face slowly towards that of the Indian, put on a dark frown, and stood for a few seconds without uttering a word.  The savage shrank back and shuddered from head to foot.  Then, with a noiseless step, Martin retreated slowly backward towards the door and passed out like a spectre—­never for a moment taking his eyes off those of the savage until he was lost in darkness.  On gaining the forest he fled with a beating heart to his former retreat; but his fears were groundless, for the Indian firmly believed that Martin’s spirit had visited his hut and carried away provisions for his journey to the land of spirits.

Without waiting to rest, Martin no sooner reached the scene of his adventurous leap than he fastened his bag firmly on his shoulders and struck across the valley in the direction of the blue mountains that hemmed it in.  Four or five hours’ hard walking brought him to their base, and long before the rising sun shone down upon his recent home he was over the hills and far away, trudging onward with a weary foot, but with a light heart, in what he believed to be the direction of the east coast of Brazil.  He did not dare to rest until the rugged peaks of the mountain range were between him and the savages; but, when he had left these far behind him, he halted about mid-day to breakfast and repose by the margin of a delightfully cool mountain stream.