trees off close to the ground.  In others it seemed to swoop down from above, lick up a patch of trees bodily and carry them clean away, leaving the surrounding trees untouched.  Sometimes it would select a tree of thirty years growth, seize it, spin it round, and leave it a permanent spiral screw.  I was in these regions about the time, and had the account from a native who had gone through it all and couldn’t speak of it except with glaring eyeballs and gasping breath.

“About midnight of the 28th the gale was at its worst.  Darkness that could be felt between the flashes of lightning.  Thunder that was nearly drowned by the roaring of the wind an’ the crashing of everything all round.  To save their lives the people had to fling themselves into ditches and hollows of the ground.  Mr. Ross and some of his people were lying in the shelter of a wall near his house.  There had been a schooner lying not far off.  When Mr. Ross raised his head cautiously above the wall to have a look to wind’ard he saw the schooner comin’ straight for him on the top of a big wave.  ‘Hold on!’ he shouted, fell flat down, and laid hold o’ the nearest bush.  Next moment the wave burst right over the wall, roared on up to the garden, 150 yards above highwater mark, and swept his house clean away!  By good fortune the wall stood the shock, and the schooner stuck fast just before reachin’ it, but so near that the end of the jib-boom passed right over the place where the household lay holdin’ on for dear life and half drowned.  It was a tremendous night,” concluded the captain, “an’ nearly everything on the islands was wrecked, but they’ve survived it, as you’ll see.  Though it’s seven years since that cyclone swep’ over them, they’re all right and goin’ ahead again, full swing, as if nothin’ had happened.”

“And is Ross III. still king?” asked Nigel with much interest.

“Ay—­at least he was king a few years ago when I passed this way and had occasion to land to replace a tops’l yard that had been carried away.”

“Then you won’t arrive as a stranger?”

“I should think not,” returned the captain, getting up and gazing steadily at the atoll or group of islets enclosed within a coral ring which they were gradually approaching.

Night had descended, however, and the gale had decreased almost to a calm, ere they steered through the narrow channel—­or what we may call a broken part of the ring—­which led to the calm lagoon inside.  Nigel Roy leaned over the bow, watching with profound attention the numerous phosphorescent fish and eel-like creatures which darted hither and thither like streaks of silver from beneath their advancing keel.  He had enough of the naturalist in him to arouse in his mind keen interest in the habits and action of the animal life around him, and these denizens of the coral-groves were as new to him as their appearance was unexpected.

“You’ll find ’em very kind and hospitable, lad,” said the captain to his son.