ways of Dyaks and Chinese pirates would venture to live here alone, if
he could help it, and if he really were alone." The thing was a
mystery, would probably remain a mystery for ever.

"Be it steel or be it lead,
Anyhow the man is dead."

There was relief in hearing his own voice. He could hum, and think, and
act. Arming himself with the axe he attacked the bushes and branches of
trees in front of the cave. He cut a fresh approach to the well, and
threw the litter over the skeleton. At first he was inclined to bury it
where it lay, but he disliked the idea of Iris walking unconsciously
over the place. No time could be wasted that day. He would seize an
early opportunity to act as grave-digger.

After an absence of little more than an hour he rejoined the girl. She
saw him from afar, and wondered whence he obtained the axe he
shouldered.

"You are a successful explorer," she cried when he drew near.

"Yes, Miss Deane. I have found water, implements, a shelter, even
light."

"What sort of light--spiritual, or material?"

"Oil."

"Oh!"