CHAPTER XIX

THE FIRST CAPTURE

ATHERTON'S first impulse was to regain his feet and jump overboard. By so doing he knew that he would run no personal risks, since Bill and his companion in crime could not possibly capture him, even if they went to the length of leaping into the sea dressed as they were, in their clothes and sea-boots. But, on the other hand, the Scout realised that, if discovered, the confederates of the rascally butler would make haste and clear off in the yacht, and the whole chance of capturing both the rogues and their booty would receive a serious set back.

With these thoughts flashing through his mind, Atherton pulled several folds of the staysail over his recumbent form, as, fortunately for him, the slothful crew had lowered the sail and had neglected to stow or even secure it. His chief anxiety was that Phillips, finding that his companion had not followed him, would climb on board again, or, equally as bad, raise a premature alarm.

Second Phillips was made of the right stuff. Since Atherton had not called for aid he felt convinced that his Leader was still keeping Bill under observation. Holding on to the bob-stay, and keeping close to the bows of the yacht, Phillips waited, chin deep in water, either till the expected shout for assistance came or else till Atherton got clear of the mysterious craft.

With many muttered curses the truculent Bill ascended the short companion-ladder and gained the deck. Pulling back the hatch he remained by the companion, his gaze directed towards the frowning cliffs by the Tea Caves.

"Two more cursed hours!" muttered the man, loudly enough for the Scout to overhear.

"Wot's 'e got to be afraid of I should like to know. Well, any'ow, to-night'll see the last o' the swag safe aboard."

Atherton felt a quiver of excitement pass through his frame. If the silver were to be recovered the opportunity was at hand. There was little time to be lost. To send for the assistance of the local police and the coastguards might result in the scoundrels "getting the wind of it."

It must be the Scouts to whom the credit of recovering Sir Silas Gwinnear's plate must fall.

The seaman was coming for'ard. From his place of concealment, Atherton could hear his heavy footfall upon the yielding deck. Would it be possible that the fellow had any suspicions that some one in addition to his mate was on board?

In any case the Scout realised that he must evade capture. Nearer and nearer came the man. Atherton prepared to spring from his hiding-place arid leap into the sea, but to his great relief Bill turned on his heel and retraced his footsteps.

"He's going to pace the deck for the next hour or so, I suppose," thought Atherton. "A nice pickle we are in: Phillips shivering in the water and I doing ditto under a damp sail."

But Atherton was wrong in his surmise. The fellow took two or three turns up and down the deck, gave another glance shorewards and then whispered to his companion to "douse the glim again."

With the utmost satisfaction Atherton heard the seaman push back the hatch. His heavy sea-boots grated on the brass stair-treads; and then, with a vicious bang, the hatch was shut once more.

Rising from his place of concealment, Atherton lowered himself into the water, and the two lads began their shoreward swim; at first in silence, and then, as soon as a safe distance had been covered, they conversed in low tones.

"We're in luck, Atherton."

"Yes, if things turn out all right. I wonder what Mr Buckley will suggest?"

"No doubt he will order the boats to be manned, and we'll have to try our chances with Bill and his pal. It's fortunate we know his gun isn't loaded. Here, Phillips, are we heading the right way? I don't see the place where we climbed down."

"The tide must be setting in by now," replied Phillips. "We're being swept away to the west'ard. I vote we swim straight for shore and then keep close to it until we come to the right spot. The tide won't run so strong inshore."

"You lads have been a long time," remarked Mr Buckley, as the two Scouts, tired with their exertions, scrambled on to the ledge where the Scoutmaster had been anxiously awaiting their reappearance.

"It's all right, sir," exclaimed Atherton; "we've found out something": and as briefly and explicitly as he could the Scout related what had occurred on board the yacht.

"You're quite right, Atherton," said Mr Buckley, when the Leader had finished his report. "Something must be done at once. It is now close on twelve o'clock. You're both dressed? Good. Shin up the rope, Phillips; it will take three of you to haul me up, I am afraid."

As soon as the Scoutmaster and the two Scouts had reached the summit of the cliff, a hasty palaver was held and a rough plan of action decided upon. Green was despatched to the camp to turn out the "Wolves," who were to double to the place where the Scoutmaster awaited them.

"That's good, Simpson," said Mr Buckley, as the patrol turned up in fine fettle. "You left the Tenderfoots in camp? Hayes and Coventry, take that flashing lamp and call up the coastguard at Refuge Point. Tell them that there's a yacht lying off the Tea Caves, and that her crew are going to remove the stolen silver. The rest of us had better make tracks for the Tea Caves as soon as possible. Since Tassh is concealed in the inner one--that is what you heard, I believe, Atherton?--we ought to nab him as he squeezes through the narrow passage between the two divisions. Now, Scouts, silence is essential as soon as we gain the ledge."

One by one the "Wolves" descended by means of the rope; then the Scoutmaster was lowered by the "Otters," who brought up the rear of the expedition. Treading cautiously, the Scouts crept in single file towards the rascally butler's lair.

Within the caves all was quiet. If Tassh lay concealed in the innermost one he gave no sign of his presence. Apparently he had learnt a certain amount of caution, for all tracks between the mouth of the cave and the narrow "needle's-eye" communicating with the two divisions were carefully obliterated.

Without a word being spoken the Scouts took up their allotted positions: Simpson and the 1st and 2nd class Scouts of his patrol stationed themselves on either side of the entrance to the inner cave; Atherton and the available "Otters" hid in a deep recess just inside the outer entrance; while Mr Buckley remained without in order to keep the yacht under observation.

Slowly, in utter silence, the hours passed. Although the Scoutmaster could not see the time by his watch, he felt fairly convinced that it could not be much past midnight. To the waiting Scouts the period of waiting seemed interminable.

At length the Scouts pricked up their ears. From the depths of the inner cave came an uncanny sound. As Simpson afterwards described it, it was like the armoured body of an enormous crab grating over the rocks. This was followed by the deep breathing of a man who had been put to great physical strain. Then came the stealthy footfalls of some one walking over the dry sand that formed the floor of the cave.

Simpson and the "Wolves" were tingling with excitement.

It was Tassh.

The rascally butler began to crawl through the "needle's eye." Once or twice he paused, as if scenting danger; then, drawing himself clear, he regained his feet.

It was as much as the "Wolves" could do to restrain themselves from falling upon and overpowering their quarry, since the man stood almost within arm's length of Simpson on the one hand and Neale on the other. But to do this would be acting prematurely. Unless otherwise compelled to tackle their man, the Scouts were content to let him alone until he had lured Bill and his companions ashore. So, crouching behind the huge boulders that had at some time fallen from the roof of the cave, the lads watched Tassh stealthily make his way towards the entrance.

"I wonder if he'll spot Mr Buckley," thought Simpson. But the Scoutmaster was too wary for that. He had clambered upon a narrow ledge seven feet above the main path, whence he could command a view of the cave and the sea as well as the misty starlight would permit.

"Oh, there you are, my fine fellow," muttered Mr Buckley, as Tassh, looking anxiously along the main ledge that gave access to the caves, emerged into the open, utterly ignorant of the fact that seven of the "Otters" were within ten yards of him and that a few inches above his head the Scoutmaster had him under observation.

Still Tassh hesitated. He even walked a few paces along the ledge, and scanned the rugged cliffs above his head. At length, drawing a portable electric lamp from his pocket, he flashed it twice in quick succession in the direction of the yacht.

This signal was instantly replied to by the light of a match. The Scoutmaster could see the gleam light up the features of the man Bill. To guard against causing suspicion the fellow was pretending to light a pipe, twice closing his fingers over the flickering match in order to reassure the ex-butler that his message was understood.

Tassh waited no longer. He turned and literally sneaked back to his den, none of the Scouts attempting to bar his passage.

Another ten minutes passed. There were no further signs of movement on the yacht. The Scoutmaster began to wonder whether 'Tassh's signal was intended to mean that he was suspicious about something, to defer the visit of Bill and his companion in crime until another night.

"I wish they'd hurry up," soliloquised Mr Buckley. "I shouldn't wonder if the coastguard boat doesn't turn up soon and nab them. It's a pity. I wish I had told Hayes not to signal quite so soon. The Scouts will only share the fruits of victory, I am afraid."

Just then came the sound of a splash in the water. The crew of the yacht had dragged a collapsible boat from the cabin and had launched it over the side.

The Scoutmaster waited till the boat was fairly close inshore, then, having made certain that only one man was on board, he silently slipped from his post of observation and rejoined Atherton and the "Otters" in the recess by the mouth of the cave.

Grasping Atherton's hand the Scoutmaster, by means of a series of long and short grips, spelled out a message in Morse.

"Man coming: tackle him on entering cave."

The Leader signified that the message was understood, and passed it on to Phillips, who in turn communicated it to Green and Mayne. Before the remaining "Otters" could be informed, the man from the yacht was heard scaling the cliff between the water's edge and the ledge.

With a strange sensation in his throat, Atherton braced himself for the onslaught. He could hear the partially suppressed breathing of his companions and the rapidly approaching steps of Tassh's nocturnal visitor. The patch of starlit sky at the mouth of the cave was darkened by the hulking figure of Bill.

Unhesitatingly the fellow advanced into the cave, then drawing an electric torch from his pocket he flashed it ahead to guide his footsteps. The beam of light fell, not upon the sanded floor, but upon the figure of the Scoutmaster standing full in his path.

With a muttered oath, Bill threw down the canvas bag, hurled his lamp at Mr Buckley, and turned to seek safety in flight.

Up from their hiding-place the "Otters" ran as one man and threw themselves upon the rogue. Bill's fist shot out straight at Atherton's chin, but luckily for the Scout it was light enough for him to see to parry the blow. Down went Bill, struggling and raving like a madman, with his six youthful yet active assailants on to him like a pack of bulldogs.

"Chuck it," growled Bill sullenly, as Atherton applied an arm-lock. "Chuck it orl you'll break my bloomin' arm. I gives in."

Securely bound hand and foot the prisoner was carried out into the open. The first phase of the capture of the robbers of Sir Silas Gwinnear's silver was effected.

"Now, lads!" exclaimed Mr Buckley, "that's number one. 'Wolves'! Keep watch over the inner cave; we'll rout out Mr Tassh later on. Everest and Baker stand by the prisoner. The rest of the 'Otters' follow me. We must board the yacht and capture the remaining member of the crew."

CHAPTER. XX

A GOOD NIGHT'S WORK

"GIVE me a hand down here, Atherton," exclaimed Mr Buckley. "We can't wait for a rope this time."

Without mishap the Scouts and the Scoutmaster descended the jagged cliff by the same path that the luckless Bill had so lately ascended.

Hauled up on a shelving ledge and practically awash by the rising tide, was the canvas boat. It seemed a flimsy craft to hold five persons, but reassured by Mr Buckley's word the Scouts embarked.

There were but two oars, and these were short; the boat was deeply laden, and progress was, in consequence, slow. Before they were thirty yards from the cliff the Scouts heard the clanking of a windlass. The sole occupant of the yacht, alarmed at the commotion ashore, was weighing anchor.

"He means to start the motor and leave his comrades to their fate," exclaimed Mr Buckley. "Put your backs into it, lads."

Desperately the fellow worked the windlass, but unfortunately for him there was good scope of chain out. Ere half of it was inboard, the canvas boat swept under the yacht's counter and ranged up alongside his starboard quarter.

"Surrender!" shouted the Scoutmaster.

The man's only reply was to drop the handle of the winch, snatch up the gun from the deck and present it full at Mr Buckley's head.

"Won't do, my man," exclaimed the Scoutmaster affably. "We know there isn't a single cartridge on board."

The rascal's jaw dropped with sheer amazement.

"I'll bash in the skull of the first chap who tries to get on deck," he replied, swinging the butt end of the weapon above his head.

"Hands up instantly, or I'll fire!" ordered Mr Buckley, sternly. The pale light glinted on the bright barrel of a sinister-looking object he held extended in his right hand. Somewhat to the Scoutmaster's surprise the fellow immediately complied, holding his arms extended to their fullest extent above his head to show that there was no deception, while the gun clattered noisily upon the deck.

In a trice Atherton and Phillips were once more upon the yacht. Without further resistance the fellow allowed them to secure him.

"Take him below," ordered Mr Buckley. "Phillips and Mayne will look after him all right. Come on, you others, if you want to be in at the capture of Mr Tassh."

Before pushing off, Mr Buckley called to Phillips to come out of the cabin.

"Here's my revolver," he said, in a voice loud enough for the prisoner to overhear. "Put it in your pocket, and don't hesitate to use it if the fellow gives trouble."

And to the surprise and amazement of the Scouts, the Scoutmaster held up for inspection--not a dangerous weapon, but one of the brass rowlocks of the canvas boat.

Phillips rejoined his companion in the task of guarding the prisoner. They heard the sound of the oars growing fainter and fainter till all was quiet.

"Look 'ere, you chaps," said the prisoner, breaking the silence, "I ain't to blame for this 'ere business. 'Swelp me, it was orl Bill's doin'!"

"The less you say about it the better," remarked Phillips.

"No 'tain't. I mean to turn King's evidence, so the sooner I get's it off me chest the better, says I. Bill is that silly lubber Tassh's brother-in-law, that's wot yer don't know, eh? Well, Bill 'ad 'is knife inter old Gwinnear over the shippin' strike. I knows as 'ow Bill 'ad a 'and in chuckin' the old josser inter the Thames: that's gospel truth. An' then 'e cods old Tassh inter sneakin' the silver. Told 'im 'e 'd 'ave 'arf the proceeds, and Bill and me 'ud share the rest, and Tassh like a blinkin' fool believed 'im. 'Tis like this----"

"Yacht ahoy!" came a peremptory hail from without.

Phillips dashed up the companion-ladder, and gained the deck to find a coastguard gig alongside.

"Hulloa, my lad!" exclaimed the petty officer in charge. "What's the game? Having a joke with us, eh? Some of you Scouts signalled to us that some of the thieves were on board with the stolen silver."

"One of them is," replied Phillips. "You're a little too late. He is a prisoner; the other one is also captured. He's on shore, and if you hurry up you may have a look in when our fellows collar Mr Tassh."

* * * *

Upon rejoining the "Wolves" the elated "Otters" found their comrades keeping watch in front of the "needle's-eye." Until their Scoutmaster's return Simpson would not allow his patrol to enter the inner cave. Nevertheless there was now no need for absolute silence, and the lads were able to converse and wile away the otherwise tedious vigil; nor was there any necessity to do without artificial light.

"Now, Simpson," said Mr Buckley, "it's the 'Wolves'' turn. You've plenty of candles?"

"Yes, sir."

"Carry on, then," said the Scoutmaster, dropping into a phrase reminiscent of his former service in the Royal Navy.

The Leader of the "Wolves" was not a fellow to rush headlong into danger. He knew that if Tassh had the courage and determination he could hold the entrance to the inner cave with impunity.

Placing his hat on the end of a staff he thrust it through the narrow opening. Nothing happened.

"The fellow's missed his opportunity," said Simpson to Neale in a low tone. "So here goes."

Wriggling through the "needle's-eye," Simpson gained the spacious vault. He waited, his staff held in readiness to defend himself from attack, until Neale and Jock Fraser joined him.

Bill's electric torch now served a useful purpose, augmented by the light of several candles. The rest of the "Wolves" were quickly on the scene, and in quite a blaze of light the Scouts followed the trail which in his flight the rascally butler had made no attempt to conceal.

"'Hands up instantly or I'll fire!' ordered Mr. Buckley sternly."--_Page_ 237.

The tracks led straight to the place where Atherton had previously found the burnt matches. But in place of the smooth sand there gaped a deep hole, from which the rays of a lantern were visible.

"Come out, Tassh: the game's up," said Simpson. The only reply was a hollow mocking laugh, so eerie that the lads scarce believed it came from a human being. Then came the sound of metal being violently thrown about, to the accompaniment of disjointed and incoherent sentences that told their own tale.

"The fellow's quite mad; he's amusing himself with smashing the silver," exclaimed Fraser. "We must stop him."

Dropping lightly through the hole, the Scout found himself in a small cave, about twenty feet in length and half that distance in breadth. Two candle lanterns--one hanging from a hook driven into the roof and the other standing on the floor--gave sufficient light for Fraser to see clearly what was going on.

Tassh, seated on the ground with his chin resting on his knee, was amusing himself by throwing the valuable silver cups against the farthermost wall, gibbering the while in maniacal delight.

With a bound the Scout stood over the luckless rascal and laid a detaining hand on his shoulder. The man merely smiled and held up a chased goblet as if he wished his captor to join in the game.

"He's as mad as a hatter," said Fraser to Simpson and Neale, who had promptly followed into the thief's lair. "We'll have a job to get him out of this."

"Come on, Tassh," said Simpson, quietly and firmly. "We've something to show you. Come along."

The ex-butler turned his head and looked at the Scout in a dazed manner; then, with a suddenness that almost took Simpson by surprise, the madman jumped to his feet and flung himself tooth and nail upon his captors.

In the struggle the lantern on the floor was overset. The candle in the one hanging from the roof was almost burnt out. In semi-darkness, deep in the farthermost recesses of the cave, the three lads struggled with their prisoner, who seemed to possess the strength of a gorilla.

Twice Simpson was hurled against the wall; Fraser, partly dazed by a tremendous blow on the forehead, was hardly of use to his companions; while Neale, his bare knees bleeding from the result of a series of vicious kicks, was banging grimly and desperately round the madman's waist.

The situation was indeed serious. The Scouts had bitten off more than they could chew, yet not one of them raised a shout for help.

For the third time the Leader of the "Wolves" tackled the madman, but ere he could obtain a hold his feet slipped on the smooth rock. Tassh's fingers closed on Simpson's throat with a force that threatened to choke the Scout into insensibility. Simultaneously, by a back kick, the maniac sent Neale staggering, and well-nigh breathless, upon the prostrate Fraser. A multitude of lights flashed before Simpson's eyes . . . then his opponent's grip suddenly relaxed, and Atherton's voice was heard exclaiming:

"It's all right, Simpson. Pull yourself together, man. I hope I haven't killed the fellow."

Atherton had arrived in the nick of time. Something had prompted him to follow Simpson's scanty patrol; he knew by the sounds from the rogue's lair that a desperate struggle was taking place. He leapt into the little cave and with his staff struck the violent madman a stunning blow, causing Tassh to sink inertly to the ground.

As soon as Simpson and Fraser had sufficiently recovered, steps were taken to get the insensible thief from his den. With a bowline round his waist, Tassh was hauled out of the hole, carried across the inner cave and out into the open air.

"We've found the rest of the silver, sir," announced Simpson.

"That's good business," replied Mr Buckley. "It's time we had a rest. Put those lights out, Green, it must be close on dawn. Why, where is the yacht?"

In the pale grey light, the sea showed an unbroken expanse of rippling water. The yacht with Phillips and Mayne had vanished.

* * * *

"I trust that rascal on board hasn't got the better of Phillips and Mayne," said Mr Buckley.

"So do I, sir," added Atherton. "He must be very smart to get the better of those two fellows."

"Criminals are usually smart," remarked Green.

"Not necessarily," replied the Scoutmaster. "They are frequently only clever in comparison with their dupes. But there is Hayes standing on the cliff."

Hayes and Coventry, having accomplished their task of signalling to the coastguard, had returned to their post of observation, and had dutifully remained there during the whole of the night, since the Scoutmaster had given no further instructions as to what they were to do.

"Seen anything of the yacht?" shouted Atherton.

"Yes," replied Hayes, "the coastguards towed her away."

"Then Phillips and Mayne are all right," said the Scoutmaster, thankfully. "Now, lads, let's get our prisoners to the top of the cliff. The sooner we hand them over to the proper authorities the better."

In very little time the police arrived from Polkerwyck, and Bill and the madman, Tassh, were conveyed to the mainland. The Scouts, after a well-earned meal, were one and all soon sound asleep, never waking till close upon five in the afternoon, when Sir Silas Gwinnear crossed over to Seal Island to personally compliment the Scouts on their success.

"I am afraid, sir," said Mr Buckley, "we have been acting contrary to Headquarter instructions. Particular emphasis is laid upon the fact that no Scouts' night operations should go on after eleven-thirty. I only hope that the exigencies of the case are sufficient excuse for turning day into night."

"All the same, I do not know how to express my gratitude to the Scouts," said Sir Silas. "That raises an awkward topic, Mr Buckley. You know that there is a reward out for the recovery of the silver?"

"Scouts, Sir Silas, do not accept rewards for services rendered: good turns, we call them."

"So I previously learned," said the baronet, smiling at Atherton. "All the same, if there is anything I can do . . . I suppose there is a limit of age for Scouts, Mr Buckley?"

"Once a Scout, always a Scout, sir."

"H'm. Well, perhaps I may be able to have a bit of my own way in the matter of showing my practical gratitude, Mr Buckley. Meanwhile, Scouts, I hope for the rest of your stay in Seal Island you will be able to conform to regular habits and enjoy yourselves far more than you have up to the present."

"We've had a rattling good time, sir," replied the "Wolves" and the "Otters" in a chorus that carried conviction.

"I'm glad to hear it," returned Sir Silas. "And, believe me, you have made me envious of the Scouts of Seal Island."

* * * *

Little more remains to be said. The "Otters" and the "Wolves" prolonged their stay on Seal Island for three whole weeks beyond the fortnight originally intended, the extension being due to the fact that the Scouts had to give evidence at Bodmin Assizes against the rascal known as Bill.

The fellow was proved to be one of the assailants of Sir Silas Gwinnear on Hungerford Bridge; and not only was he found guilty of being concerned in the robbery of the baronet's silver, but an additional charge, that of stealing a yacht from Avonmouth--the one the Scouts captured with a quantity of the booty on board--was proved against him.

His companion got off with six months' hard labour against Bill's seven years' penal servitude. Tassh, hopelessly insane, was taken to the county asylum.

Thus the rogues of this story are accounted for.

Collingwood College runs a larger, and equally efficient, troop than of yore. Mr Trematon, now second master of the school, is still in command; but we will look in vain for Dick Atherton, Phillips, Simpson, Neale and others of the young heroes of Seal Island amongst the crowd of uniformed Scouts.

Atherton is now fourth officer of the Empire Line--a steamship company largely under Sir Silas Gwinnear's control. Fred Simpson is likewise in the merchant service, thanks to the Cornish baronet's patronage. Phillips, Neale and Fraser have accepted good appointments in Canada, in connection with the wealthy firm of Gwinnear Ltd.; while every other original member of the "Otters" and "Wolves'" patrols has to thank Sir Silas for a good start in life.

At all important Headquarter functions, Sir Silas will generally be found. He is never tired of expressing his high appreciation of the movement, and seems to take a delight in relating the circumstances under which his opinion changed, and how he had reason to be proud of certain members of his firm--the former Scouts of Seal Island.

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Volumes Ready BEES, WASPS, AND ANTS. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. COMMON BRITISH BEETLES. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. POND LIFE. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. ROMANCE OF THE ROCKS. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. TREES. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. WILD FLOWERS AND THEIR WONDER- FUL WAYS. By the Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. BRITISH BUTTERFLIES. By A. M. STEWART. COMMON BRITISH MOTHS. By A. M. STEWART. BRITISH LAND MAMMALS. By A. NICOL SIMPSON, F.Z.S. REPTILES AND AMPHIBIANS. By A. NICOL SIMPSON, F.Z.S. BIRD LIFE OF THE SEASONS. By W. PERCIVAL WESTELL, F.L.S. BRITISH FERNS, CLUB MOSSES, AND HORSE-TAILS By DANIEL FERGUSON, M.A. THE NATURALIST AT THE SEASHORE. By RICHARD ELMHIRST, F.L.S. "ZOO" AQUARIUM. By A. E. HODGE., F.L.S.

How to Use the Microscope: A Guide for the Novice. By Rev. CHARLES A. HALL, F.R.M.S. Second edition, containing 16 full-page illustrations from photo-micrographs and many line illustrations in the text. Large crown 8vo., cloth. Price 2s. 6d. net (by post, 2s. 10d.).

Peeps at the Heavens. By JAMES BAIKIE, D.D., F.R.A.S. Containing 16 full-page illustrations (8 in colour). Large crown 8vo., cloth. Price 2s. 6d. net (by post, 2s. 10d.).

Peeps at Nature for Little People Each with 12 full-page illustrations (8 in colour, and 4 in black-and-white). Square crown 8vo. Each 1s. 6d. net (by post, 1s. 9d.).

CREATURES THAT FLY. Written and illustrated by WINIFRED VAIZEY. CREATURES THAT SWIM. Written and illustrated by WINIFRED VAIZEY. CREATURES THAT WALK. Written by JUNE MORTON, illustrated by W. VAIZEY. CREATURES THAT CLIMB. Written by JUNE MORTON, illustrated by W. VAIZEY. CREATURES OF THE NIGHT. Written by JUNE MORTON, illustrated by W. VAIZEY. CREATURES OF THE FROZEN NORTH. Written by JUNE MORTON, illustrated by W. VAIZEY.

_Published by_ A. & C. BLACK, LTD., 4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE. LONDON, W.1

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THE "PEEPS" SERIES

Peeps at Great Men Each with full-page illustrations in colour and in black-and-white. CHARLES DICKENS WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SIR WALTER SCOTT GEORGE WASHINGTON

Peeps at Great Explorers BY SIR GEORGE SCOTT, K.C.I.E., AND G.E. MITTON Each with full-page illustrations in colour and in black-and-white. ALEXANDER THE GREAT VASCO DA GAMA MARCO POLO CAPTAIN COOK COLUMBUS MUNGO PARK DAVID LIVINGSTONE

Peeps at Great Railways Each volume containing 8 full-page illustrations in colour and numerous small black-and-white illustrations in the text.

THE GREAT WESTERN RAILWAY THE LONDON, MIDLAND AND SCOTTISH RAILWAY THE LONDON AND NORTH-EASTERN RAILWAY THE SOUTHERN RAILWAY THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY

Peeps at Industries Each volume containing 16 or 24 full-page illustrations from photographs. COCOA SUGAR VEGETABLE RUBBER TEA OILS

Miscellaneous Volumes Containing full-page illustrations in colour and black-and-white. ARCHITECTURE ROYAL NAVY ARTS AND CRAFTS ROYAL PALACES OF GREAT BRITISH ARMY BRITAIN BRITISH BLUE-JACKET THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS CHILDREN OF LONG AGO THE WORLD'S CHILDREN ENGLISH FOLK DANCES THE WORLD'S DOLLS THE HEAVENS THE UNION JACK AND OTHER HERALDRY PRINCIPAL FLAGS OF THE HISTORICAL SONGS BRITISH EMPIRE

_A series of 60 odd volumes of "Peeps at Many Lands and Cities" is_ _issued, and a complete list will be sent post free on application_ _to the publishers._

_Published by_ A. & C. BLACK, LTD 4, 5 & 6 SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W.1

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Transcriber's Notes:

This book contains a number of misprints. The following misprints have been corrected:

[anything unforeseen occur] -> [anything unforeseen occurs] [the dust-grimmed members] -> [the dust-grimed members] [ordered Mr. Bulkley] -> [ordered Mr. Buckley] (this error occurs twice) [embarassing] -> [embarrassing] [chosing] -> [choosing]

A few cases of punctuation errors were corrected, but are not mentioned here.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Scouts of Seal Island, by Percy F. Westerman