Mentally picturing forth the signs on the leathery piece of parchment, he busied himself for above an hour for a clew as to what they could mean. They suggested nothing to his mind that made the slightest sense. He tried to recall the characters on the "explanatory" sheet. But this was a hopeless task. Aware of the value of deduction, he began on a reasoning line. Anything to occupy his thoughts and time till the hour when the tiger might have fed, and would come for his evening drink, was highly welcome. He began by a natural presumption that both the documents, found together in the tube, and so carefully concealed, related to this particular island. Did they not, then of what possible value would be their final decipherment and solution? Granting this premise, then what should follow next? Certainly some mention of the island--with its name--in the written message, at least. There would naturally be, in these circumstances, some word in the cipher spelling "Island"--but what would the place be called? Such places, he knew, were frequently named quite unofficially, by wandering sailors, adventurers, and drifters on the sea. Attempting to level his state of mind to that of such human beings, he wondered what he, if left to himself, would christen this bit of rock and jungle. So often, he reflected, a place was named for its appearance. This one, for instance, might aptly be called "Three Rocks," "Three Walls," or "Three Towers." He remembered, finally, the abominable sounds produced by the tides twice daily--sounds he had thought might have frightened the natives away. The cognomen, "Haunted Island," might not seem wholly inappropriate to a superstitious mind. The more he reflected, the more certain he felt that some one of the names suggested to his mind might also have occurred to those of others. Considerably aroused in his centers of curiosity, and convinced that even by the dull cherry glow of his firebrand he might be enabled to confirm or confute his theory, he moved sufficiently to draw from his pocket the closely folded documents, and held them up to his torch. The one with the inexplicable signs he promptly returned as of no immediate avail. At that instant his attention was arrested, by a sound below him on the earth. Something, he thought, was lapping at the water! He leaned far forward, tense and rigid on the limb, shielding his spark in one of his hands, while he peered about the pool. There was nothing he could possibly discern--no form of a head projected out to obliterate his stars. Yet the sounds at the edge of the silent basin rose distinctly to his ears. All but ready to bend to the end of his fuse, and touch his fire upon it, he paused, looked closer, saw ripples move to disturb his mirrored planets--and then beheld some form darkly limned on the waters.