“It is very strange,” he said, “that hitherto we have seen neither reptile nor beast. One would have thought that amid these jungles many forms of life would have found a home; yet perhaps this absence of life is a peculiar feature of this weird world?” “It’s a bit slow,” growled Seymour, “after the forests of the upper world, with their myriads of animals----” The words died on his lips, as, out of the distance, trembled a weird howl. “Wolves!” he cried grimly; “we were mistaken about the absence of life, Mervyn,” and, unslinging his rifle, he examined the magazine. Again that thrilling cry vibrated through the silence, like the wail of a lost soul. Mervyn paused irresolute, glancing anxiously at his comrades. “Need we return?” he asked of Seymour. He was longing to penetrate further into this unknown land, yet his natural discretion suggested a speedy return to the safety of the vessel. “It’s no use turning back now,” Seymour answered, “if the brutes have scented us, they’ll be down upon us before we can reach the boat. So forward, and let each of us keep a sharp look-out for a place where we can stand at bay if necessary.” For the third time that wolfish howl broke upon the ears of the three comrades, then a grim silence fell once more upon the land. CHAPTER VII. A REMARKABLE DISCOVERY AND ITS SEQUEL. BUT the mood of the adventurers had changed. No longer did this underworld appear to them as the paradise of beauty they had first thought it. Its very silence seemed full of menace, and Mervyn found himself repeatedly listening to imaginary rustlings among the fungi. Garth’s interest flagged, too, as time went on, and he longed to retrace his steps, yet, while his comrades held on, he could not for shame suggest return. The boy--for he was little more--was brave enough, but these ghostly jungles were so weird, so unnatural, in their stillness, that it was scarcely to be wondered at that he felt nervous. And, added to this, was the knowledge that somewhere in these wilds lurked wolves or, at least, some beast with the voice of a wolf. Yet no sign did Garth show of his growing uneasiness, save that his hand tightened on the butt of the revolver in his pocket. Seymour alone--his sporting instincts fully aroused--was in his element; indeed, it is not too much to say that he was longing for an encounter with some beast; his finger itched to press the trigger; yet, although he looked around keenly, he could discover nothing on which to test his aim. Mervyn moved a few paces in advance, for the discovery of a fresh fungus of rather peculiar growth had rekindled his scientific zeal, and, despite Seymour’s repeated warnings as to the danger of such a course, he plunged fearlessly in among the fungi in search of fresh treasures, often being lost to the sight of his friends for some moments, then reappearing with a choice specimen for their inspection.