THE CORAL ISLAND

His arms were round a chest of oaken wood,

It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed

An awful weight. After a while he stood

And I stole near to him.— His white eyes gleamed

As he peeped secretly about; he laid

The oaken chest upon the ground, then drew

A great knife from his belt, and stuck the blade

Into the ground and dug. The clay soon flew

In all directions underneath a tree,

And when the hole was deep he put the box

Down there, and threw the clay back cunningly,

Stamping the ground quite flat; then like a fox

He crept among the trees.... I went next day

To dig the treasure up, but I lost my way.