Around the World in Ten Days

by Chelsea Curtis Fraser

"We'd better take the guns along," Tom remarked.

"That's so," agreed John; "we might run into some ferocious animal in this wild jungle."

So each armed himself with a rifle and a pail, and John led the way, as he was the only one of the party supplied with a lantern, the others having small flashlights which were none too good for breaking a path in such wilds. They knew the river lay a short distance to the north, but in order to reach its banks from the place where they had landed, they had to cut through a strip of woods bordering it.

It was tedious work getting through. The trees were close together and had to be dodged, and great leaves of plants as large as their bodies seemed to be everywhere, while vines of the toughest fiber frequently shut off their passage and had to be pushed aside or cut with knives. More than once one of the party tripped over unseen obstacles and measured his length in the soft, rank ground-vegetation.

But it was only a little way to the river, and soon they stood upon its grassy bank. It was a pretty stream, not very deep, and seemed quite clear when John held the lantern down to it. They filled their pails, and then, risking all dangers of snakes and crocodiles, disrobed for a plunge.

First one and then the other jumped in. How refreshing the cool waters felt to their hot, sticky bodies! They would have liked to do some diving, but were afraid of sunken logs, and contented themselves by splashing about, swimming a little, and making the woods ring with their laughter and shouts.

Then they came out and put on their clothes. Picking up guns once more, and the pails now filled with water, they started back, John still leading. But they had not gone far when somewhere in advance of them they thought they heard the sound of a breaking limb. So sudden was the sound on the still night air, that all stopped very quickly, their hearts beating fast.

They listened, but the sound was not repeated. They started on again, thinking the limb must have been a dead one and had fallen from some tree of its own weight. But scarcely had they taken a dozen steps when they heard another sharp cracking of wood, this time very close in front of them.

Their intuition told them now that they were near to some night prowler of the animal kingdom, and perhaps one of considerable size, judging from the crash. Hardly realizing what they were doing, they set down their pails, and cocked their rifles, facing, with alertness and uneasiness, the direction whence the sounds had come.

Now they heard some rustling, as of leaves, directly ahead. It came slowly and cautiously closer. Just as it seemed about to burst out upon their view it stopped. There was no more noise. All was silent; not even the note of a night-bird or the gentle chirp of an insect could be heard. For the first time the soughing of the tree-tops in the soft breeze above failed to meet their ears. What a deathly stillness it was!