"They are almost vegetarians," came the answer, "and each man carries sufficient with him to appease a hearty appetite and to slake his thirst. That's the best of their diet. It supplies food and drink at the same moment. And talking of vegetarians reminds me of myself; you remember I was down with fever?"
"And dived overboard when delirious," Jim nodded.
"And swam like a maniac till I reached the jungle. Well, I must have raced through it for a couple of miles or more before I came to a stop. At last I dropped down in the very middle of a camp formed by these natives. I was dead beat, raving with fever, and as weak as a child. By all accounts, too, guess I had hardly a shred of clothing left on me, and my skin was torn by brambles. By good luck, anyway, I had stumbled amongst natives who had met white men before, and had no particular dislike for them. In fact, they have an absurdly high idea of them. They treated me like a brother. They looked upon me from the first as if I were a great chief, and fed me with fruits taken in the forest. And it seems that fever is not unknown amongst them. You see, they don't inhabit the swamp lands, so they do not often come in contact with malaria. Guess they ain't acclimatized to fever the same as other natives who live on the lagoons; in consequence they get attacks whenever they come down to the water, and have learned how to treat their patients. I mended slowly. For weeks I couldn't walk, and had to be carried on a form of stretcher; but I shook off the fever. Life became altogether more pleasant, and though, of course, I was longing to get back to settled parts, so as to rejoin you and Sadie, yet, while I was tied by weakness, I admit that I found life pleasant, and kinder hosts I could not have wished for. At last I was about strong enough to travel, and had already arranged for an escort to take me to Colon when this affair turned up. Gee! It's the strangest thing that ever happened. To think that in place of discovering you in New York, or somewhere in the States, you should have run up against me out in this jungle!"
They chatted for long over their breakfast, Jim learning every detail of his brother's life, while George gathered a good deal of what had happened at Colon. But from Phineas he heard fuller particulars.
"You can't expect the lad to talk about himself," he told George. "It's dead against his modest nature. But he's done fine. He's shown real grit from the beginning, and alongside of it a determination to get on and a common sense that was bound to win advancement. He's earning good wages. Jim is well enough off at this moment to offer you a home, and can support you till you also are earning wages. Mark this too: if we come out of this soundly, and Jim gets back to Colon with those dollars, the Commission will have heaps of praise and thanks to give. Shouldn't wonder if it resulted in further advancement. I know he's young; but guess that don't matter. America's a go-ahead country. She don't reckon a man to be a Solomon just because he's old and wears hair on his face, no more than she reckons that a youngster without a line on his lip is clear out of sense. She judges a man by what he does, and gives her favours without thought of years and appearance. Well, here's Jim young enough we'll allow; but he's done things. His name's known better than the Police Major's from end to end of the canal works. He's come out trumps on every occasion, and if he wins home now I say it'll be a triumph."
Let the reader imagine George's amazement at all he heard, for he had always looked upon Jim as too young for serious consideration. And here he was, a man in effect, though hardly come to that station in point of years; but a man for all that, and already occupying a fine position. It afforded food for thought, and for long George sat sucking the stem of the pipe which Tomkins had generously loaned to him. And all the while bullets flickered from the jungle; they clipped corners from the boulders, smashed heavily against trees on the far side of the clearing, or sent spurts of dust into the sunlit air. It was an occupation, in fact, to watch the result of the enemies' efforts, and to speculate on the effect of the next shot. But it was an occupation also which was apt to become monotonous. Men fell asleep, in spite of the bullets, and only wakened now and again when the thumping of a native drum warned of a possible rush; but though the enemy massed at times, and seemed on the point of charging, they never actually came into the open. They contented themselves with more or less continuous firing.
"Which don't hurt a fly, and only makes a chap hungry," said Tomkins, as he lay on his back in the shelter cast by a boulder. "But guess we shall want to be careful once the darkness comes. If there's a bright moon it'll be right enough; if not, there'll be ructions."
The hours dragged by slowly, and at length evening arrived. Jim looked overhead anxiously, and noted that thick banks of clouds were floating in the sky, while the moon would not rise for two hours.
"It'll be dark in an hour," he said, stretching himself beside Phineas and his brother. "I've been talking to Tomkins, and he agrees with me that the most dangerous time will be before the moon rises, which means that the enemy may attack immediately night comes. Have either of you a suggestion to offer?"
"Just this," answered George. "As soon as it is sufficiently dark we'll send my fellows into the jungle across there. They'll be back within five minutes with as much firewood as we want. Then we'll lay a pile some twenty yards from our position, and so all round this eminence. Once in position we'll set fire to them, and the glow should last till the moon helps us."