"The candle will be useful, anyhow," Bertie said. "It is almost pitch-dark now. What with the sun going down and the clouds overhead, it has turned from day into night in the past five minutes."
Striking a match he lit the candle, and stuck it in between his shoes, which he took off for the purpose.
"That is more cheerful, Harry."
"Hullo! what is that?"
A deep sound, which was certainly not thunder, rose from the woods. It was answered again and again from different directions.
"They must be either pumas or jaguars, which are always called here lions and tigers, and I have no doubt Dias will know by the roar which it is. I should not mind if it were daylight, for it is not pleasant to know that there are at least half a dozen of these beasts in the neighbourhood. We may as well drop the cartridges into our rifles and pistols. I believe neither of these beasts often attacks men, but they might certainly attack our mules."
The storm continued, and each clap of thunder was succeeded by roars, snarls, and hissing, and with strange cries and shrieks. During a momentary lull Harry shouted:
"Is there any fear of these beasts attacking us or the mules, Dias?"
"No, señor, they are too frightened by the thunder and lightning to think of doing so."
"What are all those cries we hear?"