CHAPTER VII.
AN ENEMY IN THE CAMP.
The three tired boys went to sleep easily enough, and the snoring inside their hut gave fair promise of a late waking the next day. But before long Jack became restless in his sleep, and began to toss about a good deal. Charley seemed to catch his restlessness, and presently he sat up in the bunk and began to slap himself. This thoroughly aroused him, and as Jack and Ned were tossing about uneasily he had no scruple in speaking to them.
"I say, fellows, we're attacked."
"What's the matter?" muttered Ned, at the same time beginning to rub himself vigorously, first on one part of the body, then on another.
"Mosquitoes," said Jack, violently rubbing his scalp.
"Worse than mosquitoes," said Charley; "they feel more like yellow jackets or hornets, I should say; and they're inside our clothes too."
"Whew!" exclaimed Ned, leaping out of the bunk, "I didn't think of that."
"What is it?" asked both the other boys in a breath.