"I was—terribly," replied Harry uneasily; "but I don't feel so now. I don't like to be laughed at."
"It will not hurt you, my boy. As to breakfast, you will have to wait an hour or so, till we turn out of the main stream. Then we must land at the first opening, and have a fire made ashore."
Harry nodded, and wondered how he should get over the time.
There proved to be so much to take his attention, however, that he was ready to wonder when the boat was run in between two magnificent clumps of trees soon after they had turned off into the lesser river and entered the jungle by one of its water highways.
The men sprang out, and one made the prow fast by a rope, while others scattered, parang in hand, to collect and cut up dead or resinous wood, of which a heap was soon made and set alight, the air being so still that the blue smoke rose up quite straight, to filter, as it were, through the boughs overhead, the men feeding the flames carefully till a good mass of glowing embers was produced.
Over this sylvan fireplace Mike, with a cloth tied about his waist, apron fashion, presided, and in a very short time had prepared the coffee and taken it aboard.
There had been no preparations—no hunting for provisions, to add to the toothsomeness of the breakfast; but eaten out there in the open boat, under the shade of the majestic trees, with the river gliding by, the strange cries from the jungle heard from time to time, and the attention of the lads constantly attracted to bird, insect, or reptile, they were ready to declare that they had never enjoyed such a breakfast before.
"How grand it would be to live always like this!" cried Harry.
"Beautiful," said the doctor; "especially in the rainy seasons, when you could keep nothing dry and find no wood that would burn."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon; "rain does damp one's enthusiasm."