“Hurrah!” cried Joe. “Now we eat!”
A fire was built of dead wood in the vicinity, and the young hunters’ quarry was placed over the flames to bake. Before long a delicious odor filled the clearing, and the youths prepared a feast fit for a king.
“Roast duck! Think of that!” cried Joe.
The bird tasted good, despite the fact that it was rather tough. Bob and Joe ate heartily, until only a small portion was left. Then they stretched themselves on the soft grass for a short rest.
“I feel like getting some sleep,” remarked Joe. “But of course——”
He stopped suddenly and strained his ears to listen.
Bob looked inquiringly but remained quiet.
A moment later there came a long, weird chant that cut through the thin jungle air with remarkable clearness. It was repeated several times, always nearer. Never before had the youths heard anything like it, and they were intensely bewildered.
Bob looked inquiringly at his friend, but the latter could give no explanation.
“Beyond me,” he muttered.