Finally, after an hour’s constant traveling, they heard a crashing sound in the jungle not far ahead, and they were on the alert at once.
A moment later Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton emerged and looked about.
Their eyes fell on Bob and Joe, and the men rushed forward in intense relief and thankfulness.
“Boys!” cried Mr. Holton, almost unable to believe his own eyes.
The next instant they were stammering out words of thanksgiving at finding their sons alive and apparently none the worse for their experience.
“We didn’t see how you could possibly escape tragedy,” said Mr. Lewis gravely. “Getting lost in the vast Amazon jungle is a serious thing, especially when you have no food of any kind with you.”
“All the time we were in doubt as to how we’d come out,” said Bob. “Worst part of it was that we were afraid to hike far for fear of getting farther away from the river, but we knew we couldn’t get any place sitting down.”
“Tell us all about it,” urged Mr. Holton, and the youths related their experience from start to finish. They told of shooting the jaguar, of the necessary abandoning of Bob’s rifle, and of the flight that followed. And at last of coming across the strange tribe of Indians that was probably the one Professor Bigelow had been searching for.
“A fearful experience,” breathed Mr. Lewis, when the youths had finished. “Not many could have had such good luck. If you hadn’t come across the Indians, your fate would probably have been sealed by now.”
“But wait,” hesitated Joe, with a sudden recollection. “Here’s the chief of the tribe we got in with. We finally got him to come with us.”