“Gorillas live only in certain places, chiefly in mountainous regions,” explained Mr. Holton. “It is very unlikely that we’ll run across any. But of course we can’t be sure.”
If the jungle had been dense before, it was almost impenetrable now. More than once the explorers received cuts and bruises from sharp thorns. Their high shoes protected them from most snakes, the dreaded mamba being one exception. So, although there were difficulties of the trail, the adventurers forgot them in their eagerness to explore.
Farther on they came to something that made them gasp in wonder.
Before them, in an open space, was a large hill of earth that must have been at least forty feet high. Very wide at the base, it tapered up like a cone.
“Don’t tell us this is an ant hill,” muttered Bob, as he and the others stopped to examine it.
“It is just that,” smiled his father. “Whopper, isn’t it?”
“Biggest yet,” pronounced Joe. “And just think, it was built by countless little white ants.”
As he stood looking at the hill, Joe noticed his chum going around to one side.
“What are you going to do?” Joe inquired.
Bob answered the question by climbing the side of the hill. Apparently he found the task easy, for he was soon halfway to the top. In a short time he had reached it and was looking down at his father and friends.