Then, making horrible grimaces and yelling angrily, they broke off sticks and began to pelt the two lads furiously with them. Suddenly Tubby raised his rifle and fired at them. Instantly they made off, shrieking at the top of their voices and swinging from limb to limb by means of their long tails which they used as conveniently as hands.
The monkeys gone with their bewildering chatter, the boys began to look about them. They were standing in a spot where the undergrowth was not so dense, but they could see that they were in the depths of the forest. As they looked around them the same thought clutched uncomfortably hard at the heart of each. How far had they come on their wild run to escape the great serpent? Also, in what direction had their retreat led them? Tubby was the first to give these disquieting thoughts words.
“Where are we, Fred?”
“I—I don’t know. Haven’t you got your compass?”
“Yes, but I didn’t take any bearings when we left the river.”
“Let’s strike out and try to get back. At any rate we’ll hear the whistle before long.”
“That’s so. I forgot that. Better sit down here and wait till we hear it, then. No use wandering about, we might go in a wrong direction.”
But had the boys known it, the launch whistle, not a very powerful one, was at that very minute blowing repeatedly for them. Their wild dash to escape from the huge snake had carried them far into the jungle.
They sat there for a long time, each busied with his own thoughts. At last Tubby rose.
“It’s funny we don’t hear that whistle, Fred,” he said, “but I’ve been thinking that maybe we ran further than we thought from that beast in the tree. Now I’m pretty sure the river lies that way,” he pointed in a directly opposite direction. “Let’s strike out for it.”