At last Jack got everything ready, and Raynor started to turn the hand-crank of the generator, for of course a gasoline engine for that purpose could not be carried into the jungle. When the storage batteries were charged, Jack began to pump out the Sea Gypsy’s call. At the first crackle and whip-snap like explosion of the spark the natives scattered with yells. Even Salloo, who was looking on, and had to stand his ground to maintain his dignity before his men, looked uneasy and shifted about nervously.
It was some time before Jack got a reply, but at last he received Thurman’s answering call.
Everything it seemed was O. K. and there was no particular news from his end except that another party had started up-country right on the heels of Mr. Jukes’ expedition. It was thought they were traders, Thurman said. Jack gave his news and then flashed “Good-night.”
He told Mr. Jukes of the conversation and of the start of a second party.
“I heard nothing in Bomobori of a second expedition,” mused Mr. Jukes, on receipt of this information. “But no doubt they are traders. It seems odd, though, that they didn’t join with us if they were coming this way, as is the general custom.”
CHAPTER XXV.—A JUNGLE HOTEL.
The hostelry was divided into half a dozen rooms walled with bamboo, and all on the ground floor. Rough mats of cocoanut cloth alone interposed between the sleepers and the ground, and cockroaches and singing lizards abounded. But by this time the lads had become pretty well used to the night noises of the jungle, which are far more tumultuous after dark than in the day-time, and as for the hard beds, they were too tired to mind much where they slept.
Jack had not slept long when he was awakened by someone calling to him. It was Muldoon. The Irishman was plainly agitated by some excitement as he stood in the grass-curtained door-way.
“Whist!” he exclaimed, holding a finger to his lips, “is thot you Misther Riddy?”