At that Andy reached again for the gun on which he seemed to depend so much.
"Well, if any of 'em take a sneaking notion to look in on us, why I'm meaning to use up a few of these flat-nosed cartridges in this six-shot magazine," he remarked, sturdily, as he glanced cautiously around.
"No fear of that now," said his chum, reassuringly. "The danger will come, if it does at all, later on, when we have more trouble keeping the fire going. So after we get this supper down we shall have to gather fuel. It may not be quite so nice to go after it when we see a line of yellow eyes watching all around."
"Oh, shucks! You're just stringing me now, Frank. If I really thought they'd be as bold as that, why I'd climb a tree, that's what."
"What good would that do, tell me?" jeered the other. "Why, these cats just live in trees and can leap twenty feet if they can one. Perhaps if you found a hollow tree now you might feel safe, but in the branches of one—never! Why, the monkeys would come and laugh at you. The ground is the best place for us, after all, Andy."
"More coffee in the pot, if you ain't afraid of staying awake," suggested the cook.
"That would just suit me, for you see I'm more afraid of going to sleep than anything else while on guard duty," Frank remarked, soberly.
By degrees Andy realized that this business of camping in the heart of a tropical forest was no laughing matter. Still, they had escaped so many threatening perils that he was beginning to believe they must be under the protecting wing of some favoring god and that success lay just ahead.
They sat up and talked for a long time. Neither would admit being at all sleepy, and yet Frank caught his chum yawning ever so many times.
"Here, you, just make up your mind to turn in and get seven winks," he said, pretending to be giving orders with all the airs of a commanding officer.