CHAPTER IX
“IT’S DEATH AN’ DESTRUCTION”
Having barely escaped dropping into the jaws of an alligator, Johnny Thompson wound his leg about his vine rope at a spot where a knotty projection would give him partial support, then proceeded to make a sad survey of the situation. There was the cocoanut tree, and there the alligator. There were two other ’gators floating silently on the surface of the pool. To land there was out of the question. There might be a landing place on the other side of that particular rocky formation. It was his only chance.
After climbing the vine, a slow and painful process, he made a hasty survey. Already it was growing dark. There was need of haste, but the dull stupor of the tropics was still upon him. He could not hasten. He found it necessary to make his way over the jagged rocks for some distance before finding a safe fastening for his vine.
When at last all was secure the sun had gone down and a dark bank of clouds again obscured the sky.
“Got’a hurry,” he told himself. “Got to get down fast.”
He did go down rapidly until he had all but reached the rocky ledge upon which he was to land. There, for a time, he lost his courage. His late experience had unnerved him. What sort of landing was this which he now approached? It is difficult to distinguish a motionless alligator from a rocky surface even in broad daylight. How impossible in the dusk! So he clung there motionless, trying to stare into the half darkness.
“Can—can’t hang here forever,” he breathed at last. “Here goes, and here’s hoping!”
To his great joy he landed safely on a high and dry rock, quite free from danger.
But at once there arose the problem of finding his way to the cocoanut tree. After a half hour of groping about, he uttered a shout of joy:
“There! There it is!”