“Jaguar, for sure!” Tom replied shakily. “Mr. Jaguar, take your supper and don’t bother us any more. And, fellows, let’s hurry up and finish our own eating so we won’t tempt any of his cousins and brothers to come any closer.”
They gave the meat only time to cook, and then wasted no moments in tasting: the flesh proved to be quite palatable and it was consumed with the hearty avidity of appetites denied since noon. What they had left they flung far into the darkness: sudden, rushing sounds, several shrill squeals and one yelp very much like that of a startled dog, gave them the assurance that the jungle denizens were on hand.
The chums changed their plans about watching, two remaining awake and alert while one slept. Not that much sleep came to any of them.
From time to time, sometimes close, sometimes afar, they heard the weird, child-like cry of a jungle cat; the “teesh-teesh” of some other animal, a peccary, perhaps, and, once, the slithering progress of a large snake, apprised them that the jungle life was close around them.
But the bright fire served to restrain jungle curiosity and to hold the more fierce animals at bay, although during the night they saw eyes that glinted green, with a demon-like anger smouldering in them, and knew that the meat-eaters were abroad and watching their chance.
“Golly, I’m glad daylight’s coming,” yawned Nicky when the dim green tracery overhead began to let in the light which showed that the sun was getting higher. “I’ve got an idea, fellows. If I could ‘shin up’ that branchy tree yonder, and get to the top, I could see which is East and which is West, and we could judge which way to head for the river.”
Warning him about snakes and ants and poisonous insects he might meet and must avoid during his climb, Cliff and Tom agreed to his plan.
When, after an arduous climb, during which he disappeared from their sight in the heavy foliage, Nicky’s legs appeared again and finally he slid carefully to the ground.
“I brought you some breakfast,” he said, “eggs! If we can roast them in the coals they ought to be good. I know they are birds’ eggs and not poisonous—I took them out of a big nest.”
“That saves us having to shoot for our breakfast,” Tom said. “Now which way is East?”