I was somewhat surprised at the eager signs which Duppo made to us to climb up a tree by means of some sipos which hung close at hand. We were hesitating to follow his advice, when he seized Arthur by the arm and dragged him up. I thought it prudent to follow his example, as I had formed a good opinion of his sense. I lifted up True to Arthur, who caught him in his arms; and then I swung myself up to the branch after him. We had just taken our seats facing John, when the peccaries discovered us; and a number of them turning round, charged across the ground on which we had stood. Duppo had got his bow ready, and shot one as they passed. He killed another as, turning round, they charged back again, and then ran about looking up at us, as they had been watching John.

“I am very glad to see you safe!” I shouted out to John; for hitherto we had not had time to speak to him. “But why should we be afraid of these little creatures? They have more reason to be afraid of us, from the number you have killed, I should think.”

“Just look into their mouths, and you will soon see that they are not so harmless as you suppose,” he answered. “I have had a narrow escape of losing my life; for one of them caught me in the leg as I was climbing this tree, and had I let go my hold, the whole herd would have been upon me, and I should have been cut to pieces in a few seconds. Those tusks of theirs are as pointed as needles and as sharp as razors. I am very glad you found me out, too; for I left my wallet hanging on a branch, just before I had to run for my life from these fellows. But how did you get back?”

I briefly told him of our adventures.

“You must have been anxious about me at the camp,” he observed. “But the honest truth is, I lost my way, and at this moment scarcely know where I have got to. I had, however, few fears about myself; but have been very sorry for poor dear Ellen, while I could not tell whether you were safe or not. However, we must drive away these savage little brutes.”

Saying this, he knocked over another. I followed his example. Arthur and Duppo were meantime shooting their arrows at the herd. Undaunted, however, the animals stood collected below us. It was evident that they were influenced rather by dull obstinacy or ignorance of their danger than by courage. At length their obtuse senses showed them that they were getting the worst of it. The survivors began to turn their fierce little eyes towards their dead companions, and it seemed to strike them that something was the matter.

“Shout!” cried out John—“shout! and perhaps we may frighten them away.”

We raised our voices, Duppo joining in with his shrill pipe. The peccaries looked at each other; and then one moved to a little distance, then another, and at last the whole herd set off scampering away through the forest. We sent reiterated shouts after them, fearing that they might otherwise stop, and perhaps come back again; but they at last discovered that discretion is the better part of valour, and the trampling of their feet became less and less distinct, till it was lost in the distance.

We now descended from our perches. I handed down True into Arthur’s arms. True had been very dissatisfied with his position, and, to revenge himself, at once flew at one of the hogs which was struggling at a little distance, and quickly put it out of its pain. We shook hands with John; and, congratulating him on his escape, introduced Duppo to him, and told him how we had become acquainted.

“Here,” he said, “look at these creatures, and you will see that I had good reason to be afraid of them.”