Just then Harry caught sight of a flight of parrots, which had pitched in some trees near at hand. Reginald and he crept near. Firing together they brought down nearly a dozen. They were picking up the birds when they heard Hector cry out. Running back to the water-hole, they saw him almost in the middle.
“Help me! help me!” he shouted.
“Why, if you’ve got thus far, why can’t you wade back again?” asked Harry.
“There are some horrid creatures sticking to me, and I don’t know what they will do,” cried Hector.
Harry and Reggy, caring nothing for the wetting, plunged in, and soon helped Hector back on to dry ground. He had not cried out without reason, for what was their dismay to see twenty or thirty leeches sticking to his body, and several had fixed themselves to their own arms even during the short time they had been in the water. They pulled them off as fast as they could, but found it no easy matter to stop the blood which flowed from some of the spots to which the creatures had fixed themselves.
“I shall bleed to death! I shall bleed to death!” sighed poor Hector.
“I don’t think things will be so bad as that,” said Harry.
The leeches were very small at first, looking somewhat like thick bits of hair, but they rapidly began to swell, and two which stuck on Reggy’s wrist, which he did not observe while assisting his brother, had grown to the size of his little finger. Fortunately the leeches were wiped off poor Hector’s body before they had time to extract much of his blood. Although he declared that he felt very faint he soon recovered, and being attended to by Reggy and Harry, put on his clothes, vowing that it should be the last time he would ever bathe in that detestable country.
“All water-holes have not got leeches in them,” observed Harry. “There are none in those near Stratton, and I would advise you to break that resolution.”
Hector, however, declaring that he felt very ill, insisted on returning home.