Meanwhile Duff and his companions entered the river, which seemed to be a small stream flowing deviously through a low, half swampy region, where insects swarmed and many kinds of strange animals and bird life were to be seen.
Ralph, to try his Winchester, shot at a blue heron on the wing and made the feathers fly.
"Try it again," urged Duff sharply. "Quick now."
A second shot brought down the bird, and Ralph's opinion of breech loaders was raised at once.
For several hours they pulled up stream, the mate taking his turn at the oars with the others. The trees rose to a gigantic height, while the interlacing undergrowth was at some places impenetrable.
About eleven they halted, mooring the boat to a fallen tree half imbedded in the water. Deep shadows from the overhanging foliage screened them from the now scorching sunlight. After a lunch on dried beef and biscuit, the mate suggested a siesta for an hour or two until it should be cool enough to proceed. Ralph volunteered to keep watch, though there did not seem to be much necessity for vigilance. The whole vast forest and all life within its folds appeared to be steeped in tropical midday repose.
"Well," said the mate, as he and Ben bestowed themselves in the bottom of the boat on some blankets, "if you get too sleepy call Ben. We'll have to cover our heads on account of these wretched gnats and mosquitos."
While the two slumbered, Ralph amused himself at first by examining the mechanism of his Winchester. Tiring of this he fell into a reverie so deep that he hardly realized that he was dozing until roused to wakefulness by a slight pressure upon his hat, which was pulled forward over his eyes.
His first impulse was to start up, but a long, skeleton leg with tiny claws at the end—horribly hairy in a miniature way—slowly protruded over the front brim of his headgear, sending a curdling chill through his veins as he wondered what kind of a creature its owner might be.
Thoughts of the strange, poisonous insects of abnormal size, which he had read of as being common in certain warm countries, coursed through his mind. If he stirred, the thing might claw or bite, and the merest scratch was said, in some kinds of these venomous species, to be fatal.