"I believe that fire will kill every snake in the jungle," Charley declared with satisfaction.
"I doubt it. They will just keep under water until it is all over," his chum replied.
"That water is shoal and stagnant," Charley reminded him. "Burning branches and trees are dropping in it all the time. I'll bet it is actually boiling by now."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SHOOTING TO KILL.
When night came Charley and Walter had to go on the picket line alone, for the two remaining Spanish guards would have to join the grading gang in the morning. They adopted the plan the first two Spanish guards had used of each one making a half circle of the camp. For several hours they paced wearily back and forth, but as midnight drew near they became more watchful and alert, for this was the hour that their enemies generally chose to make their attacks.
All the camp was fast asleep and silence reigned unbroken, except for the exhaust of the machine and the occasional heavy fall of a fire-eaten tree in the jungle. But in their loneliness the boys were comforted by the knowledge that in their tents Captain, Chris, the engineers, and many of the Spaniards were sleeping, fully dressed with their guns by their sides, ready to run to the lads' assistance at the first alarm.
And soon it came, the sharp crack of rifles around both camp and machine. The two lads answered promptly, firing at the bright streaks of the blazing rifles in the darkness.
"Keep down, keep down. Get behind the sand heaps," Charley shouted, as those in the tents came running to their assistance. "Keep down. They are shooting to kill this time."