Ken fell asleep. He did not have peaceful slumbers. He had been too excited to rest well. He would wake up out of a nightmare, then go to sleep again. He seemed to wake suddenly out of one of these black spells, and he was conscious of pain. Something tugged at his leg.
"What the dickens!" he said, and raised on his elbow. Hal was asleep between George and Pepe, who were snoring.
Just then Ken felt a violent jerk. The blankets flew up at his feet, and his left leg went out across his brother's body. There was a string--a rope--something fast round his ankle, and it was pulling hard. It hurt.
"Jiminy!" shouted Ken, reaching for his foot. But before he could reach it another tug, more violent, pulled his leg straight out. Ken began to slide.
"What on earth?" yelled Ken. "Say! Something's got me!"
The yells and Ken's rude exertions aroused the boys. And they were frightened. Ken got an arm around Hal and the other around George and held on for dear life. He was more frightened than they. Pepe leaped up, jabbering, and, tripping, he fell all in a heap.
"Oh! my leg!" howled Ken. "It's being pulled off. Say, I can't be dreaming!"
Most assuredly Ken was wide awake. The moonlight showed his bare leg sticking out and round his ankle a heavy trot-line. It was stretched tight. It ran down over the bank. And out there in the river a tremendous fish or a crocodile was surging about, making the water roar.
Pepe was trying to loosen the line or break it. George, who was always stupid when first aroused, probably imagined he was being mauled by a jaguar, for he loudly bellowed. Ken had a strangle-hold on Hal.
"Oh! Oh! Oh-h-h!" bawled Ken. Not only was he scared out of a year's growth; he was in terrible pain. Then his cries grew unintelligible. He was being dragged out of the tent. Still he clung desperately to the howling George and the fighting Hal.