"Yes; he was big," assented George.
"I wonder what's going to happen to us next," added Hal.
Ken Ward looked at these companions of his and he laughed outright. "Well, if you all don't take the cake for nerve!"
XX
TREED BY WILD PIGS
Pepe's long years of mozo work, rowing for tarpon fishermen, now stood the boys in good stead. All the hot hours of the day he bent steadily to the oars. Occasionally they came to rifts, but these were not difficult to pass, being mere swift, shallow channels over sandy bottom. The rocks and the rapids were things of the past.
George lay in a kind of stupor, and Hal lolled in his seat. Ken, however, kept alert, and as the afternoon wore on began to be annoyed at the scarcity of camp-sites.
The muddy margins of the river, the steep banks, and the tick-infested forests offered few places where it was possible to rest, to say nothing of sleep. Every turn in the widening river gave Ken hope, which resulted in disappointment. He found consolation, however, in the fact that every turn and every hour put him so much farther on the way.
About five o'clock Ken had unexpected good luck in shape of a small sand-bar cut off from the mainland, and therefore free of cattle-tracks. It was clean and dry, with a pile of driftwood at one end.
"Tumble out, boys," called Ken, as Pepe beached the boat. "We'll pitch camp here."