"What for?"
"We're all treed by javelin--wild pigs."
"I've got to see that," was Hal's reply.
Ken called a sharp, angry order for Hal to keep away. But Hal did not obey. Ken heard him coming, and presently saw him enter one of the little glades. He had Ken's shotgun, and was peering cautiously about.
"Ken, where are you?"
"Here! Didn't I tell you to keep away? The pigs heard you--some of them are edging out there. Look out! Run, kid, run!"
A troop of javelin flashed into the glade. Hal saw them and raised the shotgun.
Boom! He shot both barrels.
The shot tore through the brush all around Ken, but fortunately beneath him. Neither the noise nor the lead stopped the pugnacious little peccaries.
Hal dropped Ken's hammerless and fled.