The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 25

But it was too late. Tubby had already stepped over the side of the launch. As his foot touched the log a surprising thing happened. What had seemed a balk of old rotten timber gave a leap that threw Tubby into the water, and at the same instant a vast pair of jaws, armed with double rows of gleaming teeth, flashed wide open. The alligator--for that was what Tubby's "log" was--gave a menacing, hissing sound and a flourish of its formidable tail.

The next instant a rifle cracked sharply. The creature gave a roar as a bullet crashed down its open throat. Rob, seeing Tubby's peril, had s.n.a.t.c.hed Fred's rifle from him and pumped a bullet into the monster reptile where it would do the most good. He pumped the repeating mechanism and two more bullets drove into the 'gator before it sank, crimsoning the muddy water. They saw no more of it and Mr. Mainwaring declared that Rob must have killed it.

Tubby, up to his waist in water, gasped as he beheld his narrow escape and Rob's prompt action.

"Gee whiz! This is a funny country," he mumbled, after he had been lectured for his carelessness. "Cocoanuts explode and old rotten logs turn into alligators."

On his promise to be careful and keep well within call, Tubby was allowed to go on sh.o.r.e with Fred and you may be sure he used the landing plank this time. The two boys struck off straight into the jungle and then kept a course that lay parallel to the river bank. All at once Tubby gave a violent exclamation and almost fell over backward. A lizard, but a lizard almost as big as himself, had run through the jungle right in front of him.

"A Panama water-lizard," declared Fred, who had put in more time studying the country from books than had Tubby. "It's harmless."

"It doesn't look so," was Tubby's comment.

But a more thrilling encounter lay just ahead of them. Hanging from a tree, and slowly swaying to and fro, was what looked like a beautifully marked liana or hanging creeper.

"Oh, what a beauty," exclaimed Fred, stepping forward, but the next instant he recoiled with a yell of alarm.

The creeper had emitted a loud, angry hiss and then they saw that it was no creeper at all, but a brilliantly colored snake, at least fifteen feet long, that was swinging from a limb around which its tail was coiled.

Tubby echoed Fred's yell of alarm and the next instant both boys took to their heels in mad flight. The serpent had swiftly and silently begun writhing its way to the ground.

"Run for your life!" cried Tubby wildly. "He's after us."

Stumbling over creepers, falling headlong, and then struggling to their feet again, and keeping on with their mad rush, the two terrified boys ran for their lives. Behind them came a thras.h.i.+ng sound as the big snake made its way after them.

In their alarm they lost all sense of direction or distance. All they knew was that the big reptile was pursuing them, and they raced along without considering anything but escaping from it. It never even occurred to them to open fire on it with their rifles.

How far they ran they had no idea. All they knew was that at last, when, from sheer exhaustion they paused, there was no sound of pursuit. The vast woods were silent. All at once they had a fresh fright. This time from overhead. There was a mighty commotion in the tree-tops accompanied by shrill barks and cries.

"Gracious, what's coming now?" gasped Tubby. "I wish we were back on the launch!"

But it was only a troop of white-faced, long-tailed monkeys swinging by, traveling along the tree-top high road at almost incredible speed. They paused as they saw the boys standing there below them. Gathering together they began to chatter and make a terrible noise.

Then, making horrible grimaces and yelling angrily, they broke off sticks and began to pelt the two lads furiously with them. Suddenly Tubby raised his rifle and fired at them. Instantly they made off, shrieking at the top of their voices and swinging from limb to limb by means of their long tails which they used as conveniently as hands.

The monkeys gone with their bewildering chatter, the boys began to look about them. They were standing in a spot where the undergrowth was not so dense, but they could see that they were in the depths of the forest. As they looked around them the same thought clutched uncomfortably hard at the heart of each. How far had they come on their wild run to escape the great serpent? Also, in what direction had their retreat led them? Tubby was the first to give these disquieting thoughts words.

"Where are we, Fred?"

"I--I don't know. Haven't you got your compa.s.s?"

"Yes, but I didn't take any bearings when we left the river."

"Let's strike out and try to get back. At any rate we'll hear the whistle before long."

"That's so. I forgot that. Better sit down here and wait till we hear it, then. No use wandering about, we might go in a wrong direction."

But had the boys known it, the launch whistle, not a very powerful one, was at that very minute blowing repeatedly for them. Their wild dash to escape from the huge snake had carried them far into the jungle.

They sat there for a long time, each busied with his own thoughts. At last Tubby rose.

"It's funny we don't hear that whistle, Fred," he said, "but I've been thinking that maybe we ran further than we thought from that beast in the tree. Now I'm pretty sure the river lies that way," he pointed in a directly opposite direction. "Let's strike out for it."

"All right," agreed Fred, whose face had begun to a.s.sume an alarmed look.

"S-s-s-s-say, Tubby, you don't think we're lost, do you?"

Tubby was quick to note the quaver in Fred's voice, and he bravely put on a careless air.

"Lost! Not a bit of it. Two Boy Scouts lost in a bit of timber like this?

Not much. Come on, old chap, and we'll be laughing over our scare within an hour's time."

But hour after hour went by and still the two lads, now thoroughly scared, though neither had yet admitted it, plunged along through the jungle. At last when they reached a small open s.p.a.ce, Fred could stand it no longer. He sank down on a fallen tree trunk and fairly gave way to his fears.

"We're lost, Tubby," he moaned, "and it's no use going any further. I can't, in fact. I'm dead tired out. What on earth shall we do?"

The fat boy looked at his comrade with alarmed eyes. It was plain that Fred was on the verge of a nervous collapse. Their position was bad enough without that. And yet Tubby could find no words to comfort his companion. What Fred had said was the truth; they were lost in the trackless jungle, a terrifying situation indeed. From time to time during their wanderings they had fired their rifles, hoping to hear some response, but none had come.

Tubby, however, had, whenever possible, marked the trail either by barking or blazing a tree with his knife in Indian fas.h.i.+on, or by leaving gra.s.s and stone signs in a manner familiar to all first-cla.s.s Scouts.

This was now the only crumb of comfort he could offer to Fred.

"Cheer up. Maybe they'll pick up the trail," he said as hopefully as he could.

"But if they don't, we--gracious! Look there!"

Facing the two lost boys was a party of squat, copper-colored little men with big round heads and straight black hair. They carried bows and arrows and spears. Their clothes consisted of old sacking, bits of cloth, anything in fact that would partially cover them. They evidently formed a hunting party, for some of them carried wild pigs and one or two had a deer slung on a branch between them. They had crept up quite silently and now regarded the interlopers intently.

For an instant the two white boys stood stock-still, as if turned to stone. Then by a natural impulse, they turned and started to run. But a spear whizzed through the air after them, transfixing itself quivering in a tree just above their heads.

This brought them to a halt. Weapons they had none, for when they paused they had laid down their rifles and in their precipitate, startled flight had forgotten to pick them up again.

Utterly unnerved by this added sheaf to their bundle of misfortunes, the two Boy Scouts stood facing the Indians who, they had no doubt, formed a hunting or scouting party sent out by the San Blas tribes that made their homes back in the mysterious recesses of the mountains where rose the headwaters of the Chepalta.

CHAPTER XXV.

A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS.

In the meantime Rob and Merritt, working waist deep in the muddy shallows, had succeeded, after some rather arduous work, in clearing the stern wheel of its entangling rope. The line had become twisted in and out of the shaft in such a way that it was necessary in places to cut it loose.

When this had been done, Mr. Mainwaring decided that before blowing the whistle to summon back the young hunters they would give the machinery a test. Accordingly, when the canoes had been secured to the sh.o.r.e, Rob reversed the engine and started it up.

For a moment it whirled and chugged away, straining to back the launch off the muddy shallows in which she had grounded. The lightly built craft trembled under the effort. The engine snorted and puffed as more power was applied.

"Hooray! We're afloat once more!" cried Merritt triumphantly, as the launch was caught in the current and swung free. But at the same instant came an ominous cracking sound. The engine raced wildly and then stopped as Rob shut off the power.

"What's the matter now?" cried Mr. Raynor apprehensively, as the launch began to drift downstream in a helpless way.