water-fowl over their heads and an incessant hum of insects from the jungle.
" Ken, does it feel as wild to you here as on Buckskin Mountain?" asked Hal.
" Oh yes, much wilder, Hal," replied his brother. "And it's different, somehow. Out in Arizona there was always the gloriou s expectancy of to-morrow's fun or sport. Here I have a kind of worry--a feeling--"
But he concluded it wiser to keep to himself that strange feeling of dread which came over him at odd moments.
"It suits me," said Hal. " I want to get a lot of things and keep them alive. Of course, I want specimens. I'd like some skins for my den, too. But I don't care so much about killing things."
" Just wait!" retorted George, who evidently took Hal's remark as a reflection upon his weakness. " Just wait! You'll be shooting pretty soon for your life."
' Now, George, what do you mean by that?" questioned Ken, determined to _pin George down to facts. "You said you didn't really know anything about this jungle. Why are you always predicting disaster for us?"
" Why? Because I've heard things about the jungle," retorted George. "And Pepe says wait till we get down off the mountain. He doesn't know anything, either. But it's his instinct--Pepe's half Indian. So I say, too, wait till we get down in the jungle!"
" Confound you! Where are we now?" queried Ken:
" The real jungle is the lowland. Ther e we'll find t h e tigers and the crocodiles and the wild cattle and wild pigs."
" Bring on your old pigs and things," replied Hal.
But Ken looked into the glowing embers of the camp-fire and was silent. When he got out his note-book and began his drawing, he forgot the worry and dread in the interest of his task. He was astonished at his memory, to see how he could remember every turn in the river and yet not lose his sense of direction. He could tell almost perfectly the distance traveled, because he knew so well just how much a boat would cover in swift or slow waters in a given time. He thought he could give a fairly correct estimate of the drop of the river. And, as for descriptions of the jungle life along the shores, that was a delight, all except trying to understand and remember and spell the names given to him by Pepe. Ken imagined Pepe spoke a mixture of Toltec, Aztec, Indian, Spanish, and English.
Chapter IX - IN THE WHITE WATER .
UPON awake ning next morning, Ken found sun an hour high. He was stiff and sore and thirsty. Pepe and the boys slept so soundly it seemed selfish to wake them.
All around camp there was a melodious concourse of birds. But the parrots did not make a visit that morning. While Ken was washing in the river a troop of deer came down to the bar on the opposite side. Ken ran for his rifle, and by mistake took up George's .32. He had a splendid shot at less than one hundred yards. But the bullet dropped fifteen feet in front of the leading buck. The deer ran into the deep, bushy willows.
" That gun's leaded," muttered Ken. " It didn't shoot where I aimed."
Pepe jumped up; George rolled out of his blanket with one eye still glued shut; and Hal stretched and yawned and groaned.
" Do I have to get up?" he asked.
" Shore, lad," said Ken, mimicking Jim Wil liams , "or I'll hey to be reconsiderin' that idee of mine about you bein' paths with me."
Such mention of Hal's ranger friend brought the boy out of his lazy bed with amusing' alacrity.
"Rustle breakfast, now, you fellows," said Ken, and, taking his rifle, he started off to climb the high river bluff.
It was his idea to establish firmly in mind the trend of the mountain-range, and the relation of the river to it. The difficulty in mapping the river would come after it left the mountains to wind away into the wide lowlands. The matter of climbing the bluff would have been easy but for the fact that he wished to avoid contact with grass, brush, trees, even dead branches, as all were covered with ticks. The upper half of the bluff was bare, and when he reached that part he soon