e path along
which he had disappeared.

"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Tom one morning, when the day seemed a bit
cooler than its predecessor. "Let's go for a hunt, or something! I'm
tired of sitting around camp."

"Bless my watch hands! So am I!" cried Mr. Damon. "Let's all go for a
trip. It will do us good."

"And perhaps I can get some specimens of interest," added Professor
Bumper, who, in addition to being an archaeologist, was something of a
naturalist.

Accordingly, having made everything snug in camp, the party, Tom and
Ned equipped with electric rifles, and the professor with a butterfly
net and specimen boxes, set forth. Mr. Damon said he would carry a
stout club as his weapon.

The jungle, as usual, was teeming with life, but as Ned and Tom did not
wish to kill wantonly they refrained from shooting until later in the
day. For once it was dead, game did not keep well in that hot climate,
and needed to be cooked almost immediately.

"We'll try some shots on our back trip," said the young inventor.

Professor Bumper found plenty of his own particular kind of "game"
which he caught in the net, transferring the specimens to the boxes he
carried. There were beautiful butterflies, moths and strange bugs in
the securing of which the scientist evinced great delight, though when
one beetle nipped him firmly and painfully on his thumb his involuntary
cry of pain was as real as that of any other person.

"But I didn't let him get away," he said in triumph when he had dropped
the clawing insect into the cyanide bottle where death came painlessly.
"It is well worth a sore thumb."

They wandered on through the jungle, taking care not to get too far
from their camp, for they did not want to lose their way, nor did they
want to be absent too long in case Tolpec and his native friends should
return.

"Well, it's about time we shot something, I think," remarked Ned, when
they had been out about two hours. "Let's try for some of these wild
turkeys. They ought to go well roasted even if it isn't Thanksgiving."

"I'm with you," agreed Tom. "Let's see who has the best luck. But
tone down the charge in your rifle and use a smaller projectile, or
you'll have nothing but a bunch of feathers to show for your shot. The
guns are loaded for deer."

The change was made, and once more the two young men started off, a
little ahead of Professor Bumper and Mr. Damon. Tom and Ned had not
gone far, however, before they hea