man. At last the latter smiled weakly, and said, "Well, good-bye,
my boy. You and your pals did your best, but I'm done for now.
Hartley's my name, and tell the boys back at the camp that I died game,
anyway. Tell them----"

But at this point Bert dashed madly away, pulling his sharp hunting knife
from its sheath as he ran. He plunged into a thick clump of reeds on the
edge of the swamp, and hastily cut an unusually long and tough one. He
put it to his lips and blew through it, assuring himself that it was
hollow. Then he rushed madly back to the place where the engineer was
immersed. Nor was he a minute too soon.

The man had sunk until the mud was at his very lips, and in another few
moments it would inevitably close over his mouth and nostrils. Bert
dashed out on the quaking path, careless of his own danger, and in a few
words explained his plan to the engineer. The latter's eyes lighted up
with hope, and expressed the thanks he had no time to utter.

Bert got as near him as he could, and thrust one end of the reed into
Hartley's mouth. His teeth and lips closed tightly about it.

"There you are." exclaimed Bert, exultantly. "Now you can breathe
through that reed until help comes from camp, and then we'll get you out
if we have to drain the swamp to do it. I'll stay right here till they
come, and the reed will mark your position. Keep up hope and you'll be
all right yet."

His eloquent eyes told Bert that he understood, and now there was nothing
to do but sit down and wait for the expected help to arrive from camp.
He knew that this would not be for some time yet, and his only hope was
that the man in the swamp would not sink deeper than the length of the
reed.

He sank very slowly now, but none the less surely, and gradually the mud
covered his mouth--his nostrils--his eyes--and at length his head sank
beneath the surface. The smooth mire closed over the place where he had
been, and the slender reed was all that remained to connect him with the
living, pulsing world about.

At the thought of the horrible death the engineer would now have suffered
without the aid of that frail thing Bert shuddered, and thanked Heaven
for the inspiration.

The seething tropic life went on without interruption, as Bert sat on the
edge of the swamp with his eyes fastened on the reed. From the jungle
back of him came the myriad cries of the wild things: the chatter of
monkeys, the screams of the gaily colored par