s all right."

The carpenter forced his way out of the jungle soon after, glaring at
Pete.

"Here," he cried gruffly, "what d'ye mean by scaring a fellow like
that?"

"It warn't me," cried Pete. "You said it was our ship coming after us."

"Never mind, now," said my uncle. "Set the fire going again, and get
yourselves some breakfast; but don't be in such a hurry to take fright
next time. We'd better have our dinner at the same time, Nat; and if
there's any wind this evening we'll sail southward."

There was plenty of wind, and so quite early in the afternoon the anchor
was placed on board, Pete tucked up his trousers and ran the boat out,
and then scrambled in to help with the sail. Then, as the boat careened
over and glided away, he and his companion gave a hearty cheer.

We sailed along the coast southward for days and days, always finding
plenty to interest and a few specimens worth shooting, both Bill and
Pete looking on with the most intense interest at the skinning and
preserving, till one day the latter said confidently:

"I could do that, Mr Nat."

"Very well," I said; "you shall try with one of the next birds I shoot."

"At last," cried my uncle a day or two later, and, seizing the tiller,
he steered the boat straight for a wide opening and into what seemed to
be a lake, so surrounded were we by tropical trees.

But the current we met soon showed that we were at the mouth of a
good-sized river, and the wind being in our favour, we ran up it a dozen
miles or so before evening.

For a long time the shores right and left had been closing in, and our
progress growing slower, for the forest, which had been at some
distance, now came down to the water's edge, the trees were bigger, and
for the last two miles we had sailed very slowly, shut in as we were by
the great walls of verdure which towered far above the top of our mast
and completely shut out the wind.

Fortunately, the river was deep and sluggish so that progression was
comparatively easy, and every hundred yards displayed something tempting
to so ardent a naturalist as my uncle.

Not always pleasant, though, for the sluggish waters swarmed with huge
alligators, and every now and then one plunged in from the bank with a
mighty splash.

Some of the first we saw were approached innocently enough--for to
unaccustomed eyes they looked like muddy logs floating down stream, and
Pete laughed at me when I told him to lift his oar as we passed one