The Radio Detectives in the Jungle by A. Hyatt Verrill

Author:A. Hyatt Verrill
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620134368
Publisher: Duke Classics

Chapter VIII - On the Trail

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Rockstone, the last outpost of civilization, had been left far behind and many miles of river had been covered when at last Colcord turned the boat's bow towards shore and ran the craft alongside a fallen tree that sloped from the high bank into the water.

Although the boys had seen much to interest them as they paddled upstream, yet they were cramped and tired, for, with the exception of a short stop for lunch at noon, they had been seated in the boat for nearly ten hours. Moreover, after the first few miles, the river and its banks were merely a constant repetition of what they had seen: walls of tangled jungle like a vast green velvet curtain rising from the river; vivid flowering trees; great azure blue butterflies; noisy carrion hawks; chattering parrots and ungainly yelping toucans along the shore—all reflected as in a mirror by the oily brown water.

They had expected to see Indians and to have the thrill of navigating rapids, but Mr. Thorne explained that these would not be reached until the following day and the boys were glad indeed to step on dry land and stretch their cramped legs when the boat at last was run ashore and preparations were made to camp.

Rapidly and with perfect system, the Indians commenced work, cutting poles and stakes and in an incredibly short time a big tarpaulin had been spread between the trees, hammocks were stretched and ready and the savory odors of coffee, bacon, and broiling meat were wafted from the campfire where Sam was presiding as cook.

Presently Joseph approached, naked save for a scarlet loin cloth, and looking the thoroughly primitive Indian with a long bow and arrows in his hand.

"Mebbe you likeum sabby how Buckman shootum fish," he remarked.

"You bet we would!" cried Frank, jumping up. And then, remembering that he must talk the Indian's jargon, he added, "Me likeum too much. Me come see."

The Indian grinned and, without a word, turned and slipped silently into the forest with the two boys at his heels. For a short distance he led the way among the trees and then, turning towards the river, came out upon a jutting rocky point. Raising his hand as a signal for caution, he stopped, fitted a six-foot arrow to his bow, and stepped silently towards the water's edge. Intently the two boys watched, utterly at a loss as to what Joseph intended to do. Then they saw him suddenly straighten up and quickly draw the huge bow. Like a streak of light the long arrow darted into the river. The next instant he threw aside his bow, rushed forward, and, seizing the floating arrow, dragged a big silvery fish upon the rocks.

"Gosh!" exclaimed Tom, as the two boys rushed forward to where the Indian was extracting a barbed iron arrow point from the fish. "I never saw anything like that! Why, he shot the fish with his arrow."

"Say, that is a new way of fishing!" cried Frank, as he examined the weapon.

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