fierce, and would attack one on the slightest provocation.
"I believe I'll sit down here and rest," said Tom, after a mile's tramp, as he came to a little clearing in the woods.
"Very well, I'll go on," decided Mr. Damon. "Mr. Durban said there were sometimes rare orchids in these jungles, and I am very fond of those odd flowers. I'm going to see if I can get any."
He disappeared behind a fringe of moss-grown trees, and Tom sat down, with his rifle across his knees. He was thinking of many things, but chiefly of what yet lay before them—the discovery of the red dwarfs and the possible rescue of the missionaries.
He might have been thus day-dreaming for perhaps a half hour, when he suddenly heard a great commotion in the jungle, in the direction in which Mr. Damon had vanished. It sounded as though some one was running rapidly. Then came the report of the odd man's gun.
"He's seen some game!" exclaimed Tom, jumping up, and preparing to follow his friend. But he did not have the chance. An instant later Mr. Damon burst through the bushes with every appearance of fright, his gun held above
