“It is high time the boys came back.”

So spoke Professor Strong, on the evening following the departure of Frank and Mark up the Orinoco. It was after nine o’clock, and all was silent around the camp save for the distant cries of the night birds and the howling of the monkeys. The professor stood on the edge of the bluff, gazing anxiously through the gloom that overhung the broad watercourse.

“It is odd they are not back,” said Darry, who was close at hand. “I hope no harm has befallen them.”

Hockley had already thrown himself down in the tent and was fast asleep, despite a plague of gnats which had but recently put in an appearance. Sam sat by the fire sewing up a hole he had torn in his jacket. The Indian was at the water’s edge, fishing with a net he had made of braided vines.

As the time slipped by Professor Strong, Darry and Sam grew more anxious and none of them felt like going to sleep. The Indian came in and threw himself down and then the others sat down to talk in whispers.

By daybreak the professor had made up his mind to go after the missing ones. He decided to take Cubara with him, leaving the others to watch the camp.

“If I find the boys I’ll be back before dinner time,” said Professor Strong. “If not, I won’t return until they are found.”

“Well, I’m sure I hope you have quick luck,” said Sam. “We’ll be very anxious until you return.”

Soon the professor and the Indian were out of sight and the boys turned back to put the camp in order. Hockley threw himself on a rock, declining to take a hand in the work.

“You ought to do your share,” said Sam. “It’s not fair to expect us to do everything.”

“You shut up!” cried Hockley. “I’ll do as I please. If you say a word I’ll pitch into you!”

He was in an ill humor and spoiling for a fight, as Darry and Sam could readily see. Yet Sam was not daunted.

“It’s not fair, Hockley. Everybody ought to do his share of the work,” he went on.

“Oh, leave him alone, Beans,” came from Darry. “We can’t stop him from being lazy.”

The words had scarcely been uttered when the angry youth, caught up a billet of wood and flung it at Darry. It struck the lad in the shoulder hurting him not a little. Darry rushed at him, but leaping up with a club in his hands, Hockley stood on guard.

“Leave me alone!” he exclaimed. “The first of you to get too close will get a crack with this.”

“Let us both pitch into him,” came from Sam. “He ought to have a first-class thrashing.”

“You let me alone!” howled Hockley. “Don’t you dare to touch me!”

“Drop that club,” came from Darry. “Drop it, I say, or Sam and I will certainly pitch into you and you’ll get more than you want.”

“I—I won’t drop the club until you promise to let me alone.”

“Why did you fling that piece of wood at me?”

“You hadn’t any right to jaw at me.”

“It was your business to do your share of the work here.”

A war of words followed, and in the end Hockley dropped the club and consented to do some of the work. As soon as it was finished, he picked up his gun and started to move off.

“Where are you going?” demanded Darry. “The professor told us to remain here until he got back.”

“I’m going down the river a bit. I reckon there’s no harm in that,” answered Hockley and without waiting for further argument he strode away and was soon lost to sight in the jungle.

“He wouldn’t go off like that if he wasn’t boiling mad,” observed Sam.

After cleaning up the two boys started in to fish, there being nothing else by which to while away the time. But biting was not lively, and after half an hour of only fair success they walked up the bluff again. They had just reached the tent when they heard a gunshot, followed by a yell of fright.

“That’s Hockley!” ejaculated Darry. “He has stirred up something and it has scared him to death.”

“Help! help!” came faintly to their ears. “Help!”

“We had better go and see what is the matter,” said Sam, and caught up a rifle. Darry had already reached for a shotgun, and thus armed both boys sped down the bluff again and in the direction from whence the cries proceeded.

They had not far to go. Beyond the bend of the stream was an inlet and back of this a somewhat open glade, bordered by half a dozen low-drooping rubber trees. Among these trees stood Hockley, fairly paralyzed with terror and close at hand, swinging from a branch, was a boa-constrictor all of fifteen feet in length.

“Help! save me!” screamed the unfortunate youth.

“Oh, what a snake!” burst out Darry, and then stood still, hardly knowing whether to proceed or not.

Sam said nothing, but brought his rifle to his shoulder, took quick aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet sped true and buried itself in the boa-constrictor’s neck.

The shot awakened Darry to action and now he too blazed away, peppering the big snake in the head and body. The second shot from his gun was at close range and fairly tore a piece of skin from the huge reptile’s neck.

But a boa-constrictor is not easily killed, and though badly wounded it yet had a great deal of fight in it. Still holding to the tree branch with its tail it shot forth its body and in an instant had Hockley by the waist.

“Help! save me!” screamed the unfortunate youth. “Oh, please save me! Don’t let him crush me to pieces!”

In an agony of fear he tried to pull himself loose, but without avail. The snake lifted him up from the ground with ease, intending doubtless to crush him to a jelly on the tree trunk.

But now Sam rushed as close as had Darry. The rifle was a repeating weapon—one of the best the party possessed—and shoving it at the snake’s head the youth let drive twice in quick succession. Then, without waiting to see the effect of these shots, he put two additional bullets in the boa-constrictor’s body. The reptile quivered from head to tail then remained motionless.

It was an anxious moment and the hearts of all three boys seemed to stop beating. Hockley tried to call out, but could not, for the boa-constrictor was fairly crushing in his ribs.

But after that moment had passed the boys saw that they had won the battle. The head of the boa-constrictor dropped and the muscles of the huge body relaxed. Then Hockley slipped to the damp earth and slowly the reptile’s body dropped on top of him.

“He must be dead,” whispered Darry, hoarsely, and with his gun started to release Hockley from the loathsome weight. Sam assisted, and soon they had him free and was dragging him out of harm’s way. From a safe distance they watched the boa-constrictor and at last felt certain that it was dead.

“He’s in a bad way,” said Sam, leaning over Hockley. The youth lay in a heap, totally unconscious and breathing with difficulty.

“It was awful,” returned Darry. “What a close shave! Let us take him down to the river and bathe his face.”

They did as suggested, but even this failed to revive Hockley. Then Darry ran back to the camp for some medicine which was administered with care. But it was fully an hour before Hockley opened his eyes.

“Take him off!” he moaned. “Take the horrible thing off!”

“You’re safe now, Hockley,” said Darry, kindly. “The boa-constrictor is dead.” But Hockley was now out of his mind and did not understand, and he continued to plead most piteously that they save him from being crushed to death.

“We’ll have to carry him back to camp,” said Sam, and this was done. It was no easy task to get the hurt one up the bluff. Once in camp they fixed Hockley a soft bed and did all they could to make him otherwise comfortable.

“I never want to see another boa-constrictor, not even in a menagerie,” declared Sam. “I’ll dream of that thing for a week.”

The boys remained in camp after that. It was nightfall before Hockley came to his senses and then he complained of a severe pain in the chest. They uncovered him and rubbed him down with liniment.

“Is it dead?” he asked. “How did you kill it?” And when they told him he shook his head slowly, as if in wonder. Later on he called them both to him. “I’m much obliged for what you did,” he said humbly. “It was great. I shan’t forget it. I’m sorry we had the row.”

“So am I sorry,” returned Sam, and Darry nodded to show he agreed. “We can’t afford to quarrel out here, Jake. We may need each other’s help, eh?”

“That’s just what I was thinking. I guess I was a big fool to start it anyway. Let’s call it off, will you?”

“Certainly!” cried Darry.

“With all my heart,” came from Sam.

Hockley took the hand of each and pressed it briefly. He looked one and the other in the eyes and then his gaze dropped. “All right, we’ll be friends,” he said, in a lower voice than ever.

Nobody felt like talking after this. Darry started up the fire and got out some things for dinner. Sam brought up the fish and cleaned them. Hockley turned over on his back and dozed away, occasionally uttering a low groan. Yet every one of the lads felt better because of what had just passed.