few hours that remain."

"As you think best, though I am sure it is an unnecessary precaution."

"We must not forget that there are perils from the jungle as well as
from the river. There is no saying what wild beast may pay us a visit."

Inasmuch as Jack could not be dissuaded from his purpose, and Wharton
began to suspect his friend was half right, the question was decided.
Wharton stretched out on the deck, falling asleep almost immediately,
and Jack thus found himself the only one with his senses at command and
with the safety of the others dependent upon him.

He took his place near the cabin, where the women were slumbering, with
his breechloader in hand. He was never more wide awake and was sure he
would remain so for hours to come. Wharton had offered to divide the
duty with him in acting as sentinel, but our hero preferred to keep the
matter in his own hands. He was sure his friend did not realize the
full peril of their situation.

The stillness was broken only by the peculiar cries in the jungle,
which it may be said were never wholly silent. First on the right,
then on the left, then from the front, and again from different points
on both sides of the stream he heard the sounds, some faint and far
away, with others alarmingly close. The hoarse snarl of the tiger, the
finer cry of the leopard, the squawking of night birds, with other
noises that he could not identify, were continually in the air. Had
they been heard for the first time he would have been in a tremor of
fear and nervousness; but man soon becomes accustomed to danger, and
the nearest must come still nearer to cause his pulse an additional