came on woofing and snorting with rage. It was the one Mr. Damon had
slightly wounded.

"Come on!" yelled the young inventor, for his friend was in front of
the beast, and in range with the rifle. "Jump to one side, Mr.
Damon."

Mr. Damon tried, but his foot slipped, and there was no need for
jumping. He fell and rolled over. The rhinoceros swerved toward him,
with the probable intention of goring the prostrate man with the
formidable horn, but it had no chance. Once more the young inventor
fired, this time with a heavier charge, and the animal instantly
toppled over dead.

"Are you hurt?" asked Tom anxiously, as he ran to his friend. Mr.
Damon got up slowly. He felt all over himself, and then answered:

"No, Tom, I guess I'm not hurt, except in my dignity. Never again
will I fire at a sleeping rhinoceros unless you are with me. I had a
narrow escape," and he shook Tom's hand heartily.

"Did you see any orchids?" asked the lad with a smile.

"No, those beasts didn't give me a chance! Bless my tape measure!
but they're big fellows!"

Indeed they were fine specimens, and there was the usual rejoicing
among the natives when they brought in the great bodies, pulling
them to the village with ropes made of vines.