"Whew!" whistled Ned, as he and Tom arose in the gray dawn of the morning when Jacinto announced the breakfast which the Indian cook had prepared."That was some night! If this is a sample of the wilds of Honduras, give me the tameness of Shopton.""Oh, we've gone through with worse than this," laughed Tom."It's all in the day's work.We've only got started.I guess we're a bit soft, Ned, though we had hard enough work in that tunnel-digging."After breakfast, while the Indians were making ready the canoes, Professor Bumper, who, in a previous visit to Central America, hadbecome interested in the subject, made a brief examination of some of the dead bats.They were exceptionally large, some almost as big as hawks.and were of the sub-family _Desmodidae_, the scientist said.
"This is a true blood-sucking bat," went on the professor."This," and he pointed to the nose-leaves, "is the sucking apparatus.The bat makes an opening in the skin with its sharp teeth and proceeds to extract the blood.I can well believe two or three of them, attacking a steer or mule at once, could soon weaken it so the animal would die.""And a man, too?" asked Ned.
"Well a man has hands with which to use weapons, but a helpless quadruped has not.Though if a sufficient number of these bats attacked a man at the same time, he would have small chance to escape alive.Their bites, too, may be poisonous for all I know."The Indians seemed glad to leave the "place of the bats," as they called the camp site.Jacinto explained that the Indians believed a vampire could kill them while they slept, and they were very much afraid of the blood-sucking bats.There were many other species in the tropics, Professor Bumper explained, most of which lived on fruit or on insects they caught.The blood-sucking bats were comparatively few, and the migratory sort fewer still.
"Well, we're on our way once more," remarked Tom as again they were in the canoes being paddled up the river."How much longer does your water trip take, Professor?""I hardly know," and Professor Bumper looked to Jacinto to answer."We go two more days in the canoes," the guide answered, "and thenwe shall find the mules waiting for us at a place called Hidjio.From then on we travel by land until--well until you get to the place where you are going.
"I suppose you know where it is?" he added, nodding toward the professor."I am leaving that part to you.""Oh, I have a map, showing where I want to begin some excavations," was the answer."We must first go to Copan and see what arrangements we can make for laborers.After that--well, we shall trust to luck for what we shall find.""There are said to be many curious things," went on Jacinto, speaking as though he had no interest."You have mentioned buried cities.Have you thought what may be in them--great heathen temples, idols, perhaps?" For a moment none of the professor's companions spoke.It was as though Jacinto had tried to get some information.Finally the scientistsaid:
"Oh, yes, we may find an idol.I understand the ancient people, who were here long before the Spaniards came, worshiped idols.But we shall take whatever antiquities we find.""Huh!" grunted Jacinto, and then he called to the paddlers to increase their strokes.
The journey up the river was not very eventful.Many alligators were seen, and Tom and Ned shot several with the electric rifle.Toward the close of the third day's travel there was a cry from one of the rear boats, and an alarm of a man having fallen overboard was given.
Tom turned in time to see the poor fellow's struggles, and at the same time there was a swirl in the water and a black object shot forward.
"An alligator is after him!" yelled Ned.
"I see," observed Tom calmly."Hand me the rifle, Ned."Tom took quick aim and pulled the trigger.The explosive electric bullet went true to its mark, and the great animal turned over in a death struggle.But the river was filled with them, and no sooner had the one nearest the unfortunate Indian been disposed of than another made a dash for the man.
There was a wild scream of agony and then a dark arm shot up above the red foam.The waters seethed and bubbled as the alligators fought under it for possession of the paddler.Tom fired bullet after bullet from his wonderful rifle into the spot, but though he killed some of the alligators this did not save the man's life.His body was not seen again, though search was made for it.
The accident cast a little damper over the party, and there was a feeling of gloom among the Indians.Professor Bumper announced that he would see to it that the man's family did not want, and this seemed to give general satisfaction, especially to a brother who was with the party.
Aside from being caught in a drenching storm and one or two minor accidents, nothing else of moment marked the remainder of the river journey, and at the end of the third day the canoes pulled to shore and a night camp was made.
"But where are the mules we are to use in traveling to-morrow?" asked the professor of Jacinto.
"In the next village.We shall march there in the morning.No use to go there at night when all is dark.""I suppose that is so."
The Indians made camp as usual, the goods being brought from the canoes and piled up near the tents.Then night settled down.
"Hello!" cried Tom, awakening the next morning to find the sun streaming into his tent."We must have overslept, Ned.We were to start before old Sol got in his heavy work, but we haven't had breakfast yet.""I didn't hear any one call us," remarked Ned.
"Nor I.Wonder if we're the only lazy birds." He looked from the tent in time to see Mr.Damon and the professor emerging.Then Tom noticed something queer.The canoes were not on the river bank.There was not an Indian in sight, and no evidence of Jacinto.
"What's the matter?" asked the young inventor."Have the others gone on ahead?""I rather think they've gone back," was the professor's dry comment."Gone back?""Yes.The Indians seem to have deserted us at the ending of this stage of our journey.""Bless my time-table!" cried Mr.Damon."You don't say so! What does it mean? What has becomes of our friend Jacinto?""I'm afraid he was rather a false friend," was the professor's answer."This is the note he left.He has gone and taken the canoes and all the Indians with him," and he held out a paper on which was some scribbled writing.
