He was growling angrily, exposing yellow fangs that made them shudder.

"Why didn't you look him in the eye?" demanded Dick.

"I was goin' to, but he wouldn't stand still," replied Doc. "Why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

Numa, nervous, irritable, did not relish the idea of losing his supper now that he had discovered a quarry of two young and tender tarmangani, for if there is anything that Numa relishes, even before old age has reduced him to a diet of human flesh, it is the young of the man-tribe. Therefore, as long as they were in sight he did not give up hope. Seldom did Numa, the lion, have reason to envy his cousin Sheeta, the panther; but this was most certainly such an occasion, for could he have climbed with the agility of Sheeta, the prey would soon have been his. Not being able to climb into the tree after his supper he did the next best thing, which was to lie down and wait for it to descend.

Of course if Numa had had the brains of a man he would have known that the boys would not come down while he lay there waiting for them. Perhaps he hoped that they would fall asleep and tumble out of the tree. And it may be that after a while he really did reason the thing out almost as a man would have reasoned it, for after half an hour of waiting he arose and strode majestically back along the trail in the direction from which he had come; but just around the first turn he halted, wheeled about and lay down just out of sight of his intended victims.

"I believe he's gone," whispered Dick. "Let's wait a few minutes and then climb down and see if we can find the path. It can't be so very far from here."

"If we wait very long it will be dark," said Doc.

"Do you suppose they could hear us if we yelled?" asked Dick.

"If they did hear us and came in, the lion might get them."

"I never thought of that--no, we mustn't yell." Dick scratched his head in thought. "There must be some way out of this," he continued. "We can't stay here forever--even if you do think it would be nice to spend the night in the jungle."

"If we climb down we may run right into that old lion and we haven't got an umbrella, or anything," said Doc, grinning.

"I've got it!" cried Dick. "I've got it! Why didn't we think of it before?"

"Think of what?"

"Why, swinging through the trees like Tarzan! He didn't come down to the ground when a lion was after him, if he didn't want to--he just swung through the trees. Why can't we swing through the trees right back to the train?"

"Gee!" exclaimed Doc. "That's a great idea. I'll bet they'll be surprised when we come swinging through the trees and drop right down in front of them."

"And I guess their eyes won't stick out like two peeled onions or anything when we tell 'em we were chased by a lion," added Dick.

"Come on then! Which way is the train?"

"This way," and Dick led off at right angles to the trail, working his way carefully along the limb of the tree, seeking carefully foothold below and handhold above.

"I don't call that swinging," said Doc.

"Well, smarty, let's see you swing."

"You're Tarzan's cousin--if you can't do it how do you expect me to?"

"Well," explained Dick, "I've got to practice a little bit, haven't I? You don't expect a fellow to do it the first thing off without a little practice, do you?"

But at the moment Doc was too busy worming his way gingerly after Dick to think up a suitable reply. From one tree to another they made their way and as they progressed they soon became more sure of themselves and their pace increased accordingly. By chance Dick had started in the right direction. The train lay directly ahead of them, though further away than either would have imagined; but following a straight line through the trees of a dense forest where there are no land marks to guide one and where the sun is not visible as a beacon of safety is a thing not easily done. It was not at all strange, therefore, that within the first hundred yards Dick had so altered his original course that the boys were moving at a right angle to the proper direction and within the next hundred had turned almost completely back and were "swinging" directly away from the railway. A few minutes later they crossed the wide game trail they had so recently left, but so thick was the foliage beneath them that they did not see the trail at all, and they were still bravely travelling their perilous path when the sudden tropical night shut down upon the jungle, engulfing them in its black folds.

Below them a lion roared. Out of the black void rose the weird scream of a panther. Something moved in the trees above them. The night life of the jungle was awakening with its sounds of stealthily moving bodies, with its terrifying noises, with its awful silences.

CHAPTER THREE

A new day burst gorgeously into life. A brilliant sun shone down upon the leafy canopy of green that roofed the great forest; but far beneath all was dark and gloomy still. A sleek, black warrior moved silently along a jungle trail. On his back he carried a small, oval shield, his bow and his quiver filled with arrows. Bracelets of iron and of copper encircled his arms. Through the septum of his nose, which had been pierced to receive it, was a cylindrical piece of wood, six or eight inches in length; from the lobes of his ears depended heavy ornaments; necklaces encircled his ebon throat and there were many metal bands and anklets upon his legs; his hair was plastered thick with mud into which he had stuck several gaudy feathers. His teeth were filed to sharp points. In one hand he bore a light hunting spear.