with all its might, while two otherlarger animals, probably the parents, were clawing thecayman desperately with their fore-feet.
But ill, indeed, would it have fared with all threehad not our heroes appeared just in the nick oftime.
For several more of these scaly and fearsomereptiles were hurrying to the scene of action.
Dick's first shot was a splendid one. It struck theoffending cayman in the eye, and went crashingthrough his brain.
The brute gasped, the blood flowed freely, and as hefell on his side, turning up his yellow belly, the youngtapir got free, and was hurried speedily away to thewoods.
Volley after volley was poured in on the enraged'gators, but the boys had to retreat as they fought.Had they not done so, my story would have stoppedshort just here.
It was not altogether the sun's parting rays that soencrimsoned the water, but the blood of thoseold-world caymans.
Three in all were killed in addition to the one firstshot. So that it is no wonder the boys felt elated.
Beeboo had supper waiting and there was nothingtalked about that evening except their strangeadventures in the beautiful forest.
Probably no one could sleep more soundly than didour heroes and heroine that night.
Next day, and next, they went on shore again, andon the third a huge jaguar, who fancied he would liketo dine off Brawn's shoulder, fell a victim to DickTemple's unerring aim.
But the raft never stirred nor moved for a whole week.
Said Bill to Jake one morning, as he took his meerschaumfrom his mouth:
"I think, Jake, and w'at I thinks be's this like.There ain't ne'er a morsel o' good smokin' and on'yjust lookin' at that fine and valuable pile o' timber.It strikes me conclusive like that something 'ad betterbe done."
"And what would you propose, Bill?" said Jake.
"Well, Jake, you're captain like, and my propositionis subject to your disposition as it were. But I'dlighten her, and lighten her till she floats; then towher off, and build up the odd timbers again."
"Good! You have a better head than I have, Bill; and it's you that should have been skipper, not me."
Nothing was done that day, however, except makinga few more attempts with the steamer at full speed totow her off. She did shift and slue round a little, butthat was all.
Next morning dawned as beautifully as any thathad gone before it.
There were fleecy clouds, however, hurrying acrossthe sky as if on business bent, and the blue betweenthem was bluer than ever our young folks had seen it.
Dick Temple, with Roland and Peggy, had made uptheir minds to go on shore for another day while thework of dismantling the raft went on.
But a fierce south wind began to blow, drivingheavy black clouds before it, and lashing the riverinto foam.
One of those terrible tropic storms was evidentlyon the cards, and come it did right soon.
The darkest blackness was away to the west, andhere, though no thunder could be heard, the lightningwas very vivid. It was evident that this was thevortex of the hurricane, for only a few drops of rainfell around the raft.
The picnic scheme was of course abandoned, and allwaited anxiously enough for something to come.
That something did come in less than an hour-thedescent of the mighty Amazon in flood. Its tributarieshad no doubt been swollen by the awful rainand water-spouts, and poured into the great queen ofrivers double their usual discharge.
A bore is a curling wave like a shore breaker thatrushes down the smaller rivers, and is terriblydestructive to boating or to shipping.
The Amazon, however, did not rise like this. Itcame rushing almost silently down in a broad tallwave that appeared to stretch right across it, from theforest-clad bank where the raft lay to the far-offgreen horizon in the north.
But Burly Bill was quite prepared for eventualities.
Steam had been got up, the vessel's bows wereheaded for up stream, and the hawser betwixt raftand boat tautened.
On and on rushed the huge wave. It toweredabove the raft, even when fifty yards away, in themost threatening manner, as if about to sweep allthings to destruction.
But on its nearer approach it glided in under theraft, and steamer as well-like some huge submarinemonster such as we read of in fairy books of thelong-long-ago-glided in under them, and seemed to liftthem sky-high.
"Go ahead at full speed!"
It was the sonorous voice of Burly Bill shouting tothe engineer.
"Ay, ay, sir!" came the cheery reply.
The screw went round with a rush.
It churned up a wake of foaming water as thePeggy began to forge ahead, and next minute, drivenalong on the breeze, the monster raft began to followand was soon out and away beyond danger from rockor shoal.
Then arose to heaven a prayer of thankfulness, anda cheer so loud and long that even the parrots andmonkeys in the forest depths heard it, and yelled andchattered till they frightened both 'gators and jaguars.
Just two weeks after these adventures, the littlePeggy was at anchor, and the great raft safely beached.
Burly Bill was left in charge with his white menand his Indians, with Dick Temple to act assupercargo, and Jake Solomons with Roland and Peggy, not to mention the dog, started off for Pará.
In due course, but after many discomforts, theyarrived there, and Jake, after taking rooms in ahotel, hurried off to secure his despatches from thepost-office.
"No letters!" cried Jake, as his big brown fist camedown with a bang on the counter. "Why, I see thevery documents I came for in the pigeon-hole behind you!"
The clerk, somewhat alarmed at the attitude ofthis tall Yankee backwoodsman, pulled them out andlooked at them.
"They cannot be delivered," he said.
"And why?" thundered Jake, "Inasmuch as towherefore, you greasy-faced little whipper-snapper!"
"Not sufficient postage."
Jake thrust one hand into a front pocket, and onebehind him. Then on the counter he dashed down abag of cash and a six-chambered revolver.
"I'm Jake Solomons," he said. "There before youlies peace or war. Hand over the letters, and you'llhave the rhino. Refuse, and I guess and calculate I'llblow the whole top of your head off."
The clerk preferred peace, and Jake strode awaytriumphant.
When he returned to the hotel and told the boysthe story, they laughed heartily. In their eyes, Jakewas more a hero than ever.
"Ah!" said the giant quietly, "there's nothing bringsthese long-shore chaps sooner to their senses thanletting 'em have a squint down the barrel of a six-shooter."
The letters were all from Mr. St. Clair, and hadbeen lying at the post-office for over a week. Theyall related to business,
