a brisk pace.

There were traces of game in plenty, but they were unable to catch a
glimpse of anything that might give them a chance to exercise their
marksmanship. Of course, the trees were full of monkeys and parrots, but
they had no wish to kill merely for the sake of killing, and were
resolved to shoot nothing that they could not use as food.

No game made its appearance, and the boys were looking around for a site
on which they could pitch camp, when they were suddenly startled by a
distant shout.

"Help, help!" came the cry, evidently at some distance from them. In
spite of this, the three adventurers had no difficulty in recognizing the
note of terror in it, and after one look at each other started off at a
dead run in the direction of the cries. Running, tripping, stumbling,
picking themselves up and racing on again harder than ever, it was not
long before the shouts for help were appreciably nearer, and Bert, with
what breath was left him, shouted back. Tom and Dick followed suit, and
it became evident the person in distress, whoever it might be, had heard
them, for his shouts ceased.

Suddenly Bert, who was a little in advance of the others, pulled himself
up abruptly, and glanced down at the ground. "Easy there, fellows," he
cautioned, between gasps for breath. "It looks as though we'd struck the
edge of a bog, and now we'd better make haste slowly."

"You're right," exclaimed Dick, after they had taken a few cautious steps
forward. "It keeps getting softer and softer, and I think we'd better
look around for some path. We'll be bogged in another hundred feet."

"Well, we might as well let whoever it is we're going after know we're
still on the job," said Tom, and forthwith he gave vent to a whoop that
sent a cloud of wild birds soaring up from the reeds by which they were
now surrounded.

His shout was answered by another from the unknown, and Tom yelled,
"Don't give up, we'll get to you as soon as we can. What's the matter,
are you stuck in the swamp?"

"Yes," called the other, "and I'm getting deeper every minute. Follow
the edge of the swamp a few hundred yards toward the west, and you'll
find the path that I wandered from. But hurry up, or I'm a goner."

"All right," sang out Bert, and the three hurriedly skirted the bog in
the direction which its unfortunate victim had indicated. Sure enough,
in a few minutes they reached a spot where the reeds thinned out
considerably, and they co