d the
Indian boatmen rapidly collected dead wood and started a fire, Shaddy
filling the tin kettle and swinging it gipsy fashion.

"I'd start fair at once, gentlemen," he said. "One never knows what's
going to happen, and I take it that you ought to carry your gun always
just as you would an umbrella at home, and have it well loaded at your
side, ready for any action. Plenty of smoke!" he continued, as the
clouds began to roll up through the dense branches of the tree overhead.

The result was a tremendous chattering and screaming amongst the
monkeys, which bounded excitedly from branch to branch, shaking the
twigs and breaking off dead pieces to throw down.

"Hi! stop that, little 'uns!" roared Shaddy. "Two can play at that
game. It ain't your tree; be off to another, or we'll make rabbit-pie
o' some on you."

Whether the little creatures understood or no, they chattered loudly for
a few moments more, and then, running to the end of a branch, which bent
beneath their weight, they dropped to the ground, and galloped off to
the next tree, each with his peculiar curling tail high in air.

The guide's advice was taken respecting the pieces, and, in addition to
his cartridge-pouch, each mounted a strong hunting-knife, one that,
while being handy for chopping wood or cutting a way through creepers
and tangling vines, would prove a formidable weapon of offence or
defence against the attack of any wild animal.

"That's your sort," said Shaddy, smiling as he saw Rob step out of the
boat with his piece under his arm. "Puts me in mind of handling my
first gun, when I was 'bout your age, sir, or a bit older. No, no,
don't carry it that way, my lad; keep your muzzle either right up or
right down."

"Well, that is down," said Rob pettishly, for he felt conscious, and
wanted to appear quite at ease, and as if he were in the habit of
carrying a rifle; consequently he looked as if he had never held one
before in his life.

"Ay, it's down enough to put a bullet in anybody's knees."

"No, it isn't, Shaddy, for it's a shot-gun, and has no bullet in it."

"I know, lad, one o' them useful guns with a left-hand bore as'll carry
a bullet if you like. More down. Wound close at hand from charge o'
shot's worse than one from a bullet."

"Because it makes so many wounds?" said Rob.

"Nay, my lad; because at close quarters it only makes one, and a big,
ragged one that's bad to heal. That's better. Now, if it goes off, it
t