ish for
boy) and pointed to the hammock.

"That's yours," translated Charley's father, to Charley. "We men sleep
on those hides, I suppose."

While eating, Charley began to prickle, and shrugging his shoulders
politely scratched. His partners were doing the same, and Mr. Grigsby
laughed.

"Fleas!" he grunted. "That's all. Got to expect them. Otherwise
we're lucky."

Fleas? There were millions of them! They hopped even over the food;
but Charley was so hungry that he couldn't stop for that. He scratched
and ate.

Darkness descended early in the jungle. Maria and Francisco said that
they'd all start up-river again at daybreak, or five o'clock, so it
behooved the party to get to bed. Charley took one stroll, after
supper, into the village, sight-seeing. The village was a-riot with
noise. The natives were beginning a dance, to the light of torches, on
the grass, for the entertainment of the visitors. Tom-toms whanged,
flutes screeched, people cheered, and a number of the gold seekers were
acting like rowdies. It was a wild scene, amidst flaring torches; but
Charley thought best to beat a retreat to the safety of the hut.

With his clothes on he clambered into his hammock. His father and Mr.
Grigsby lay on the pile of hides. Where the family slept could not be
found out; Maria and Francisco slept in the boat, to guard the baggage.

Half the night the uproar in the village continued, but this did not
bother Charley as much as the fleas did. They accompanied him into his
hammock, and were busy every minute, it seemed to him. And judging by
the sounds from his father and Mr. Grigsby, there were fleas enough to
go around, with some to spare!

Charley thought that he had just fallen asleep, when he was awakened by
a tremendous roar. The hut was shaking, his hammock trembled, and the
world seemed ablaze. He half sat up, staring about him. Oh, a
thunder-storm! But what a storm! The storm that had caught him in the
boat aboard ship was only a shower, compared with this storm in the
tropical jungle. The rain was falling in a solid mass as if poured
from a gigantic bucket, while the red lightning blazed without a pause.
There was no wind; it was the weight of the water that made the hut
tremble--of rain drumming so steadily that even the thunder was
scarcely noticeable.

The interior of the hut was constantly light. He saw his father and
Mr. Grigsby also sitting up--and on the floor the water was r