“Oh, I’m all right. I’ve set off a lot of those big skyrockets. Say, they’re peaches! Did you see how they burst?” “I should say yes! One nearly went off before I was ready for it--too short a fuse. I got ready to run.” “That’s right. Here goes for one of those bombs! I’m glad we had these things with us.” “So am I!” For a time the chums could not speak to each other, though but a short distance apart, for the noise of the fireworks was almost deafening. The jungle was lighted up with the hues of many-colored fires, and the wild beasts were thrown into a panic by the unusual demonstration. There sounded the deep-voiced defiance of distant lions, which died away to be replaced by the shrill laughing-like sound of hyenas that were always hanging about, slinking around to see if they could not make a meal off what some stronger or more brave beast had killed. Then would come the chatter of monkeys disturbed at their slumbers, or the scolding of parrots or other birds of the dense forest. It was as though the morning sun had unexpectedly risen and called into life all the inhabitants of the jungle. Mr. Duncan came running up to where Joe and Blake were stationed, and, in the glare of a bursting rocket, they saw that his face was blackened with powder. “Have you seen her, Joe?” he gasped. “Did you get a sight of her?” “No, Dad,” replied the brother of the girl they had come so far to rescue. “Did you, Blake?” “No, Mr. Duncan. But it’s so dark, and we aren’t quite near enough to the camp yet. We’ll get her all right, never fear.” “Oh, boys, I can’t help being worried. It means so much to me. Think how I would feel if those natives--those Africans--should turn against her at this last minute and----” Mr. Duncan was so affected that he could not go on. “Now, Dad, you don’t want to think anything like that!” exclaimed Blake, heartily. “We’ll scare these fellows so they won’t know where they’re at. Come on here! Help Blake and me set off some of these fireworks. We’ve got more than we can handle!” and he thrust into his father’s hand a torch used to ignite the fuses. “That’s the way to talk to him!” said Blake, in a low voice. “Keep him occupied. Then he won’t think so much about your sister. I think she’s safe--don’t you, Joe?” “I hope so.” “Oh, she must be. Why, it was all quiet when we stole up, and we’ve been so busy ever since that they haven’t had time to rush off with her to another part of the jungle. They must think this is a shower of meteors, or something like that.” “I hope they do,” murmured Joe, as he brought up another rocket from the box where the supply was kept. The shooting of the pyrotechnics was kept up for some time longer. Then C. C. Piper, who had been industriously letting off bombs and Roman candles, seemed to beat his own energetic record. For there was a great burst of fire from where he had stationed himself, and then his voice was heard to call: “Help! Come here! I’m getting shot!”