strong," laughed Tad, "though we are not what you might call bad shots, especially in the case of Stacy Brown. Why he once shot Professor Zepplin's hat off and never touched a hair."

The fat boy flushed. Further teasing along this line was interrupted by the servants coming out with a pitcher of lemonade, which the boys drank sitting on the lawn in the shade of the trees. After a visit of half an hour, Billy Lilly said they had better be going if they were to make Tensas Bayou that night as they had planned to do, so bidding good-bye to their new-found friends, the lads rode away, waving their hats in response to the fluttering handkerchiefs of the Clowney family. Proceeding to the hotel, packs were lashed to the horses, and shortly after that a cloud of dust just outside the town marked the trail that the Pony Rider Boys were following on their way to the jungle.

CHAPTER III

IN CAMP ON TENSAS BAYOU

Darkness had fallen when the Pony Rider Boys party finally had picked their way through the outer edge of the jungle, and, despite the darkness, had continued on through the tropical growth, guided unerringly by Billy Lilly to the site he had chosen for their camp.

"Billy must belong to the owl family," was Tad Butler's comment as their guide rode confidently ahead, calling back directions to them.

Behind Lilly rode another and not unimportant member of the party. This was Ichabod. Ichabod was of the color of the night, black. He had been recommended by Major Clowney as a man who would be useful to them. Ichabod was as solemn and dignified as an African tribal chief. In fact, he was an excellent understudy for Stacy Brown when the latter was in his most dignified mood.

Ichabod could cook, could make and break camp and, what was almost as useful, he could handle the hunting dogs, and knew the canebrake fairly well, but Ichabod was afraid of snakes; that was his worst failing. One afraid of snakes had better keep out of the canebrake. The dozen hunting dogs that Lilly had brought with him were in charge of the colored man, who had handled them before and whom the dogs knew and liked.

"File left. Look out that you don't get into the water," called the guide. "Here we are. Make camp."

"I will go cut the firewood," said Tad.

"No, no," objected the guide. "I was speaking to Ichabod. You all remain on your horses until we get the fire going and I have beaten up the camp site."

"Why so?" questioned Butler.

"On account of the reptiles."

"Oh, fudge!" grunted Tad. The other boys laughed and slipped from their saddles.

"I guess you don't know my boys," objected the Professor, who, not to be outdone, descended from his saddle.

"As you wish. But remember, I am responsible for these young men," answered Billy.

"We are responsible for ourselves, sir, and we are not exactly tenderfeet, Mr. Lilly," said Tad. "If you will show me some firewood trees I will do as I suggested, get wood for the campfire."

"Leave that to me. You will have plenty of opportunity to work after we get settled to our trails. You will break your neck if you go to floundering about over the cypress knees."

The boys did not know what was meant by "cypress knees," and at that moment there were other matters to occupy their minds, so they did not ask. The boys began working away at their packs, loosening the cinches, piling the packs on the ground in an orderly manner born of long experience in the woods. They did not need a light to do this work. In fact, they could just as easily have pitched camp in the darkness as in the light. In this instance they did not do so, knowing that Lilly had definite plans as to where and how the camp should be made.

They soon heard the sound of the guide's axe. Ichabod was humming to himself, the dogs were barking and the horses neighing, while the Pony Rider Boys were shouting jokes at one another.

"Where is that fat boy?" called Rector, not having heard Chunky's voice during the last few minutes.

"I don't know. Stacy!" called the Professor.

Tad struck a match and holding it above his head glanced keenly about him. The light revealed Chunky sitting with his back against a tree, his head tilted back, mouth wide open, sound asleep. Tad had the fat boy by the collar instantly.

"Here, here! Whatcher want?" demanded Stacy rebelliously as he was roughly jerked to his feet.

"Don't you know better than to lie down in a place like this?" demanded Tad.

"Why not?"

"You don't know what there may be about here. Didn't you hear the guide say there were reptiles here?"

"Re—reptiles?"

"Yes."

"Oh-h-h, wow!"

"If you must sleep, try it standing up. Get on your horse and take a nap. That will be safer," advised Butler.

"I—I guess I don't want to go to sleep," stammered Stacy.

"I thought not. Here is some punk, if you want it, Mr. Lilly."

"How do you chance to have punk?"

"Oh, I frequently find it useful, especially in wet weather," answered Tad.

"I have some of the same in my kit, but it isn't available just now. There, that's better," nodded Billy.

A little crackling flame had leaped up flinging flickering shadows over the scene. The dogs were sitting about on their haunches regarding the proceedings expectantly, knowing that supper time would soon be at hand.

"Where shall we pitch your tent, Mr. Lilly?" asked Tad.

"I will take care of that. You may pitch your own if you wish. You know how and where better than I can tell you."

Tad did. He laid out the guide's tent so that the opening would be towards the fire, placing it as close to the fire as possible, almost too close it seemed.

"Why so close?" questioned Lilly, tugging at his long moustache.

"To catch some of the smoke from the campfire," replied Butler.

"For what?"

"To drive away mosquitoes. I hear there are a few here."

"You'll do," declared Lilly with an emphatic nod. "I guess you have been in the woods before."

The tents were arranged in a semicircle close about the fire that was now blazing higher and higher.

"Is there any danger of firing the forest here, Mr. Lilly?" asked Butler.

"No, not here. Everything is too damp. All this part of the forest is really a swamp. Wherever you find the cypress you will find moist ground."

"But where is the canebrake?" questioned Ned.

"On the ridges, the higher ground."

"Near here?"

"Within a few paces," answered the guide. "I will fetch some of it in to show you after we have had our supper. I guess you boys must be hungry, eh?"

"Hungry?" cried Stacy. "No, just empty, that's all."

Ichabod was already at work getting the supper, and tempting odors filled the air, with Stacy Brown squatting down with the dogs, greedily watching the preparations for the evening meal. While this was being done, Lilly was trampling down the brush, slashing the thorn bushes with his long bush knife, clearing away, so far as possible, all hiding places for trouble-hunting reptiles.

Smoking hot waffles were served to the hungry boys for supper. The voice of the fat boy under the influence of the waffles soon was stilled, his cheeks were puffed out and his eyes were rolling expressively. Chunky was very near to perfect happiness.

"The bayou is just back of the tents," warned Lilly. "Be careful that none of you falls into the water in the darkness. I should not advise much roaming about in the night until after you have become accustomed to this forest. You will find it far different from any you have ever visited before."

"I have observed as much," nodded the Professor. "But what are those peculiar formations that I see all about us?"

"Yes, I was wondering about them," said Tad.

"You mean the cypress knees?"

"Those long, crab-like formations standing up from the ground three or four feet," said the