The natives were getting supper, and Eradicate was busy with a meal for the three white hunters.  Mr. Damon had strolled down to the bank of a little stream, and was looking at some small animals like foxes that had come for their evening drink.  They seemed quite fearless.

Suddenly something long, round and thick seemed to drop down out of a tree close to the odd gentleman.  So swift and noiseless was it that Mr. Damon never noticed it.  Then, like a flash something went around him, and he let out a scream of terror.

San Pedro, who was nearest to him, saw and heard.  The next instant the black muleteer came rushing toward the camp, crying: 

“He is caught in a rope!  Mr. Damon is caught in a rope!”

“A rope!” repeated Ned. not understanding.

“Yes, a rope in a tree.  Come quickly!”

Tom caught up one of the electric rifles and rushed forward.  No sooner had he set eyes on his friend, who was writhing about in the folds of what looked like a big ship cable, then the young inventor cried: 

“A rope!  Yes, a living rope!  That’s a big boa constrictor that has Mr. Damon!  Get a gun, Ned, and follow me!  We must save him before he is crushed to death!”

And the two lads rushed forward while the living rope drew its folds tighter and tighter about the unfortunate man.

CHAPTER XII

A NATIVE BATTLE

“Bless my—!” but that was as far as poor Mr. Damon could get.  The breath was fairly squeezed out of him by the folds of the great serpent that had dropped down out of the tree to crush him to death.  His head fell forward on his breast, and his arms were pinioned to his sides.

“Quick, Ned!” cried Tom.  “We must fire together!  Be careful not to hit Mr. Damon!”

“That’s right.  I’ll take the snake on one side, Tom, and you on the other!”

“No!  Then we might hit each other.  Come on my side.  Aim for the head, and throw in the highest charge.  We want to kill, not stun!”

“Right!” gasped Ned, as he ran forward at his chum’s side.

San Pedro, and the other natives, could do nothing.  In the gathering twilight, broken by the light of several campfires, they stood helpless watching the two plucky youths advance to do battle with the serpent.  Eradicate had caught up a club, and had dashed forward to do what he could, but Tom motioned him back.

“We can manage,” spoke the young inventor.

Then he and Ned crept on with ready rifles.  The snake raised its ugly head and hissed, ceasing for a moment to constrict its coils about the unfortunate man.

“Now’s our chance—­fire!” hoarsely whispered Ned.

It seemed as if the big snake heard, for, raising its head still higher, it fairly glared at Ned and Tom.  It was the very chance they wanted, for they could now fire without the danger of hitting Mr. Damon.