"Monkeys!" cried Andy, smiling broadly. "Well, I declare I had
forgotten that they have them all through the tropical regions around
the Orinoco, the Magdalena and the Amazon. And so that's a menagerie
traveling over the treetops, is it? Wish I could just get a look."
"Well, I don't think they're far away," remarked his chum.
"Not for me. I know when I'm well off. This camp looks good enough,
without my wandering around in that awful place. Let 'em jabber, and the
yellow cats snarl; but Andy Bird stays right at his fireside tonight."
"And I guess you're right," said Frank, as more noises arose all around
them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
WHEN FRANK STOOD GUARD.
Pretty soon things began to look fairly cheerful in that lonely glade
situated in the heart of the tropical forest. A fine fire crackled and
shot up its red flames, lighting up the opening in which the young
aviators had so luckily alighted.
Andy was bending over the fire making a pot of coffee, for they had
brought along with them the necessary cooking utensils, including a
frying pan, not knowing how long they might be adrift in the wilderness,
far from the domicile of any human being.
"How do you find it?" he sang out, for his chum had been examining the
aeroplane as well as possible under the circumstances.
"Everything seems to be hunky-dory," came the reply.
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