CHAPTER XV
IN CULEBRA CUT
Joe sprang to his feet at the sound of his chum's voice. He hadcome ashore, after splashing around in the water, and, for themoment, Blake was alone in the river.
As Joe looked he saw a black, ugly snout, and back of it aglistening, black and knobby body, moving along after Blake, whowas making frantic efforts to get out of the way.
"I'm coming, Blake! I'm coming!" cried Joe, as he ran to the edgeof the stream, with the intention of plunging in.
"You will be too late," declared Mr. Alcando. "The alligator willhave him before you reach him. Oh, that I was a good swimmer, orthat I had a weapon."
But Joe did not stay to hear what he said. But one idea was in hismind, that of rescuing his chum from peril. That he might not bein time never occurred to him.
Blake gave a gurgling cry, threw up his hands, and disappearedfrom sight as Joe plunged in to go to his rescue.
"It's got him--the beast has him!" cried the Spaniard, excitedly.
"No, not yet. I guess maybe he sank: to fool the alligator," saidthe guide, an educated Indian named Ramo. "I wonder if I can stophim with one shot?" he went on, taking up a powerful rifle thathad been brought with the camp equipment.
Joe was swimming out with all his power, Blake was nowhere to beseen, and the alligator was in plain sight, heading for the spotwhere Blake had last been observed.
"It's my only chance!" muttered Ramo. "I hope the boy stays underwater."
As he spoke the guide raised the rifle, took quick but carefulaim, and fired. There was no puff of smoke, for the newhigh-powered, smokeless powder was used. Following the shot, therewas a commotion in the water. Amid a smother of foam, bright redshowed.
"You hit him, Ramo!" cried the Spaniard. "You hit him!"
"I guess I did," the Indian answered. "But where is Blake?"
That was what Joe was asking himself as he plunged on through thestream, using the Australian crawl stroke, which takes one throughthe water at such speed. Just what Joe could do when he reachedhis chum he did not stop to think. Certainly the two would havebeen no match for the big alligator.
But the monster had met his match in the steel-jacketedmushrooming bullet. It had struck true and after a death strugglethe horrid creature sank beneath the surface just as Blake shotup, having stayed under as long as he could.
"All right, Blake! Here you are! I'm with you!" cried Joe,changing his course to bring himself to his chum. "Are you allright?"
"Yes, except for this cramp. The alligator didn't get near enoughto do any damage. But where is he?"
"Ramo shot him," answered Joe, for he had seen the creature sinkto its death. "You're all right now. Put your hand on my shoulder,and I'll tow you in."
"Guess you'll have to. I can't seem to swim. I dived down when Isaw how near the beast was getting, thinking I might fool him. Ihated to come up, but I had to," Blake panted.
"Well, you're all right now," Joe assured him, "but it was a closecall. How did it happen?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Blake, still out of breath fromtrying to swim under water. "If I'd known there were alligators inthis river I'd never have gone so far from shore."
"That's right," agreed Joe, looking around as though to make sureno more of the creatures were in sight.
He saw none. On the shore stood Ramo, the guide, with ready rifle.
"Feel better now?" asked Joe.
"Yes, the cramp seems to be leaving me. I think I went in swimmingtoo soon after eating those plantains," for they had been givensome of the yellow bananas by a native when they stopped at hishut for some water. "They upset me," Blake explained. "I wasswimming about, waiting for you to come back and join me, when Isaw what I thought was a log in the water. When it headed for me Ithought it was funny, and then, when I saw what it was, I realizedI'd better be getting back to shore. I tried, but was taken with afierce cramp. You heard me just in time."
"Yes," responded Joe, as he and Blake reached water shallow enoughto wade in, "but if it hadn't been for Ramo's gun--well, theremight be a different story to tell."
"And one that wouldn't look nice in moving pictures," Blake wenton with a laugh. "You did me a good turn," he said to Ramo alittle later, as he shook hands with the dusky guide. "I shan'tforget it."
"Oh, it wasn't anything to pop over an alligator that way," Ramoreturned. "I've often done it for sport. Though I will admit I wasa bit nervous this time, for fear of hitting you."
"I wish I had been the one to shoot it," said the Spaniard.
"Why?" asked Joe, as he sat down on the warm sandy bank of thestream to rest.
"Why, then I should have repaid, in a small measure, the debt I amunder to you boys for saving my life. I shall never forget that."
"It wasn't anything," declared Blake quickly. "I mean, what we didfor you."
"It meant a great deal--to me," returned the Spaniard quietly, butwith considerable meaning in his tone. "Perhaps I shall soon beable to--but no matter. Are there many alligators in this stream?"he asked of Ramo.
"Oh, yes, more or less, just as there are in most of the Panamanrivers. But I never knew one to be so bold as to attack any one indaylight. Mostly they take dogs, pigs, or something like that.This must have been a big, hungry one."
"You'd have thought so if you were as close to him as I was,"spoke Blake with a little shudder.
No one else felt like going in swimming just then, and the twoboys dressed. Blake had fully recovered from the cramp that had sonearly been his undoing.
For a week longer they lived in the jungle, moving from place toplace, camping in different locations and enjoying as much as theycould the life in the wild. Blake and Joe made some good movingpicture films, Mr. Alcando helping them, for he was rapidlylearning how to work the cameras.
But the views, of course, were not as good as those the boys hadobtained when in the African jungle. These of the Panama wilds,however, were useful as showing the kind of country through whichthe Canal ran, and, as such, they were of value in the series offilms.
"Well, we'll soon be afloat again," remarked Blake, one night,when they had started back for Gamboa. "I've had about enoughjungle."
"And so have I," agreed Joe, for the last two days it had rained,and they were wet and miserable. They could get no pictures.
Their tug was waiting for them as arranged and, once more onboard, they resumed their trip through the Canal.
Soon after leaving Gamboa the vessel entered a part of thewaterway, on either side of which towered a high hill throughwhich had been dug a great gash.
"Culebra Cut!" cried Blake, as he saw, in the distance Gold Hill,the highest point. "We must get some pictures of this, Joe."
"That's right, so we must. Whew! It is a big cut all right!" hewent on. "No wonder they said it was harder work here than at theGatun Dam. And it's here where those big slides have been?"
"Yes, and there may be again," said Blake.
"I hope not!" exclaimed Captain Watson. "They are not onlydangerous, but they do terrible damage to the Canal and themachinery. We want no more slides."
"But some are predicted," Blake remarked.
"Yes, I know they say they come every so often. But now it wouldtake a pretty big one to do much damage. We have nearly tamedCulebra."
"If there came a big slide here it would block the Canal,"observed Mr. Alcando, speculatively.
"Yes, but what would cause a slide?" asked the captain.
"Dynamite could do it," was the low-voiced answer.
"Dynamite? Yes, but that is guarded against," the commander said."We are taking no chances. Now, boys, you get a good view ofCulebra," and he pointed ahead. Blake and Joe were soon busy withtheir cameras, making different sets of views.
"Hand me that other roll of film; will you, please?" asked Blakeof the Spaniard, who was helping them. "Mine is used up."
As Mr. Alcando passed over the box he muttered, though possibly hewas unaware of it:
"Yes, dynamite
here, or at the dam, would do the work."
"What--what's that?" cried Blake, in surprise.