Appleton, Victor – Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders

“Well, there is a wild beast smell all around here,” admitted Tom, sniffing the air. “It’s the alligators in the river I guess. You know they have an odor of musk.”

“Do you mean to say you didn’t feel that shadow flying over us just now?” asked Ned.

“Well, I felt something sail through the air, but I took it to be a big bird. I didn’t pay much attention. To tell you the truth I was thinking about Beecher — wondering when he would get here,” added Tom quickly as if to forestall any question as to whether or not his thoughts had

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to do with Beecher in connection with Tom’s affair of the heart.

“Well it wasn’t a bird — at least not a regular bird,” said Ned in a low voice, as once more he looked at the dark and gloomy jungle that stretched back from the river and behind the little clearing where the camp had been made.

“Come on!” cried Tom, in what he tried to make a cheerful voice. “This is getting on your nerves, Ned, and I didn’t know you had any. Let’s go back and turn in. I’m dog-tired and the mosquitoes are beginning to find that we’re here. Let’s get under the nets. Then the black shadows won’t get you.”

Not at all unwilling to leave so gloomy a scene, Ned, after a brief glance up and down the dark river, followed his chum. They found Professor Bumper and Mr. Damon in their tent, a separate one having been set up for the two men adjoining that of the youths.

“Bless my fountain pen!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, as he caught sight of Tom and Ned in the flickering light of the smudge fire between the two canvas shelters. “We were just wondering what had become of you.”