CHAPTER XXVII.
A FIGHT WITH A WILD BEAST As Dick stepped out of the house, gun in hand, the form disappeared behind a small clump of bushes growing not fifty feet away.
"It's gone," he said to himself, but waited patiently, with his gun ready for use.
The clouds were increasing, making it darker than ever.

Almost holding his breath, the youth took several steps forward.

Then he waited again.
At last the form reappeared, crouched lower than ever, so that it was almost hidden by the rocks and low brushwood leading to the jungle.

At first Dick imagined the beast, or whatever it was, was going to retreat to the timber, but soon it appeared to turn back, as if to make another semicircle, this time around to the rear of the house.
It must be admitted that Dick's heart thumped madly in his breast.
The gun was raised and he kept his finger on the trigger.

But he did not dare to shoot until he was certain of the object of his aim.
"I don't want to kill anybody," he reasoned.