"Snakes! Dozens of them," replied Donald. "Climb up, Strong, as
fast as you can."
"All right," came a feeble reply, followed almost immediately by
a louder call of "Help!"
"Hold fast," called Donald. "I'm coming."
But before he could turn to step down the ladder, a chattering
figure sprang past him and shot down the rope.
It was the ape. He had heard his master's call and had gone to
his assistance.
A moment later came a joyful cry that told as plainly as words
that Ambrosio had reached his master in time.
"Are you all right now?" called Donald.
"Yes. I'll be up in a minute. Good old boy," the last remark
evidently addressed to the ape.
When Strong's head appeared above the edge of the shaft a couple
of minutes later he was as pale as a ghost and when he at length
came into the full light of the torches, it was seen that his
hair was as white as snow. The fright had completely changed its
color.
"Let's get out of here," he gasped as soon as he was helped to
his feet. "I wouldn't go down into that place again for all the
gold and silver in the world."
"It was pretty rough for sure," admitted Donald. "I just caught a
glimpse as the torch fell among them, but it was so quickly
extinguished by the wriggling mass I only shot once for fear of
hitting you.
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