The other boys followed Bob’s pointing finger. In the shadows of the thick jungle, they caught a sudden movement. A figure in khaki stepped from behind a tree.
“Mr. Hall!” Jupe yelled.
The man waited as the boys ran towards him.
“Hi,” Pete said. “We’ve been looking for you.”
The man looked at the boys questioningly. He was stocky and deep-chested, his faded safari shirt open at the throat. His light blue eyes contrasted vividly with the deep tan of his face. His nose was long and dented to one side. On his head was an old Aussie campaign hat, its wide brim folded over one ear.
As the boys came closer, he made an impatient movement with his hand. Something glinted.
Jupe and his friends stared down at the long, broad-bladed machete the man held carelessly at his side.
Jupiter spoke quickly. “We’re The Three Investigators, Mr. Hall. Didn’t Mr. Hitchcock tell you we were coming?”
The man blinked and looked surprised. “Oh, yes. Hitchcock. You say you’re the three investigators?”
“That’s right, Mr. Hall,” Jupe said. He reached into his pocket and produced a business card on which was printed:
“I’m Jupiter Jones. These are my partners, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews.”
“Nice to meet you, boys.” He took the card and studied it. “What are the question marks for?”
“The question marks stand for things unknown,” Jupiter explained. “For questions unanswered, riddles, enigmas. It’s our business to answer those questions, unravel the riddles, and find solutions for the enigmas. That’s why we’re here. Mr. Hitchcock told us about the trouble you’re having with your nervous lion.”
“Oh, he did?”
“Actually, he merely mentioned your lion was nervous. I imagine he expected you to fill in the details.”
The stocky man nodded, and slipped the card into his shirt pocket. He frowned and squinted into the distance. There was a trumpeting sound, almost immediately followed by an answering roar.
“Well,” he said smiling. “If you’re feeling up to it, we can go out and have a look at him.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” said Jupe.
“Fine. Let’s get moving then.”
Turning abruptly, he skirted the bunkhouse and followed a faint trail through the jungle. The boys fell into step behind him.
“Perhaps you can fill us in on the way, Mr. Hall,” Jupe said, dodging a thick vine.
The long machete flashed in the air. The vine parted as if it were paper. “What d’ya want to know?” the man asked, resuming his rapid pace.
Jupe struggled to stay close behind. “Well, for example, all we know is that your lion is nervous. That’s — well — rather unusual for a lion, isn’t it?”
The man nodded, walking fast and slashing at the undergrowth looming in their path. “Not usual, at all. Know anything about lions?”
Jupiter gulped. “No, sir. That’s why we’d like to know. It’s curious, isn’t it? I mean, this is a new development, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” the man said shortly. He held up his hand for silence. There were faint chattering sounds. Then came a booming roar. The man smiled. “Just up ahead,” he said. “That’s him out there.” He cocked his head at Jupiter. “I’ll leave it to you. Does he sound nervous?”
“I–I don’t know. It sounds like — well, a normal lion roar.” Jupe was determined to let Mr. Hall know he wasn’t the least bit nervous himself.
“That’s right,” the man said. He stopped for a moment, swishing his machete at the tall grass surrounding them. “Y’see, the lion is not a nervous animal, at all.”
“But —” Jupe started, perplexed.
The man nodded. “Unless,” he said, “unless somebody or something is making him that way. How does that strike you?”
The boys, together now, nodded.
“Sure, but what?” Bob asked.
The man shifted his position suddenly. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Something out there.”
Before they realised it, he had disappeared into the tall grass. They heard his footsteps, the swish of grass, and then suddenly nothing at all.
Somewhere overhead a bird screeched and they jumped nervously.
“Relax, fellows,” Pete said. “That was only a bird.”
“Only a bird!” Bob repeated. “Some bird! It sounded like a vulture.”
The boys waited for several minutes. Jupe glanced at his watch. “I’ve a funny feeling that vulture is trying to tell us something,” he said.
“Oh, come on, Jupe,” Bob protested. “Tell us what?”
Jupe’s face was pale. He licked his lips. “I have the feeling that Mr. Hall isn’t coming back. I think he’s arranged some kind of test for us — to see how we react to the danger of the jungle.”
“But why, Jupe?” asked Pete. “What would his reason be? We’re here to help him, aren’t we? He knows that.”
Jupe listened for a moment before answering. Strange calls came from high in the trees. Then once again they heard a deep, menacing roar.
Jupiter inclined his head in the direction of the last frightening sound. “I don’t know what Mr. Hall’s reason can be. But I know that lion out there sounds a lot closer than before. He seems to be coming this way. I think that’s what the vulture is telling us — that we’re the prey! They usually circle a dead or soon-to-be-dead animal. In this case, us!”
Pete and Bob stared at Jupe. They knew he wasn’t apt to joke in serious circumstances. Instinctively the three boys moved closer together.
They listened tensely.
They heard the swish of grass. Then footfalls, soft and stealthy.
Holding their breath, they edged closer to a large tree.
Then, almost directly behind them, they heard a blood-chilling sound — the roar of the lion!
“Quick!” Jupe whispered urgently. “Up this tree! It’s our only chance!”