Ken Ward in the Jungle (Illustrated)

"What a change from the Arizona desert!"

The words broke from the lips of Ken Ward as he leaned from the window
of the train which was bearing his brother and himself over the plateau
to Tampico in Tamaulipas, the southeastern state of Mexico.  He had
caught sight of a river leaping out between heavily wooded slopes and
plunging down in the most beautiful waterfall he had ever seen.

"Look, Hal," he cried.

The first fall was a long white streak, ending in a dark pool; below
came cascade after cascade, fall after fall, some wide, others narrow,
and all white and green against the yellow rock.  Then the train curved
round a spur of the mountain, descended to a level, to be lost in a
luxuriance of jungle growth.

It was indeed a change for Ken Ward, young forester, pitcher of the
varsity nine at school, and hunter of lions in the Arizona cañons.  Here
he was entering the jungle of the tropics.  The rifles and the camp
outfit on the seat beside his brother Hal and himself spoke of coming
adventures.  Before them lay an unknown wilderness--the semi-tropical
jungle.  And the future was to show that the mystery of the jungle was
stranger even than their imaginings.

It was not love of adventure alone or interest in the strange new forest
growths that had drawn Ken to the jungle.  His uncle, the one who had
gotten Ken letters from the Forestry Department at Washington, had been
proud of Ken’s Arizona achievements. This uncle was a member of the
American Geographical Society and a fellow of the New York Museum of
Natural History.  He wanted Ken to try his hand at field work in the
jungle of Mexico, and if that was successful, then to explore the ruined
cities of wild Yucatan. If Ken made good as an explorer his reward was
to be a trip to Equatorial Africa after big game.  And of course that
trip meant opportunity to see England and France, and, what meant more
to Ken, a chance to see the great forests of Germany, where forestry had
been carried on for three hundred years.