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diff --git a/30324-0.txt b/30324-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..816196a --- /dev/null +++ b/30324-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8920 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30324 *** + +THE PATHLESS TRAIL + +by + +ARTHUR O. FRIEL + + + + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers + +Made in the United States of America + +THE PATHLESS TRAIL + +Copyright, 1922, by Harper & Brothers +Printed in the United States of America + + + + + TO + THE MEMORY OF + MY FATHER + GEORGE WILLIAM FRIEL + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. SONS OF THE NORTH + + II. AT SUNDOWN + + III. THE VOICE OF THE WILDS + + IV. THE GERMAN + + V. INTO THE BUSH + + VI. IN THE NIGHT WATCH + + VII. COLD STEEL + + VII. THE DOUBLE-CROSS + + IX. FIDDLERS THREE + + X. BY THE LIGHT OF STORM + + XI. OUT OF THE AIR + + XII. THE ARROW + + XIII. THE WAY OF THE JUNGLE + + XIV. A DUEL WITH DEATH + + XV. THE CANNIBALS + + XVI. BLACKBEARD + + XVII. FEVER + + XIX. FRUIT OF THE TRAP + + XIX. THE RED BONES + + XX. THE RAPOSA + + XXI. SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT + + XXII. THE SIREN OF WAR + + XXIII. STRATEGY + + XXIV. THE BATTLE OF THE TRIBES + + XXV. THE PASSING OF SCHWANDORF + + XXVI. PARTNERS + + + + +THE PATHLESS TRAIL + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +SONS OF THE NORTH + + +Three men stood ankle deep in mud on the shore of a jungle river, +silently watching a ribbon of smoke drift and dissolve above the somber +mass of trees to the northwest. + +Three men of widely different types they were, yet all cradled in the +same far-off northern land. The tallest, lean bodied but broad +shouldered, black of hair and gray of eye, held himself in soldierly +fashion and gazed unmoved. His two mates--one stocky, red faced and red +headed; the other slender, bronzed and blond--betrayed their thoughts in +their blue eyes. The red man squinted quizzically at the smoke feather +as if it mattered little to him where he was. The blond watched it with +the wistfulness of one who sees the last sign of his own world fade out. + +Behind them, at a respectful distance, a number of swarthy individuals +of both sexes in nondescript garments smoked and stared at the trio with +the interest always accorded strangers by the dwellers of the Out +Places. They eyed the uncompromising back of the tall one, the easy +lounge of the red one, the thoughtful attitude of the light one. The +copper-faced men peered at the rifles hanging in the right hands of the +newcomers, their knee boots, khaki clothing, and wide hats. The women +let their eyes rove over the boxes and bundles reposing in the mud +beside the three. + +"_Ingles?_" hazarded a woman, speaking through the stem of the black +pipe clutched in her filed teeth. + +"_Notre-Americano_," asserted a man, nodding toward the broad hats. +"Englishmen would wear the round helmets of pith." + +"_Mercadores?_ Traders?" suggested the woman, hopefully running an eye +again over the bundles. + +"_Exploradores_," the man corrected. "Explorers of the bush. Have you no +eyes? Do you not see the guns and high boots?" + +The woman subsided. The others continued what seemed to be their only +occupation--smoking. + +The smoke streamer in the north vanished. As if moved by the same +impulse, the three strangers turned their heads and looked +south-westward, upriver. The red-haired man spoke. + +"So we've lit at last, as the feller said when him and his airyplane +landed in a sewer. Faith, I dunno but he was better off than us, at +that--he wasn't two thousand miles from nowheres like we are. The +steamer's gone, and us three pore li'l' boys are left a long ways from +home." + +Then, assuming the tone of a showman, he went on: + +"Before ye, girls, ye see the well known Ja-va-ree River, which I never +seen before and comes from gosh-knows-where and ends in the Ammyzon. +Over there on t'other side the water is Peru. Yer feet are in the mud of +Brazil. This other river to yer left is the Tickywahoo--" + +"Tecuahy," the blond man corrected, grinning. + +"Yeah. And behind ye is the last town in the world and the place that +God forgot. What d'ye call this here, now, city?" + +"Remate de Males. Which means 'Culmination of Evils.'" + +"Yeah. It looks it. Wonder if it's anything like Hell's Kitchen, up in +li'l' old N'Yawk." + +They turned and looked dubiously at the town--a row of perhaps seventy +iron-walled and palm-roofed houses set on high palm-trunk poles, each +with its ladder dropping from the doorway to the one muddy street. Then +spoke the tall man. + +"Before you see it again, Tim, you'll think it's quite a town. Above +here is nothing but a few rubber estates, seven hundred miles of unknown +river, and empty jungle." + +"Empty, huh? Then they kidded us on the boat. From what they said it's +fair crawlin' with snakes and jaggers and lizards and bloody vampires +and spiders as big as yer fist. And the water is full o' man-eatin' fish +and the bush full o' man-eatin' Injuns. If that's what ye call empty, +Cap, don't take me no place where it's crowded." + +A slight smile twitched the set lips of the tall "cap." + +"They're all here, Tim, though maybe not so thick as you expect. Lots of +other things too. Who's this?" + +Through the knot of pipe-puffing idlers came a portly coppery man in +uniform. + +"Well, I'll be--Say, he's the same chap who came onto the boat in a +police uniform. Now he's in army rig," the light-haired member of the +trio exclaimed. "O Lordy! I've got it! He's the police force and the +army! The whole blooming works! Ha!" + +Tim snickered and stepped forward. + +"Hullo, buddy!" he greeted. "What's on yer mind?" + +"_Boa dia_, senhor," responded the official, affably. With the words he +deftly slipped an arm around Tim's waist and lifted the other hand +toward his shoulder. But that hand stopped short, then flew wildly out +into the air. + +Tim gave a grunt and a heave. The official went skidding and slithering +six feet through the mud, clutching at nothing and contorting himself in +a frantic effort to keep from sprawling in the muck. By a margin thin as +an eyelash he succeeded in preserving his balance and stood where he +stopped, amazement and anger in his face. + +"Lay off that stuff!" growled Tim, head forward and jaw out. "If ye want +trouble come and git it like a man, not sneak up with a grin and then +clinch. Don't reach for no knife, now, or I'll drill ye--" + +"Tim!" barked the black-haired one. "Ten-_shun_!" + +Automatically Tim's head snapped erect and his shoulders went back. He +relaxed again almost at once. But in the meantime the tall man had +stepped forward and faced the raging representative of the government of +Brazil. + +"Pardon, comrade," he said with an engaging smile. "My friend is a +stranger to Brazil and not acquainted with your manner of welcome. In +our own country men never put the arm around one another except in +combat. He has been a soldier. You are a soldier. So you can understand +that a fighting man may be a little abrupt when he does not understand." + +The smile, the apology, and most of all the subtle flattery of being +treated as an equal by a man whose manner betokened the North American +army officer, mollified the aggrieved official at once. The hot gleam +died out of his eyes. Punctiliously he saluted. The salute was as +punctiliously returned. + +"It is forgotten, Capitao. As the capitao says, we soldiers are +sometimes overquick. I come to give you welcome to Remate de Males. My +services are at your disposal." + +"We thank you. Why do you call me capitao?" + +"My eyes know a capitao when they see him." + +"But this is not a military expedition, my friend. Nor are any of us +soldiers now--though we all have been." + +"Once a capitao, always a capitao," the Brazilian insisted. Then he +hinted: "If the capitao and his friends wish to call upon the +superintendente they will find him in the intendencia, the blue building +beyond the hotel. It will soon be closed for the day." + +The tall American's keen gray eyes roved down the street to the +weather-beaten house whose peeling walls once might have been blue. He +nodded shortly. + +"Better go down there," he said. "Come on, Merry. Tim, stick here and +keep an eye on the stuff. And don't start another war while we're gone." + +"Right, Cap." Tim deftly swung his rifle to his right shoulder. "I'll +walk me post in a military manner, keepin' always on the alert and +observin' everything that takes place within sight or hearin', accordin' +to Gin'ral Order Number Two. There won't be no war unless somebody +starts somethin'. Hey, there, buddy, would ye smoke a God's-country +cigarette if I give ye one?" + +"_Si_," grinned the soldier-policeman, all animosity gone. And as the +other two men tramped away through the mud they also grinned, looking +back at the North and the South American pacing side by side in +sentry-go, blowing smoke and conversing like brothers in arms. + +"Tim likes to remember his 'general orders,' but he's forgotten Number +Five," laughed the blond man. + +"Five? 'To talk to no one except in line of duty.' Don't need it here, +Merry." + +"Nope. The _entente cordiale_ is the thing. Here's hoping nobody makes +Tim remember his 'Gin'ral Order Number Thirteen' while we're gone, Rod." + +He of the black hair smiled again as his mate, mimicking Tim's gruff +voice, quoted: + +"'Gin'ral Order Number Thirteen: In case o' doubt, bust the other guy +quick.'" + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AT SUNDOWN + + +Past the loungers in the street, past others in the doorways, past +children and dogs and goats, the pair marched briskly to the faded blue +house whence the federal superintendent ruled the town with tropic +indolence. There they found a thin, fever-worn, gravely courteous +gentleman awaiting them. + +"Sit, senhores," he urged, with a languid wave of the hand toward +chairs. "I am honored by your visit, as is all Remate de Males. In what +way can I serve you?" + +The blond answered: + +"We have come, sir, both for the pleasure of making your acquaintance +and for a little information. First permit me to introduce my friend Mr. +Roderick McKay, lately a captain in the United States army. I am +Meredith Knowlton. There is a third member of our party, Mr. Timothy +Ryan, who remained on the river bank to talk with--er--a soldier of +Brazil." + +The federal official nodded, a slight smile in his eyes. + +"We are here ostensibly for exploration," Knowlton continued, candidly, +"but actually to find a certain man. I think it quite probable that we +shall have to do considerable exploring before finding him." + +"Ah," the other murmured, shrewdly. "It is a matter of police work, +perhaps?" + +"No--and yes. The man we seek is not wanted by the law, and yet he is. +He has committed no crime, and so cannot be arrested. But the law wants +him badly because the settlement of a certain big estate hinges upon the +question of whether he is alive or dead. If alive, he is heir to more +than a million. If not--the money goes elsewhere." + +"Ah," repeated the official, thoughtfully. + +"I might add," McKay broke in with a touch of stiffness, "that neither I +nor either of my companions would profit in any way by this man's death. +Quite the contrary." + +"Ah," reiterated the other, his face clearing. "You are commissioned, +perhaps, to find and produce this man." + +"Exactly," Knowlton nodded. "From our own financial standpoint he is +worth much more alive than dead. On the other hand, any absolute proof +of his death--proof which would stand in a court of law--is worth +something also. Our task is to produce either the man himself or +indisputable proof that he no longer lives. + +"The man's name is David Dawson Rand. If alive, he now is thirty-three +years old. Height five feet nine. Weight about one hundred sixty. Hair +dark, though not black. Eyes grayish green. Chief distinguishing marks +are the green eyes, a broken nose--caused by being struck in the face by +a baseball--and a patch of snow-white hair the size of a thumb ball, two +inches above the left ear. Accustomed to having his own way, not at all +considerate of others. Yet not a bad fellow as men go--merely a man +spoiled by too much mothering in boyhood and by the fact that he never +had to work. This is he." + +From a breast pocket he drew a small grain-leather notebook, from which +he extracted an unmounted photograph. The superintendent looked into the +pictured face of a full-cheeked, wide-mouthed, square-jawed man with a +slightly blasé expression and a half-cynical smile. After studying it a +minute he nodded and handed it back. + +"As you say, senhor, a man who never has had to work." + +"Exactly. For five years this man has been regarded as dead. It was his +habit to start off suddenly for any place where his whims drew him, +notifying nobody of his departure. But a few days later he would always +write, cable, or telegraph his relatives, so that his general +whereabouts would soon become known. On his last trip he sent a radio +message from a steamer, out at sea, saying he was bound for Rio Janeiro. +That was the last ever heard from him." + +"Rio is far from here," suggested the Brazilian. + +"Just so. We look for Rand at the headwaters of the Amazon, instead of +in Rio, because Rio yields no clew and because of one other thing which +I shall speak of presently. + +"It has been learned that he reached Rio safely, but there his trail +ended. As he had several thousand dollars on his person, it was +concluded that he was murdered for his money and his body disposed of. +This belief has been held until quite recently, when a new book of +travel was published--_The Mother of Waters_, by Dwight Dexter, an +explorer of considerable reputation." + +The Brazilian's brows lifted. + +"Senhor Dexter? I remember Senhor Dexter. He stopped here for a short +time, ill with fever. So he has published a book?" + +"Yes. It deals mainly with his travels and observations in Peru, along +the Marañon, Huallaga, and Ucayali. But it includes a short chapter +regarding the Javary, and in that chapter occurs the following, which I +have copied verbatim." + +From the notebook he read: + +"'It falls to the lot of the explorer at times to meet not only hitherto +unclassified species of fauna and flora, but also strange specimens of +the _genus homo_. Such a creature came suddenly upon my camp one day +just before a serious and well-nigh fatal attack of fever compelled me +to relinquish my intention to proceed farther up the Javary. + +"'While my Indian cook was preparing the afternoon meal, out from the +dense jungle strode a bearded, shaggy-haired, painted white man, totally +nude save for a narrow breechclout and a quiver containing several long +hunting arrows. In one hand he carried a strong bow of really excellent +workmanship. This was his only weapon. He wore no ornament, unless +streaks of brilliant red paint be considered ornaments. He was wild and +savage in appearance and manner as any cannibal Indian. Yet he was +indubitably white. + +"'To my somewhat startled greeting he made no response. Neither did he +speak at any time during his unceremonious visit. Bolt upright, he stood +beside my crude table until the Indian stolidly brought in my food. +Then, without a by-your-leave, the wild man rapidly wolfed down the +entire meal, feeding himself with one hand and holding his bow ready in +the other. Though I questioned him and sought to draw him into +conversation, he honored me with not so much as a grunt or a gesture. +When the table was bare he stalked out again and vanished into the dim +forest. + +"'After he had gone my Indian urged that we leave the place at once. The +man, he said, was "The Raposa"--a word which denotes a species of wild +dog sometimes found on the upper Amazon. He knew nothing of this +"Raposa" except that he apparently belonged to a wild tribe living far +back in the forest, perhaps allied with the cannibal Mayorunas, who were +very fierce; and that he appeared sometimes at Indian settlements, +where, without ever speaking, he would help himself to the best food and +then leave. My man seemed to fear that now some great misfortune would +come to us unless we shifted our base. When the fever came upon me soon +afterward, the superstitious fellow was convinced that the illness was +attributable directly to the visit of the human "wild dog." + +"'Aside from the nudity and barbarism of the mysterious stranger, +certain personal peculiarities struck me. One was that his eyes were +green. Another was a streak of snow-white hair above one ear. +Furthermore, the red paint on his body outlined his skeleton. His ribs, +spine, arm- and leg-bones all were portrayed on his tanned skin by those +brilliant red streaks. In this connection my Indian asserted that in the +tribe to which "The Raposa" probably belonged it was the custom to +preserve the bones of the dead and to paint them with this same red dye, +after which the bones were hung up in the huts of the deceased instead +of being given burial. Beyond this my informant knew nothing of the "Red +Bone" people, except that to enter their country was death.'" + +Knowlton returned the book to his pocket and carefully buttoned the +flap. + +"When that appeared," he continued, "efforts were made to get hold of +Dexter, with the idea of showing him the photograph of the missing man +and learning any additional details. Unfortunately, by the time the book +was published Dexter had gone to Africa to seek a race of dwarfs said to +exist in the Igidi Desert, and thus was totally out of reach. Then we +were called upon to follow up this clew and find the Raposa if possible. +Men with green eyes and patches of white hair above one ear are not +common. So, though our knowledge of this strange wild man is confined to +those few words of Dexter's, we are here to learn more of him and to get +him if we can." + +He looked expectantly at the official. The latter, after staring out +through the doorway for a time, shook his head slightly. + +"Something of this Raposa and of those red-streaked people has come to +my ears, senhores, but only as rumors," he said, slowly. "And one does +not place great faith in rumors. Yet I have repeatedly been surprised to +learn, after dismissing a story as an empty Indian tale, that the tale +was true. + +"Of the Mayorunas more is known. They are eaters of human flesh, +inhabiting both sides of the Javary, deadly when angered, and very +easily angered. Their country is not many days distant from here, but as +they never attack us we do not attack them. It is an armed neutrality, +as you senhores would say. True, we have to be careful in drinking +water, for they sometimes poison the streams against real or imaginary +enemies, and the poisoned waters flow down to us, causing those who +drink it to die of a fever like the typhoid. Yet," and he smiled, "there +is a saying, is there not, that water is made not to drink, but to bathe +in?" + +Knowlton laughed. McKay's eyes twinkled. + +"I'm sorry to say that water's about all a fellow can get to drink in +the States now," the blond man said, ruefully. "That is, of course, +unless a man knows where to go." + +"_Si._ It is a pity. But here in Brazil one need not drink water unless +he wishes, and often it is better not to. Of the Mayorunas, senhor--you +do not intend to go among them, seeking this wild man of the red bones? +If you should do so it would be a matter of regret to me." + +"Meaning that we should not come out again? That's a risk we have to +face. We go wherever it is necessary." + +"I am sorry. I regret also that I can give you no definite information. +Yet I wish you all success, senhores, and a safe return. This much I can +do and gladly will do: I can send word to another white man who now is +in the town and who knows much of the upper river. He may be able to +assist you, and without doubt will be eager to do so. He is staying at +the hotel, just below here--Senhor Schwandorf." + +The eyes of the two Americans narrowed. The official coughed. + +"Senhor McKay has been a soldier. And Senhor Knowlton--" + +"I was a lieutenant." + +"Ah! But the war has passed, senhores. Senhor Schwandorf was not a +soldier of Germany--he has been in Brazil for more than six years." + +"War's over. That's right," McKay agreed. "But don't bother to send +word. We'll find him if he's at the hotel. Going there ourselves. Glad +to have met you, sir. Good luck!" + +"And to you also luck, Capitao and Tenente," smiled the official. McKay +and Knowlton strode out. + +"Guess this is the hotel," hazarded McKay, glancing at a house which +rose slightly above the others. "I'll go in and charter rooms. You get +Tim and have somebody rustle our impedimenta up here." + +He turned aside. Knowlton trudged on through the glare of sunset to the +river bank where Tim and the army of Remate de Males still loafed up and +down, the admired of all beholders. + +"All right, Tim. We're moving to the hotel. No more war, I see." + +"Lord love ye, no," grinned Tim. "Me and this feller are gittin' on +fine. He's Joey--I forgit the rest of his names; he's got about a dozen +more and they sound like stones rattlin' around inside a can. But Joey's +a right guy. After me tour o' duty ends he's goin' to buy me a drink and +maybe introjuce me to a lady friend o' his. Want to join the party, +Looey?" + +"Not unless the ladies are better looking than these," laughed the +ex-lieutenant, moving his head toward the pipe-smoking females. + +"Faith, I was thinkin' that same meself. Unless he can dig up somethin' +fancier 'n what I see so far, I'd as soon have Mademoiselle." + +"Who?" + +"Mademoiselle of Armentières. Sure, ye know that one, Looey. Goes to the +tune o' 'Parley-Voo.'" + +Wherewith he lifted up a foghorn voice and, much to the edification of +"Joey" (whose name really was Joao) and the rest of Remate de Males, +burst into song: + + "Mademoiselle of Armenteers, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + She smoked our butts and bummed our beers, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + She had cockeyes and jackass ears + And she hadn't been kissed for forty years, + Rinkydinky-parley-voo!" + +As his musical effort ended, out from the dense jungle hemming in the +town burst a hideous roaring howl. Again and again it sounded in a +horrible crash of noise. + +"Holy Saint Pat!" gasped Tim, throwing his rifle to port and bracing his +feet. "Now look what I went and done! Is that the echo, or a couple +dozen jaggers all fightin' to oncet?" + +"Guariba, Senhor Ree-ann," snickered Joao. "Not jaguars--no. Only one +little guariba monkey. The howler." + +"G'wan! Ye're kiddin'!" + +"But no, _amigo_. It is as I tell you. One monkey. It is sunset, and the +jungle awakes." + +"My gosh! I'll say it does. Sounds like a Sat'day night row in a Second +Av'noo saloon, except there ain't no shootin'. Guess you boys have some +night life, too, even if ye are away back in the bush." + +"Time for us to move, Tim," laughed Knowlton. "It'll be dark in no time. +Joao, will you have our baggage moved to the hotel?" + +"_Si_, senhor. _Immediatamente._ Antonio--Jorge--Rosario! And you, too, +Meldo--_vem cà_! Carry the bundles of the gentlemen to the hotel, +presto! Proceed, senhores. I, Joao d'Almeida Magalhaes Nabuco Pestana da +Fonseca, will remain here on guard until all your possessions have been +transported. Proceed without fear." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE VOICE OF THE WILDS + + +McKay, eyes twinkling again, awaited them at the top of the hotel's +street ladder. + +"Rooms any good, Rod?" hailed Knowlton. + +"Best in the house, Merry." + +"See any insects in the beds?" + +"Nary a bug--in the beds." The twinkle grew. "Didn't look in the bureaus +or behind the mirrors. Come look 'em over." + +Entering a sizable room evidently used for dining--for its chief +articles of furniture were two tables made from planed palm +trunks--McKay waved a hand toward a row of four doorways on the right. + +"First three are ours," he explained. "Only vacancies here. Eight rooms +in this hotel--the other four over there." He pointed across the room, +on the other side of which opened four similar doors. "They're occupied +by two sick men, one drunk--hear him snore?--and one she-goat which is +kidding." + +"Huh?" Tim snorted, suspiciously. "I think ye're the one that's kiddin', +Cap." + +"Not a bit. I looked. The last room on this side is the Dutchman's, and +these are ours. Take your pick. They're all alike." + +Knowlton stepped to the nearest and looked in. For a moment he said no +word. Then he softly muttered: + +"Well, I'll be spread-eagled!" + +"Me, too," seconded Tim, who had been craning his neck. + +The room was absolutely empty. No bed, no chair, no bureau, no +rug--nothing at all was in it except two iron hooks. Its floor consisted +of split palm logs, round side up, between which opened inch-wide +spaces. Its walls were rusty corrugated iron, guiltless of mirrors or +pictures, which did not reach to the roof. + +"Observe the excellent ventilation," grinned McKay. "Wind blows up +through the floor--if there is any wind--and then loops over the +partition into the next fellow's room." + +"Yeah. And I'll say any guy that drops his collar button is out o' luck. +It goes plunk into the mud, seven foot down under the house. But say, +Cap, how the heck do we sleep? Hang ourselves up on them hooks?" + +"Exactly." + +"Kind o' rough on a feller's shirt, ain't it? And the shirt would likely +pull off over yer head before mornin'." + +"Yes, probably would. But the secret is this--you're supposed to hang +your hammock on those hooks. You provide the hammock. The hotel provides +the hooks. What more can you ask of a modern hotel?" + +"Huh! And if a guy wants a bath, there's the river, all full o' 'gators +and cattawampuses and things. And if ye eat, I s'pose ye rustle yer own +grub and pay for eatin' it off that slab table there. There's jest one +thing ye can say for this dump--a feller can spit on the floor. But with +all them cracks in it he might not hit it, at that. Mother of mine! To +think Missus Ryan's li'l' boy should ever git caught stayin' in a hole +like this, along o' drunks and skiddin' she-goats and--did ye say a +Dutchman?" + +"German. Chap named Schwandorf." + +"Yeah?" Tim's tone was sinister. "Say, Cap, gimme the room next that +guy. And if ye hear anybody yowlin' before mornin' don't git worried. It +won't be me." + +"None of that, Tim," warned Knowlton. "The war's over--" + +"Since when? There wasn't no peace treaty signed when we left the +States." + +"Er--ahum! Well, technically you're right. But this fellow may be useful +to us. He knows the upper river, they say." + +"Aw, well, if ye can use him I'll lay off him. Where is he?" + +"Out somewhere," answered McKay. "I haven't seen him yet. Want this +first room, Merry?" + +"Just to play safe, I'll take the one next the German. And if I hear any +war in the night, Tim, I'm coming over the top with both hands going." + +"Grrrumph!" growled Tim. + +"That goes, Tim," warned McKay. "I'll take this room and you can have +the one between us. Here comes the baggage train with our stuff. In +here, men!" + +Puffing and grunting, Antonio and Jorge and Rosario and Meldo shuffled +in with the boxes and bundles. Under the directions of McKay and +Knowlton, these were stowed in the bare rooms. Then the four shuffled +out again, grinning happily over a small roll of Brazilian paper reis +which McKay had peeled from a much larger roll and handed to them. +Immediately following their departure, in came a youth carrying three +new hammocks. + +"Our beds," McKay explained. "I sent this lad to a trader's store for +them. He's the proprietor's son. Thank you, Thomaz. Tell your father to +put these on our bill, and take for yourself this small token of our +appreciation." + +More reis changed hands. The young Brazilian, with a flash of teeth, +informed them that the evening meal would soon be ready and disappeared +through a rear door. + +"Do they really feed us at this here, now, hotel?" Tim demanded. "Then +the goat's safe." + +"Meaning?" puzzled Knowlton. + +"Meanin' I didn't know but we had to kill our supper, and I was goin' to +git the cap'n's goat. That is, the goat the cap'n's kiddin'--I mean the +goat that's kiddin' the cap--the skiddin' she-goat--Aw, rats! ye know +what I'm drivin' at. Me tongue so dry it don't work right." + +Wherewith Tim retreated in disorder to his room and began wrestling with +his new hammock and the iron hooks. + +Swift darkness filled the rooms. The sun had slid down below the bulge +of the fast-rolling world. Thomaz re-entered, lit candles stuck in empty +bottles, and, with a bow, placed one of these crude illuminants at the +door of each of the strangers. By the flickering lights McKay and +Knowlton disposed their effects according to their individual desires, +bearing in mind Tim's observation that any small article dropped on the +floor would land in the mud under the house, whence sounded the grunts +of pigs. Their work was soon completed, and they sauntered together to +the small piazza. + +"Nice quiet little place," commented Knowlton. "Make a good sanitarium +for nervous folks." + +The comment was made in a tone which, in the daytime, would carry half a +mile. McKay nodded to save a similar effort. The outbreak of the howling +monkey which so startled Tim had been only the first note of the night +concert of the jungle. Now that the sun was gone the chorus was in full +swing. + +Beasts of the village, the jungle, the river, all hurled their voices +into the uproar. From the gloom around the houses rose the bellowing of +cows and calves, the howls and yelps of dogs, the yowling of cats, the +grunts and squeals of hogs. In the black river, flowing past within a +stone's throw of the hotel door, sounded the loud snorts of dolphins and +the hideous night call of the foul beast of the mud--the alligator. Out +from the matted tangle of trees and brush and great snakelike vines +behind the town rolled the appalling roars of guaribas, raucous bird +calls, dismal hoots, sudden scattered screams. And over all, whelming +all other sound by the sheer might of its penetrating power, throbbed +the rapid-fire hammering of millions of frogs. + +"Frogs sound like a machine-gun barrage," the blond man added. + +"Or thousands of riveting hammers pounding steel." + +"Queer how much worse it is when you're right in it. We've heard it all +the way up two thousand miles of Amazon, but--" + +"But you're right beside the orchestra now. Position is everything in +life." + +The double-edged jest made Knowlton glance sidelong at his mate. Of the +tall, eagle-faced Scot's past he knew little beyond what he had seen of +him in war, where he had met him and learned to respect him +whole-heartedly. From occasional remarks he had learned that McKay had +been in all sorts of places between Buenos Aires and Nome; and from a +few intangible hints he suspected that his "position in life" had once +been much higher socially than at present. But he asked no questions. + +"Some orchestra, all right," he responded, casually. "Plenty of jazz. +It'll quiet down after a while." + +For a time they stood leaning against the wall, staring abstractedly out +at the dark. One by one the domestic animals ceased their clamor and +settled themselves for the night. The jungle din, too, seemed to +diminish, though perhaps this was because the ears of the men had become +accustomed to it. At length through the discordant symphony boomed the +voice of Tim. + +"By cripes! I know now what folks mean when they talk about a howlin' +wilderness. Always thought 'twas one o' them figgers o' speech, but I'll +tell the world it ain't no joke! Gosh! Think of all the things that's +layin' out there and bellerin' and waitin' for us pore li'l' fellers to +come in amongst 'em and git et up." + +"You'll find the same things in the cities up home," said Knowlton, a +bit cynically. "Different bodies and different methods of attack, but +the same merciless animals under the skin. Snakes in silk +suits--foul-mouthed alligators in dinner jackets--hunting-cats and +vampires, painted and powdered--and all the rest of it." + +"Yeah. Ye said a mouthful, Looey. But say, Tommy's shovin' some grub on +the table. Mebbe we better hop to it before the flies git it all." + +After a glance at the vicious attack already begun by the aforesaid +flies, the pair adopted Tim's suggestion and hopped to it. Manfully they +assailed the rubbery jerked beef, black beans, rice, farinha, and thick, +black, unsweetened coffee which comprised the meal. All three were +wrestling with chunks of the meat when Tim, facing the door, stopped +chewing long enough to mutter: + +"Dutchland overalls. Here's the goose stepper." + +The heads of the other two involuntarily moved a little. Then their +necks stiffened and they continued eating. Tim alone stared straight at +a burly, black-whiskered Teuton who had halted in the outer doorway. And +Tim alone saw the ugly look crossing the newcomer's visage as he gazed +at the khaki shirts, the broad shoulders under them, and the +unmistakably Irish--and hostile--face of Tim himself. + +Catching the hard stare of the red-haired man, he of the black beard +advanced at once, his eyes veering to the door of his own room. Straight +to that room he marched with heavy tread. He opened the door with a +kick, shut it behind him with a slam. The three at the table glanced at +one another. + +"Say what ye like," grumbled Tim, "but me and that guy don't hold no +mush party. I don't like his map. I don't like his manners. And he looks +too much like the Fritz that shot me in the back with a kamerad gun +after surrenderin'. I was in hospital three months. D'ye mind that time, +Looey?" + +Knowlton nodded. He remembered also that Tim, shot down from behind and +almost killed, had reeled up to his feet and bayoneted his man before +falling the second time. Wherefore he replied: + +"He isn't the same one, Tim." + +"Nope," grimly. "That one won't never come back. All the same, if you +gents want to chew the fat with this feller I'm goin' slummin' with me +friend Joey Mouthgargle Nabisco Whoozis. Then I won't be round here to +make no sour-caustic remarks and gum up yer party." + +"Might be a good idea," McKay conceded. + +"There he is now, the li'l' darlin'! Hullo, Joey, old sock! Stick around +a minute while I scoop a few more beans. Be with ye toot +sweet--vite--presto--P.D.Q." + +Wherewith he demolished the rest of his meal with military dispatch, +proceeded doorward, smote the grinning army of Remate de Males a buffet +on the shoulder, and vanished into the night. A moment later his +stentorian voice rolled back through the nocturnal racket in an +impromptu paraphrase of an old and highly improper army song: + + "We're in the jungle now, + We ain't behind the plow; + We'll never git rich, + We'll die with the itch. + We're in the jungle now!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE GERMAN + + +The door of the German's room opened. The German came out and marched to +the table. Two paces away he halted and faced the Americans, ready to +speak if spoken to, equally ready to sit and ignore them if not greeted. +McKay and Knowlton rose. + +"Herr von Schwandorf?" inquired Knowlton. + +"Schwandorf. Neither Herr nor von. Plain Schwandorf." + +The reply came in excellent English, though with a slight throaty +accent. + +"Knowlton is my name. Mr. McKay. The third member of our party, Mr. +Ryan, has just left." + +Schwandorf bowed stiffly from the waist. + +"It is a pleasure to meet you. White men are all too few here." + +Seating himself at a place beyond that just vacated by Tim, he +continued, "You stay here for a time?" + +"Not long." They reseated themselves. "We go up the river as soon as we +can arrange transportation." + +The black brows lifted slightly. + +"It is a dangerous river. You would do well to travel elsewhere unless +you have some pressing reason to explore this stream." + +With an accustomed sweep of the hand he shooed the flies from the bean +dish and helped himself to a big portion. Over the legumes he poured +farinha in the Brazilian fashion. + +"We have. We are seeking a tribe of people who paint their bones red." + +Schwandorf's hand, conveying the first mouthful of beans upward, stopped +in air. His black eyes fixed the Americans with an astounded stare. He +lowered the beans, stabbed absently at a chunk of beef, sawed it apart, +popped a piece of it into his mouth, and sat for a time chewing. When +the meat was down he spoke bluntly: + +"Are there not ways enough to kill yourselves at home instead of +traveling to this place to do it?" + +McKay smiled. The directness of the man amused him. + +"As bad as that?" asked Knowlton. + +"As bad as that. Blow your head off if you like. Cut your throat. Take +poison. Jump into the river among the alligators. Step on a snake. But +keep away from the Red Bones." + +"Why?" shot McKay. + +"Cannibals--and worse." + +"Worse?" + +"Truly. Most of the Brazilian savages do not torture. The Red Bones do." + +"Pleasant prospect." + +"Very. Nothing to be gained among them, either. If you're hunting gold, +try the hills over west of the Huallaga. None here." + +Knowlton filled and lit a pipe. McKay slowly drank the last of his +syrupy coffee and rolled a cigarette. Schwandorf continued shoveling +food into his capacious mouth. + +"Know anything about the Raposa?" Knowlton asked. + +The Teuton's eyelashes flickered. He ground another chunk of meat +between his jaws before answering. + +"Of course," he said then. "Wild dog. Sharp snout, gray hair, bushy +tail. I've shot a couple of them." + +"This one is a man. Green eyes, streak of white hair over the left ear. +Paints himself like the Red Bones, as you call them, but is a white +man." + +"Oh! That one? Heard of him, yes. Wild man of the jungle. Want to catch +him and put him in a circus?" + +"Maybe. We'd like to see him, anyhow. Heard about him awhile ago. Any +way to get him that you know of?" + +"Might try a steel trap," the German suggested, callously. "But I don't +know where you'd set it. Best way to get a wild dog is to shoot him, and +he isn't much good dead. Or would this one be worth something--dead?" A +swift sidelong glance accompanied the question. + +"Not a cent!" snapped McKay. + +"And perhaps he'd be worth nothing alive," added Knowlton. "But we have +a healthy curiosity to look him over. Guess the Red Bone country would +be the likeliest place. How far is it from here?" + +"Keep out of it," was the stubborn reply. + +The Americans rose. + +"We are not going to keep out of it," Knowlton declared, coldly. "We are +going straight into it. Thank you for your assistance." + +"Not so fast," Schwandorf protested. "If you are determined to go I will +help you if I can. Shall we sit on the piazza with a small bottle to aid +digestion? So! Thomaz! Bring from my stock the kümmel. Or would you +prefer whisky, gentlemen?" + +"Ginger-ale highballs are my favorite fruit," admitted Knowlton. "Can +ginger ale be bought here?" + +"Indeed yes. At one milrei a bottle." + +"Cheap enough. Thomaz, three bottles of ginger ale and one of North +American whisky--the best. Cigars also. Out on the piazza." + +"Si, senhores." + +Schwandorf got up. + +"If you will pardon me, I will drink my kümmel. Frankly, I do not like +whisky." + +"And frankly, we do not like kümmel. All a matter of taste." + +"Truly. So let each of us drink his own preference. I will join you in a +moment." + +The Americans sauntered to the door, while the German strode into his +room. + +"Blunt sort of cuss," Knowlton commented. + +"Ay, blunt. But not candid. Knows more than he's telling." + +Disposing themselves comfortably, they sat watching the lights of the +town and the jungle--the first pouring from windows and open doors, the +latter streaking across the darkness where the big fire beetles of the +tropics winged their way. As Knowlton had predicted, the night noise of +forest and stream had diminished; but now from the village itself rose a +new discord--a babel of vocal and instrumental efforts at music +emanating from the badly worn records of dozens of cheap phonographs +grinding away in the stilt-poled huts. + +"Good Lord!" groaned McKay. "Even here at the end of the world one can't +get away from those beastly instruments." + +A throaty chuckle from the doorway followed the words. Schwandorf +emerged, carrying a big bottle. + +"Yet there is one thing to be thankful for, gentlemen," he said. "In all +this town there is not one man who attempts to play a trombone." + +The others laughed. Thomaz appeared with bottles and thick cups. Corks +were drawn, liquids gurgled, matches flared, cigars glowed. Without +warning Schwandorf shot a question through the gloom: + +"Have you seen Cabral--the superintendent?" + +"Yes." + +"Ask him about the wild man?" + +"Yes." + +"Get any information?" + +"Nothing definite. He suggested that we see you." + +"So." + +A pause, while Schwandorf's cigar end glowed like a flaming eye. + +"The Red Bones live well up the river," he began, abruptly. "Twenty-four +days by canoe, five days through the bush on the east shore. That would +bring you to their main settlement--if you were not wiped out before +then. They're a big tribe, as tribes go. Ever been here before?" + +"No. Not here," Knowlton told him. "I've been in Rio, and McKay here has +knocked around in--" + +A stealthy kick from McKay halted him an instant. Then, deftly shifting +the sentence, he concluded, "--in a number of places." + +"So." Another pause. "Then I should explain about tribes. Tribes here +generally consist of from fifty to five hundred or more persons living +in big houses called '_malocas_.' Unless the tribe is very big, one +house holds them all. There may be any number of _malocas_, the +inhabitants of which are all of the same racial stock; yet each _maloca_ +is, as far as government is concerned, a tribe to itself, controlled by +a chief. No _maloca_ owes any duty to any other _maloca_. There is no +supreme ruler over all, nor even a federation among them. They live +merely as neighbors--distant neighbors. At times they fight like +neighbors. You understand." + +"'When Greek meets Greek--'" quoted McKay. + +"Just so. When I say, then, that the Red Bones are a big tribe, I mean +that there are about five hundred--maybe more--individuals in their main +settlement. They live in huts, not in one big tribe-house like the +Mayorunas. They are not Mayorunas, in fact; they paint differently, are +darker of skin, and more cruel. + +"The Mayorunas, by the way, are not so debased as you might think. +Though cannibals, they do not kill for the sake of eating 'long pig,' +like the cannibals of the South Seas. Neither do they eat the whole +body. Only the hands and feet of their dead enemies are devoured. These +are carefully cooked and eaten as delicacies along with monkey meat, +birds, fish, and other things prepared for a feast in honor of a +victory. The eating of human flesh seems to be symbolism rather than +savagery. Furthermore, they do not range the jungle hunting for victims. +They eat only those who come against them as enemies. + +"So it is quite possible, you see, that strangers might go among them +and escape death. It would depend largely on the ability of the +strangers to convince the savages that they were friends. The difficulty +is that the savages consider all strangers to be enemies until +friendship is proved." + +"A sizable difficulty," McKay remarked. + +"Almost insurmountable. Yet it might be done. Mind, I speak now of the +Mayorunas, not of the Red Bones. I tell you again that the Red Bone +country is closed." + +"And where is the Mayoruna region?" + +"In the same general section. The Mayorunas are much more widely +distributed. They are on both banks of the Javary and extend as far west +as the Ucayali. + +"Now if I sought to enter the Red Bone region--and again I say I would +not--this would be my way of going at it. I would go first among the +Mayorunas near the Red Bones and seek to convince them that I was their +friend. I would make the Mayoruna chief as friendly to me as possible. I +might even take a Mayoruna woman for a time--some of them are handsome, +and such a step would make me almost a Mayoruna myself in their eyes. +Then I would persuade the chief to send messengers to the Red Bones with +word of me and a request that I be allowed to visit their settlement. +The request, coming from the Mayoruna chief, probably would be granted. +I would then go in with a bodyguard of Mayorunas, do my business, and +come out via the Mayoruna route." + +A thoughtful silence ensued. Bottle necks clinked against the cups. + +"Something in that idea," conceded Knowlton. "A good deal in it. Barring +the woman part, of course." + +"Ay," spoke McKay, his tone casual as ever. "When you came out what +would you do with your woman, _mein Herr_?" + +Schwandorf, tongue loosened a bit by his kümmel, chuckled. + +"Ho-ho! The woman? Leave her, of course, when she had served my purpose. +Why bother about a woman here and there?" + +"I see." McKay's face, indistinct in the gloom, was unreadable, but his +tone had a caustic edge. + +Schwandorf laughed again. "You are fresh from the woman-worshiping +United States and you disapprove. But this is the jungle, and all is +different. '_Cada terra com seu uso_,' as these Brazilians say--each +land with its own ways. Perhaps when you have met the Mayoruna women, +looked on their handsome faces and shapely forms--they wear no clothing, +by the way--you will change your ideas. More than one man along this +border has risked his life to win one of those women. But that rests +with you. And now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have an engagement +with a man at the other end of town." + +"Certainly. We are indebted to you for your interest." + +"It is nothing. Remember that I strongly advise you not to go. But if +you will go, I shall gladly do whatever lies in my power to aid you in +preparing for the trip. Do not hesitate to call on me." + +He passed into the house, returning almost at once. + +"By the way," he added, "one of you has the room next mine?" + +"I have it," said Knowlton. + +"Yes. Are you a good sleeper? I sometimes snore most atrociously, I am +told. So perhaps--" + +"Don't worry. I can sleep in the middle of a bombardment." + +"You are fortunate. Good evening, gentlemen." + +When he was gone they sat for a time smoking, sipping now and then at +their highballs. At length McKay said, "Humph!" + +"Amen. Pretty square sort of chap, though, don't you think?" + +"I'm not saying," was the Scot's cautious answer. "Seems to be trying to +discourage us and egg us on at the same time. Something up his sleeve, +perhaps." + +"Can't tell. But his line of talk rings true so far. Checks up all right +with what we've heard about the Mayorunas and so on. And that scheme of +working in through the Mayoruna country sounds about as sensible as +anything. Desperate chance and all that, but it might work. Say, why did +you kick me when I was going to tell him you'd been in British Guiana?" + +"Don't know exactly. Had a hunch. Seems to me I've seen that fellow +before somewhere, but I can't place him. None of his business where I've +been, anyhow. We're boobs from the States hunting for a wild man. That's +all he needs to know." + +But it was not enough for Schwandorf to know. At that very moment he was +on his way to the home of Superintendent Cabral, with whom he had no +engagement whatever, to learn all he could concerning the business of +these military-appearing strangers; also to impress on that official the +fact that he had sought to dissuade them from starting on their mad +quest. + +And much later that night, when Knowlton was making good his boast that +he was a sound sleeper, a black-bearded face rose silently above the +iron partition between his room and that of the German. A hand gripping +a small electric flashlight followed. A white ray searched the room, +halting on the khaki shirt lying over a box. A tough withe with a barb +at one end came over like a slender tentacle, hooked the shirt neatly, +drew it stealthily up to the top. Shirt, stick, lamp, hand, face all +dissolved into darkness. + +After a time they reappeared. The shirt came down, swung slowly back and +forth, was dropped deftly where it had previously lain. The breast +pocket holding the grain-leather notebook and the photograph of David +Dawson Rand was buttoned as it had been, and the notebook bulged the +cloth slightly as before. But the contents of that book and the pictured +face of Rand now were stamped on the brain of Schwandorf. A sneering, +snarling smile curled the heavy mouth of Schwandorf. And softly, so +softly that none could hear it but himself, sounded the ironical +benediction of Schwandorf: + +"Sleep well, _offizier americanisch_! Dream on, poor fool! In time you +will wake up. _Ja_, you will wake up!" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +INTO THE BUSH + + +Sleepy eyed and frowzy haired, with shirt unbuttoned and breeches and +boots unlaced, Tim emerged from his iron-walled cell into the +cool-shadowed main room, blinked at McKay and Knowlton lounging over +their morning coffee and cigarettes, stretched his hairy arms, and +advanced sluggishly to the table. + +"Yow-oo-hum!" he yawned. "Ain't they cute! All dressed and shaved like +they was goin' to visit the C. O. And here's pore Timmy Ryan lookin' +like a 'drunk and dirty' jest throwed into the guardhouse, and feelin' +worse. Top o' the mornin' to ye, gents!" + +"Same to you, Tim," McKay nodded. + +"Who hit you?" asked Knowlton, squinting at bumps and scratches on Tim's +forehead. + +"Nobody. Couple fellers tried to, but they was out o' luck. Oh, I see +what ye mean! I done that meself while I was gittin' to bed." + +"Waves must have been running high on the ocean last night. Better drink +some coffee. Thomaz, another cup--big and black." + +"Thanks, Looey. 'Twas kind of an active night, at that." + +"I heard you come in," vouchsafed McKay. "Were you trying some high +diving in your room?" + +"Faith, I done some divin' without tryin', but 'twas ragged work--I +pulled a belly smacker every time. I got to tame that hammick o' mine. +It throwed me four times hand-running and the only way I could hold it +down was to unhook it and lay it on the floor." + +"Sleep well then?" + +"I did not. Cap, I thought I knowed somethin' about cooties, but I take +it back--I never knowed nothin' about them insecks till last night. +Where they come from I dunno, but I'll tell the world they come, and if +they wasn't half an inch long I'll eat 'em. They darn near dragged me +off whole, and all the sleep I got ye could stick in a flea's eye. +Lookit here." + +He extended an arm dotted with swollen red spots. + +"Ants!" said McKay, after one glance. "Ants, not cooties. They're +everywhere. Especially under the floor. That's one reason why folks +sleep in hammocks down here. Even then they're likely to come down the +hammock cords and drive you out." + +"Ants, hey? Never thought o' that. And I'd sooner spend another night +fightin' all the man-eatin' jaggers in the jungle than them bugs. It's +the little things that count, as the feller said when his wife give him +his fourteenth baby." + +He downed the thick coffee brought by Thomaz, demanded another cup, +accepted cigarette and light from Knowlton, and sighed heavily. + +"Who tried to hit you?" Knowlton persisted. + +"Aw, I dunno. Two-three fellers took swipes at me with bottles and +things. Me and Joey went to a place where they's card games and so +on--only place in town where the village sports can git action. Joey +offers to buy, and does. Stuff tastes kind o' moldy to me, so I asks +have they got any American beer. They have. It's bottled and warm, but +it's beer and tastes like home. It goes down so slick I buy another +round, and then one more, lettin' in a thirsty-lookin' stranger on the +third round. That makes seven bottles altogether. Then I think mebbe I +better pay up now before I lose track. Looey, guess what them seven +bottles o' suds come to in American money." + +"M-m-m! Well, say about three and a half or four dollars." + +"That's what I figgered," mourned Tim. "But them highbinders want +thirty-two dollars and twenty cents, American gold." + +"What!" + +"Sad but true. Seems the stuff sells here for four bucks and sixty cents +a bottle. Thinkin' I'm gittin' rooked because I'm a tenderfoot, I raise +a row to oncet and start to climb the guy. Other folks mix in and things +git lively right off. But after I've dropped a couple o' fellers Joey +winds himself round me and begs me not to make him arrest me, and also +tells me I'm all wrong--that's the regular price. So o'course that makes +me out a cheap skate unless I come acrost, and I do the right thing." + +"Lucky you had the money on you," said McKay, eying him a bit oddly. + +"I didn't," chuckled Tim. "All the dough I had was one pore lonesome +ten-spot--the one I got from ye yesterday, Cap. But I don't tell 'em +that. I jest wave my hand like thirty-two plunks wasn't nothin' in my +young life, and start to work meself out o' the hole. After the two guys +on the floor are brought back to their senses I order up drinks for all +hands and git popular again. Then I git out the bones." + +"Oh! I see!" McKay laughed silently. + +"Sure. Remember they told us on the boat that these guys will gamble on +anything? And that a feller without shoes on may be some rubber worker +packin' a roll that would choke a horse? Wal, I make a few passes with +them dice o' mine and their eyes light up like somebody had switched on +the current. Then I scrabble me hand around in me pants pocket, like I +was peelin' a bill off a roll so big I didn't want to flash the whole +wad, and haul out that pore li'l' ten and ask would anybody like to play +a man's game. + +"They would. I'll say they would. And they got the coin to back up their +play, too. Before I come home I was buyin' beer by the case instead o' +the bottle. And it's all paid for, and I got more 'n a hundred dollars +left, besides givin' Joey a fistful o' money jest for bein' a good +feller. This ain't a bad town at all, gents. Outside o' that +buckin'-broncho hammick and the man-eatin' ants I had a lovely evenin'." + +"How about Joao's lady friend?" quizzed Knowlton. + +"Huh? Oh, I didn't git to see her. When bones and beer are rollin' high +and handsome I got no time for women. Besides, I found out she was +mostly Injun and fat as a hog. Nothin' like that for li'l' Timmy Ryan. +Oh, say, before I forgit it--I asked Joey about this Dutchman here, and +he says--" + +McKay scowled, shook his head, pointed toward the closed door of +Schwandorf. Tim lifted his brows, winked understanding, and went on with +a break: "--that this guy Sworn-off is a reg'lar feller and knows this +river like a book. Says he's one fine guy and a man from hair to heels." + +Following which he grimaced as if something smelled bad, adding in a +barely audible whisper, "And that's the worst lie I ever told." + +"We met Mr. Schwandorf last night after you went," Knowlton said, +easily, drawing down one eyelid. "Very likable sort of chap. He's going +to help us get started upriver." + +"Uh-huh. When do we go? To-day?" + +"If possible." + +"Glad of it. This big-town sportin' life would be the ruination of a +simple country kid like me. Yo-hum! Wonder how all our neighbors are +this mornin'--the goat and the drunk and the two sick fellers. Kind o' +quiet over that side o' the room." + +Thomaz entered just then with more coffee. Knowlton turned to him. + +"Are the sick men better to-day, Thomaz?" + +"Much better, senhor," the lad said, carelessly. "They are dead." + +"Huh?" Tim grunted, explosively. + +"Dead," the youth repeated. "They were taken out at dawn. Do not be +alarmed. It was the swamp fever, which is not--what you say?--catching." + +"Humph! Sort of a reg'lar thing to die of fever here, hey?" + +Thomaz shrugged as if hearing a foolish question. + +"_Si._ Swamp fever, yellow fever, smallpox, beriberi--to-day we live, +to-morrow we are dead." + +"True for ye. They's allays somethin' hidin' round the corner waitin' to +jump ye, no matter where ye are. If 'tain't one thing, it's another." + +Despite his philosophical answer, however, Tim fell silent, his eyes +going to the doors of the rooms where Death had stalked last night while +he was gambling. Like most men in whose veins red blood runs bold and +free, he had no fear of the sort of death befitting a fighter--sudden +and violent--but a deep repugnance for those two assassins against which +a victim could not fight back--disease and poison. The Brazilian youth's +nonchalant fatalism aroused him to the fact that here both those forms +of death were very near him; the one in the air, the other on the +ground--fever and snakes. + +For the moment he was depressed. Then curiosity awoke. + +"If this here, now, Javary fever ain't catchin', how does a feller git +it?" + +"Mosquitoes," McKay enlightened him. "The _anopheles_. It bites a man +who has fever, then bites a well man and leaves the fever in him. Inside +of ten days he's sick, unless he takes a huge dose of quinine right +away. Mosquito attacks perpendicular to the skin. That is, it stands on +its head. If you ever notice one of them biting that way get busy with +the quinine." + +"Huh! Fat chance a feller's got o' seein' just how all these bugs bite +him. And one muskeeter standin' on its head does all that, hey?" + +"So they say. Also they say it's only the female that bites." + +"Yeah. I believe it. I been stung more 'n once by females before now. +How about the yeller fever? Git that the same way?" + +"Same way, only a different mosquito--the _stegomyia_. When you begin to +vomit black you're gone. And if you get beriberi you're gone, too. First +symptoms of that are numbness of the fingers and toes. Muscular +paralysis goes on until your heart stops." + +"Uh-huh. Nice cheerful place to die in, this Ammyzon jungle. Aw well, +what's the odds?" + +Wherewith he inhaled more coffee, flipped his cigarette butt at a small +lizard on the floor not far away, yawned once more, and swaggered out to +the piazza, bawling: + + "And when I die + Don't bury me a-tall, + But pickle me bones + In alky-hawl--" + +When his roar had subsided and the two former officers had sat silent a +moment, smiling over his nocturnal adventures, the door of Schwandorf's +room opened abruptly and the German stepped out. + +"_Morgen_," he grunted, striding to the table. "Thomaz!" + +"_Si_, Senhor Sssondoff." The youth faded away into the kitchen +quarters. + +"Always feel grumpy until I eat," grumbled the blackbeard. "None of this +coffee-cigarette breakfast for me. A real meal, coffee with gin in it, a +cigar--then I feel human. Sleep well?" + +His bold gaze never flickered as it encountered Knowlton's. + +"Fine. If you snored I didn't know it. Didn't hear the bodies taken out +this morning, either." + +"Bodies! Oh! Those fellows dead?" He tilted his head toward the doors +behind which the sick men had lain. "Glad of it. Best for them and +everybody else. Hate to have sick people in the place." + +The Americans said nothing. They lit new cigarettes and waited for the +other to become "human." And when his substantial breakfast was down, +his gin-flavored coffee had disappeared, and his big cigar was aglow, he +did. + +"Well, gentlemen, have you decided to take good advice and let your +Raposa alone?" he asked, affably. + +"Who ever follows good advice?" Knowlton countered. Schwandorf chuckled. + +"_Niemand._ Nobody. So you will go." He shook his head solemnly. "I have +said all I can without offense. But if you persist I can only help you +to start. If possible I should like to go with you up the river to the +place where you will take to the bush; but I must go to Iquitos, in +Peru, on the monthly launch which is due in a day or two, so all my +business is in the other direction. If now I can aid in the matter of a +crew--" + +"That is what we were about to ask of you." + +"So. Then let us be about it. I have been thinking, since you showed +your determination last night, and have made inquiries about men. There +are now in Nazareth, the little Peruvian town across the river, several +men from whom you can pick an excellent crew. Men of the river and the +bush, not worthless loafers like these townsmen here. Men who are not +afraid of hell or high water, as the saying is. Not remarkable for +either beauty or brains, but good men for your work--by far the best you +can obtain. I would suggest a large canoe and six or eight of those men +as crew." + +The others smoked thoughtfully. Then McKay said, "We should prefer +Brazilians." + +"Not if you knew the people hereabouts as well as I. It, of course, +makes no personal difference to me what sort of crew you get, but I tell +you that these men are best. What does it matter which side of the river +they come from? Men are men." + +"True," McKay conceded. + +"Can't be too fussy here," Knowlton added. "Let's see the men." + +All rose. But then Schwandorf suggested: + +"No need of your going to Nazareth. Better stay here, unless you want to +go through a great deal of ceremonious foolishness over there. It's +Peruvian ground and the barefooted ignoramuses of officials may insist +on showing their importance by demanding your papers and all that. I can +go across, get the men, and be back here before you'd be half through +the preliminaries. Saves time." + +"All right, if it's not too much trouble." + +"A good deal less trouble than if you went, to be frank. I'm known, and +I can go straight about the business. So sit down and wait. Thomaz! My +hat!" + +Out he tramped to the piazza, where he paused a moment to run a swift +eye over the disheveled figure of Tim, who had fallen sound asleep in a +chair. Then, without a further word or glance, he descended the ladder +and swung away down the street. The Americans, watching him from the +doorway, observed that children in his path hastened to get out of it, +and that he spoke to nobody. + +"Prussian," rasped McKay. + +"M-hm! Done time in the Kaiser's army, too, even if he has been here +since before the war. But he's treating us pretty white." + +The captain made no answer. Their eyes followed the big figure until +they saw it go sliding away toward Peru in a canoe propelled by two +languid townsmen. Then McKay dropped a hand on Tim's shoulder. The +red-lashed eyes flew open instantly. + +Briefly, quietly, Knowlton told of what had passed while he napped, then +asked what information he had gleaned from Joao. + +"He says," answered Tim, "this guy is a queer duck. Been around here +quite a while, but Joey don't know what's his game. He goes off on trips +upriver, stays quite a while, comes back unexpected, and nobody knows +where he's been or why. He don't use Brazilian boatmen--gits his men on +the other side. And the Peru boys themselves dunno where he goes, or, +anyways, they say they don't. + +"Two of 'em come over here awhile back and got drunk, and Joey tried to +pump 'em, but all the dope he got was that this here Fritz goes away +upstream to a li'l' camp, and from there he goes off into the bush +alone, and the Peru guys jest hang around the camp till he gits back. +Sounds kind o' fishy to me, and Joey says it does to him, too, but he +couldn't work nothin' more out o' the drunks because about that time +Sworn-off himself comes buttin' in and asks these guys what they think +they're doin' on this side the river, and they beat it back to Peru toot +sweet. He's got their goat, all right, and I wouldn't wonder if he's got +Joey's, too. Anyways, Joey tells me he's off this geezer and advises me +to lay off him, too, though he can't name a thing against him." + +"Queer," said Knowlton, looking again at the canoe out on the water. + +"Gun running?" suggested McKay. + +"Nope," Tim contradicted. "I thought o' that, but Joey says they's +nothin' to it; they watched this sourkrout close, and he don't never git +no guns from nowheres. Besides, they's nobody up there to run guns to +but Injuns, and them Injuns are so wild they don't want no guns; they +stick to the bow and arrer and such stuff, which they sure know how to +use. Whatever his game is, he plays a lone hand as far's this town +knows. Got no pals here, and nobody wants to walk on his corns." + +"May be perfectly all right, too," mused Knowlton. "A little gold cache +or something--though he said there was none in this region. Oh, well, +what do we care? We have our hands full with our own business, and all +assistance is appreciated." + +An hour drifted past. Men of the town lounged by, looking curiously at +the strangers, some nodding and voicing a friendly, "_Boa dia._" Women, +too, watched them from windows and doors, and children slyly peeped +around corners until something more important--such as a cat, a goat, or +a gorgeous butterfly--came their way. Tim went inside and slicked up a +bit by buttoning and lacing his clothes and combing his rebellious hair. +At length a long boat put out from the farther shore and came surging +across the sun-gleaming river. + +"Handle themselves well," McKay approved, noting the easy grace of the +crew. In the bow a tall, slender fellow stood with arms folded, +balancing himself to the sway of the rather clumsy craft and watching +the water ahead. In the stern, on a little platform whence he could look +over the heads of the others and catch any signal from the lookout, a +squat, dark-faced steersman lounged against his crude rudder. Between +these two the paddlers stood, each with one foot on the bottom of the +long dugout and the other on the gunwale, swinging in nonchalant unison +as their blades moved fore and aft. Under the curving roof of a +rough-and-ready cabin, open at the sides to allow free play of air, +Schwandorf lolled like some old-time barbarian king. + +Down to the landing place trudged the three Americans, and there the +employers and the prospective employees looked one another over with +interest. Eight men had come with Schwandorf, and a hard gang they were. +The bowman, hawk nosed, slant eyed, black mustached, with hairy chest +showing under his unbuttoned cotton shirt, had the face and bearing of a +buccaneer chieftain; and the effect was intensified by a flaring red +handkerchief around his head and the haft of a knife protruding from his +waistband. The rowers behind him, though of varying degrees of +swarthiness and height, all had the same sinewy build, the same bold +stare, the same devil-may-care insolence of manner; and though none but +the lookout wore the piratical red around his brow, more than one knife +hilt showed at their waists. The steersman, whose copper-brown skin and +flat face betokened a heavy strain of Indian blood, gazed stolidly at +the Americans with the unwinking, expressionless eyes of a snake. Back +into the minds of McKay and Knowlton came Schwandorf's words, "Men not +afraid of hell or high water." They looked it. + +"Here they are," announced the German, stepping ashore deliberately. +"José, the _puntero_"--his hand indicated the lookout--"Francisco, the +_popero_"--pointing to the steersman--"and six _bogas_. Good men." + +McKay ran a cold eye along the line of faces, his gaze plumbing each. +Under that chill scrutiny the third man's stare wavered and dropped. +That of the next also veered aside. The rest fronted him eye to eye. + +"Two of them will not do," he asserted, in the brusque tone of a captain +inspecting his company. "Numbers Three and Four--fall out!" + +Literal obedience would have put Three and Four into the river, +wherefore they stood fast. But, though they did not quite understand the +meaning of the words, they grasped the fact that they were not wanted. +One laughed impudently, the other slid a poisonous glance at the +bleak-faced officer. The squat Francisco scowled. So did Schwandorf. + +"No man who cannot look me in the eye is needed on this trip," McKay +declared. "Also, six men are enough. If necessary we will bear a hand at +the paddles ourselves. José, you have been told by Senhor Schwandorf +what we want?" + +"_Si._" + +"You can start at once?" + +"_Si._" + +"What pay?" + +"We leave that to you." + +"Um! A dollar a day for each man?" + +"Money or goods?" + +"American gold." + +"_Si. Bueno._" + +"Very well. Take those two men back to Nazareth, get what belongings you +need, return here, and report to me at the hotel. I am captain. +Understand?" + +"_Si_--Capitan." + +"All right. On your way!" + +As the boat drew out the two rejected men bade the Americans an ironical +"_adios_," and one spat in the stream. In the faces of the others, +however, showed something like respect for the crisp-spoken captain, and +José snarled something at the ill-mannered Three and Four. + +"You might need those men," mumbled Schwandorf. + +"Guess not," McKay answered, serenely, turning toward the hotel. "Come +on, boys. Let's get our stuff ready to ride." + +Less than two hours later their rooms were vacant, their duffle was +stowed in the long dugout, the Peruvian crew stood arrogantly eying the +Brazilians who had gathered to witness the departure, and the Americans +were bidding good-by to Remate de Males in general and its German +resident in particular. + +"Mr. Schwandorf, we thank you for your efficient aid," said Knowlton, +extending a hearty hand. "You have helped us to get going with all +dispatch, and we trust that we can repay the favor soon." + +"You owe me no thanks," was the curt reply. "I would expect you to do as +much for me if our positions were reversed. I wish you luck." + +"Get aboard, Tim!" McKay ordered, setting the example himself. Tim +obeyed, first giving the important Joao d'Almeida Magalhaes Nabuco +Pestana da Fonseca a real American handgrip and getting in return a +double embrace from that worthy official. Whereafter he winked and +grinned expansively at several women garbed in violent hues of red, +yellow, and green, frowned slightly at Schwandorf, lit the last cigar he +was to smoke for many a long day, and, as the dugout began to move, +erupted into a more or less musical farewell to the females of the +species: + + "The Yanks are goin' away, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + They're movin' on to-day, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + The Yanks are goin' away, they say, + Leavin' the girls in a heartless way, + Rinkydinky-parley-voo!" + +With one final wave of his cigar to the gesticulating Joao and the +grinning women he turned his back on the town and faced the little-known +river and the inscrutable jungle. But neither his eyes nor his thoughts +traveled beyond the bow of the boat. Through narrowed lids he studied +the swaying paddlers and the piratical José. And in his mind echoed the +whispered warning of Joao, delivered during the effusive embrace at +parting: + +"Comrade, watch those _bastardos Peruanos_." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN THE NIGHT WATCH + + +Day by day the long canoe crawled into the vast unknown. Day by day the +down-flowing jungle river pushed steadily, sullenly against its prow, as +if striving to repel the invasion of its secret places by the +fair-skinned men of another continent. Day by day it slid past in +resentful impotence, conquered by the swinging blades of the Peruvian +_bogas_. And day by day the close companionship of canoe and camp seemed +to weld the voyagers into one compact unit. + +Through hours of blazing sun, when the mercury of the thermometer which +Knowlton had hung inside the shady _toldo_ cabin fluctuated well above +100 degrees, the hardy crew forged on. Through drenching rains they +still hung doggedly to their work, suspending it only when the water +fell in such drowning quantities that they were forced to tie up hastily +to shore and seek cover in order to breathe. When sunset neared they +picked with unerring eye a spot fit for camping, attacked the bush with +whirling machetes, cleared a space, threw up pole frameworks, swiftly +thatched them with great palm leaves, and thus created from the jungle +two crude but efficient huts--one for themselves and one for their +_patrones_. When night had shut down and all hands squatted around the +fire in a nightly smoke talk they regaled their employers with wild +tales of adventures in bush and town, some of which were not at all +polite, but all of which were mightily interesting. And despite all +discomforts, fatigue, and the minor incidents and accidents which often +lead fellow travelers in the wilderness to bickering and bitterness, no +friction developed between the men of the north and the men of the +south. + +Not that the Peruvians were at all obsequious or servile. They were a +reckless, lawless, Godless gang, perpetually bearing themselves with the +careless insolence which had characterized them at first, blasphemous of +speech toward one another--but never toward the North Americans. +Disputes arose among them with volcanic suddenness, and more than once +knives were half drawn, only to be slipped back under the tongue-lashing +of the hawk-nosed _puntero_, José, who damned the disputants completely +and promised to cut out the bowels of any man daring to lift his +blade clear of its sheath. Five minutes afterward the fire eaters +would be on as good terms as ever, shrugging and grinning at their +passengers--particularly Tim, who, shaking his head disgustedly, would +grumble: + +"Aw, pickles! Another frog fight gone bust!" + +Yet Tim, for all his disparagement of these abortive spats, knew full +well that any one of them held the makings of a deadly duel and that +José's lurid threats were no mere Latin hyperbole. He realized that the +red-crowned bowman ruled his crew exactly as any of the old-time +buccaneers whom he resembled had governed their free-booting gangs--by +the iron hand; and that, though these men sailed no Spanish Main and +flew no black flag, the iron-hand government was needed. He saw also +that the rough-and-ready courtesy of this crowd toward their passengers +was due largely to the attitude of Captain McKay, who had enforced their +respect at the start by his soldierly bearing and retained it ever since +by his military management. + +For the captain, experienced in directing men, conducted himself at all +times as a commanding officer should: he saw all, said little, treated +José as a subordinate officer, and left the handling of the crew +entirely to him. His aloofness forestalled any of that familiarity +which, with such a gang, would have led to contempt. On the other hand, +his avoidance of any assumption of meddlesome authority prevented the +irritation and dislike which free men inevitably feel for the +self-important type of leader. Thus he cannily steered himself and his +mates between the two rocks which might have wrecked the expedition +before it was well started. And Knowlton, ex-lieutenant, and Tim, +ex-sergeant, seeing and understanding, followed his example. + +So the days and nights rolled by, the miles of never-ending jungle shore +fell away behind, and, save for the occasional outbreaks between members +of the crew, all was serene. To all appearances the Peruvians were +whole-heartedly interested in serving their employers faithfully, and +the North Americans were gliding onward with no thought of insecurity. +Yet appearances frequently are deceptive. + +In the heat of the day--in fact, before the broiling sun neared the +zenith--Tim and Knowlton habitually fell asleep inside the _toldo_, not +to awake until two hours before sunset, when, according to the routine +agreed upon, the night's camping place would be sought and two or three +of the Peruvians would go into the bush with rifles, seeking fresh meat. +McKay never slept during the day's traverse. Nothing escaped his eye +from the time when he emerged from his mosquito net in the misty morning +until he entered it again by firelight. The men in the boat; the +floating alligators and wading birds of the water; the flashing parrots, +jacamars, toucans, trogons, and hummers of the air; the yard-long +lizards and nervous spider monkeys of the tangled tree branches +alongshore--all these he watched quietly as the boat forged on. And the +sinister Francisco, watching him in turn, and the paddlers throwing +occasional glances his way, came to regard him as the only alert member +of the trio. Wherein they erred. + +The truth was that every one of the three adventurers was on his guard. +Tim had not forgotten the last words of his boon companion, Joao, and at +the first opportunity he had quietly passed on that warning. Moreover, +McKay and Knowlton, without discussing the matter, had meditated on the +unexpected assistance of Schwandorf, the speed with which the crew had +been obtained, the promptness of José to accept the first payment +offered, and other things. Wherefore it had come about that at no hour +of the twenty-four was every eye and ear closed. And the real reason why +red Tim and blond Knowlton slept by day was that they thus made up the +slumber lost at night. + +Not that either of them patrolled the camp in sentry go. So far as the +Peruvians knew, they slept as soundly as McKay. But, lying in their +hammocks, they divided the night watches between them on a schedule as +regular as that of a military camp, though the shifts necessarily were +longer. As sunset came always at six o'clock and all hands sought their +hanging beds two hours later, Tim's "tour of duty" lasted until one in +the morning. When the phosphorescent hands of his watch pointed to that +hour he stealthily reached out and jabbed Knowlton, sleeping beside him. +When a barely audible "All right" reached his ears he was officially +relieved. + +Night followed night, became a week, lengthened into a fortnight. Still, +so far as the crew was concerned, nothing happened. A little rough +banter among them as they smoked their last cigarettes, then sleep and +snores; and that was all until morning. Men less experienced in night +vigils than the ex-soldiers would have abandoned their watches long +before this--if, indeed, they had ever adopted them. But these three +were schooled in patience. Moreover, neither Tim nor Knowlton had ever +before penetrated the jungle, and at times the light of the waxing moon +revealed to their eyes strange things which they never would have seen +by day. So the tedium of the long hours of wakefulness might be broken +at any moment. + +Once they camped close to a conical hillock of compact earth, some four +feet high and almost stone hard, from which radiated narrow covered +galleries--the citadel and viaducts of a community of termites. Tim, +still harboring vivid recollections of his ant battle at Remate de +Males--though by this time he had trained himself to sleep in his +hammock, where he was comparatively safe--looked askance at it when told +what it was, and was only partly reassured by the information that +termites were eaters of wood rather than of flesh. After sleep had +embraced the rest of the camp he still was uneasy, lifting his net at +long intervals and squinting at the moonlit mound as if expecting a +horde of pincer-jawed insects to erupt from it and charge him. And +during one of these inspections he saw something totally unexpected. + +From the black shadows of the forest had emerged another shadow, so +grotesque and misshapen that it seemed a figment of indigestion and +weird dreams--a thing from whose shaggy body protruded what appeared to +be only a long tubular snout where a head should be, and which looked to +be overbalanced at the other end by a great mass of hair. It stood stone +still, and for the moment Tim could not decide which end of it was head +and which was tail, or even whether it were not double-tailed and +headless. Then, slowly, the apparition moved. + +Into that hard-packed earth it dug huge hooked claws, and from its +tapering muzzle a wormlike tongue licked about, gathering the outrushing +white ants into its gullet. For minutes Tim lay blinking at it, +wondering if he really saw it. + +Then, picking up his rifle, he slipped outside his net and advanced on +the creature. + +The animal turned, sat back on its great tail, lifted its terrible +claws, and waited. Six feet away, just out of its reach, Tim stopped and +stared anew. Then he grinned. + +"You win, feller," he informed the beast. "What ye are I dunno, but any +critter that's got the guts to ramble right into camp and offer to gimme +a battle is too good a sport for me to shoot. Help yourself to all the +ants in the world, for all o' me. I'm goin' back to bed. Bon sewer, +monseer." + +Wherewith, still grinning, but warily watching, he backed until sure the +big invader would not spring at him. Knowing nothing of ant bears, he +did not know it was hardly a springing animal. + +Its claws looked sufficiently formidable to disembowel a man--as, +indeed, they were, if the man came near enough. But when Tim had +withdrawn and the sluggish brute had decided that it would not need to +defend itself, it sank to all-fours and passed stiffly away into the +shades whence it had come. + +On another night, when Tim slept, Knowlton detected a creeping, +slithering sound which made him slip off the safety catch of his +heavy-bulleted pistol and peer at the hut where slept the crew. No man +was moving there. Still the sound persisted. Lifting his net, he spied +beyond the hut of the Peruvians a moving mass on the ground--a +cylindrical bulk which looked to be two feet thick, and which glided +past like a solid stream of dark water flowing along above the dirt. Its +beginning and end were hidden in the bush, and not until it tapered into +nothing and was gone did he realize fully that he had been gazing at an +enormous anaconda. Then he kicked himself for not shooting it. But +before long he congratulated himself for letting it go. + +Perhaps an hour later the startled forest resounded with an agonized +scream, so piercing and so appallingly human that all the camp sprang +awake. The outcry came but once, sounding from some place not far off, +near the water's edge, and in the direction toward which the huge +serpent had disappeared. Before the watcher had time to tell the others +of what he had seen, one of the boatmen discovered the rut left in the +soft ground by the reptile. Thereafter Knowlton kept his own counsel, +listening to the excited curses of the men and observing their pallor +and their nervous scanning of the shadows. José said the screech +undoubtedly was the death shriek of some animal caught and crushed in +the snake's tremendous coil. McKay concurred with a nod. And when +Knowlton casually said it was tough that nobody had been awake to shoot +the thing as it passed the camp, José emphatically disagreed. + +A bullet fired into that fiendish giant, he averred, would have meant +death to one or more men; for the serpent's writhing coils and lashing +tail would have knocked down the sleeping-hut and shattered the spines +of any men they struck. No, let Señor Knowlton thank the saints that the +awful master of the swamps had gone its way unmolested. For the rest of +that night Knowlton kept his watch openly, accompanied by José and three +of the paddlers, who refused to sleep again until they should be miles +away from the vicinity of that dread monster. + +Two nights afterward the camp was aroused again. Tim alone saw the start +of the disturbance, and he kept mum about it because he did not choose +to let the Peruvians know he had been on the alert. Out from the gloom +and straight past the huts a thick-bodied, curve-snouted animal came +charging madly for the river, carrying on its back a ferocious cat +creature whose fangs were buried deep in its steed's neck--a tapir +attacked by a jaguar. With a resounding plunge the elephantine quarry +struck the water and was gone. The tiger cat, forced to relinquish its +hold or drown, swam hurriedly back to the bank below the encampment, +where it roared and spat and squalled in a blood-chilling paroxysm of +baffled fury. And though every man was awakened, not one left the flimsy +shelter of his net. Nor did anyone so much as speak until Tim, wearying +of the noise, announced his intention to "go bust that critter in the +nose and give him somethin' to yowl about." + +The proposal met with instant and peremptory veto. + +"As you were!" snapped McKay. "Let him alone! You wouldn't have a +Chinaman's chance in that black bush. A jaguar is bad all the time, and +when he's mad he's deadly. Never fool with one of those beasts, Tim. +I've met them before and I know what they can do." + +To which José agreed with many picturesque oaths, declaring that a +jaguar was no mere beast--it was a devil. Tim, grumbling, obeyed orders. +The jaguar, hearing their voices, stopped its noise and probably +reconnoitered the camp. But no man saw the brute, and its next roar +sounded from some spot far off in the jungle. + +Other things, too, passed within Tim's range of vision from time to time +in the moonlit hours: a queer bony creature which he took for some new +kind of turtle, but which really was an armadillo; a monstrous hairy +spider which slid like a streak up his net, hung there for a time, +decided to go elsewhere, and departed with such speed that the man +inside rubbed his eyes and wondered if he was "seein' things that +ain't"; a couple of vampires which flitted in from nowhere like ghoulish +ghosts, wheeled and floated silently on wide wings, seeking an exposed +foot protruding from the hammocks, found none, rested a moment on the +roof poles, chirping hoarsely, and veered out again into the night. + +To Knowlton's watch came a strange owl-faced little monkey with great +staring eyes and face ringed with pale fur--one of those night apes +seldom seen by man; a small troop of kinkajous, slender, long-tailed +animals which looked to be monkeys, but were not, and which leaped +deftly among the branches like frolicsome little devils let loose to +play under the jungle moon; a big scaly iguana, its back ridged with saw +teeth and its pendulous throat pouch dangling grotesquely under its jaw; +and more than one deadly snake and huge alligator, the first gliding +past with venomous head raised and cold eye glinting, the second lying +quiescent except for occasional openings of horrific jaws. + +To the ears of both the hammock sentinels came the mournful sounds of +living things unseen. From the depths beyond drifted the weird plaint of +the sloth, crying in the night, "Oh me, poor sloth, oh-oh-oh-oh!" Goat +suckers repeated by the hour their monotonous refrains, "Quao quao," or +"Cho-co-co-cao," while a third earnestly exhorted, "Joao corta pao!" +("John, cut wood!"). Tree frogs and crickets clacked and drummed and +hoo-hooed, guaribas poured their awful discord into the air, and on one +bright breathless night there sounded over and over a call freighted +with wretchedness and despair--the wail of that lonely owl known to the +bushmen as "the mother of the moon," whose dreadful cry portends evil to +those who hear it. + +Sometimes the air shook with the thunderous concussion of some great +falling tree which, long since bled to death by parasitical plant +growths, now at last toppled crashing back into the dank soil whence it +had forced its way up into a place in the sun. Other noises, infrequent +and unexplainable, also drifted at long intervals from the mysterious +blackness. And in all the medley of night sounds not one was cheerful. +The burden of the jungle's cacophonic cantanta ever was the +same--despair, disaster, death. + +Then came the fifteenth day. It dawned red, the sun fighting an +ensanguined battle with the heavy morning mists and throwing on the +faces of the early-rising travelers a sinister crimson hue. Before that +sun should rise again some of those faces were to be stained a deeper +red. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +COLD STEEL + + +Some two hours after the start, while Knowlton and Tim loafed at the +fore end of the cabin, enjoying the comparative coolness of the early +day, another boat hove in sight up ahead--a longish craft manned by +eight paddlers and without a cabin. + +As it came into view its bowman tossed his paddle in greeting. The +Peruvians ignored the salutation. The bowman, after shading his eyes and +peering at the flamboyant figure of José, resumed paddling without +further ceremony, evidently intending to pass in silence. But then McKay +arose, waved a hand, and told José to steer for the newcomers. José, +with a slightly sour look, gave the signal to Francisco, and the course +changed. + +The other canoe slowed and waited. Its men watched the tall figure of +McKay. Tim and Knowlton scanned the bronzed faces of those men and liked +them at once. The paddlers evidently were Brazilians, but of a different +type from the sluggish townsmen of Remate de Males--alert, +active-looking fellows, steady of eye, honest of face, muscular of +arm--in all, a more clean-cut set of men than the Peruvians. All three +of the Americans noticed that no word was exchanged between the two +crews. + +"_Boa dia, amigos!_" spoke McKay. "Who are you and whence do you come?" + +"We are rubber workers of Coronel Nunes, senhor," the bowman answered, +civilly. "We go to make a new camp. This land is a part of the +_seringel_ of the coronel, and we left his headquarters yesterday." + +"Ah! Then the headquarters is above here?" + +"One more day's journey," the man nodded. + +"I thank you. Good fortune go with you." + +"And with you, senhor. May God protect you." + +With the words the Brazilian glanced along the line of Peruvian faces +and his eyes narrowed. Though his words were only a respectful farewell, +his expressive face indicated that McKay might be badly in need of +divine protection at no distant date. As his paddle dipped and his men +nodded their leave-taking, Francisco, the _popero_; sneered raucously: + +"Hah! Mere _caucheros_! Workers! Slaves!" + +And he spat at the Brazilian boat. + +Fire shot into the eyes of the bowman and his comrades. Their muscles +tensed. + +"Better be slaves--better be dogs--than Peruvian cutthroats!" one +retorted. "Go your way, and keep to your own side of the river." + +"We go where we will, and no misborn Brazilians can stop us," snarled +Francisco. To which he added obscene epithets directed against +Brazilians in general and the men of Coronel Nunes in particular. + +The unprovoked insults angered the Americans as well as the Brazilians. +Knowlton leaped through the _toldo_ and confronted Francisco. + +"Shut your dirty mouth!" he blazed. + +For reply, the evil-eyed steersman spat at him the vilest name known to +man. + +An instant later, his lips split, he sprawled dazedly on his platform, +perilously close to the edge. Knowlton, the knuckles of his left fist +bleeding from impact with the other's teeth, stood over him in white +fury. Francisco's right hand fumbled for his knife. Knowlton promptly +stamped on that hand with a heavy boot heel. + +"Good eye, Looey!" rumbled Tim's voice at his back. "Boot him some more +for luck. Hey, you! Back up or I'll drill ye for keeps!" This to a pair +of the Peruvian paddlers who had come scrambling through the cabin. + +After one searching stare into Tim's hard blue eyes and a glance at his +fist curled around the butt of his belt gun, the _bogas_ backed up. A +moment later they were thrown boldly into their own part of the boat by +José, who blistered them with the profanity of three languages at once. +Then McKay came through and took charge. + +"That'll do, Tim! Same goes for you, Merry! José, I'll handle this. You, +Francisco! Get up!" + +The curt commands struck like blows. Every man obeyed. And when the +squat steersman again stood up McKay went after him roughshod. In the +colloquial Spanish of Mexico and the Argentine, in the man talk of +American army camps, he flayed that offender alive. José himself, +efficient man handler though he was, stared at his captain in awe. And +Francisco, though not given to cringing, skulked like a beaten dog when +the verbal flagellation was finished. + +Turning then to the Brazilians, McKay formally apologized for the +insults to them. + +"It is nothing, senhor," coolly answered the bowman--though his glance +at the Peruvians said plainly that it would have been something but for +the swift punishment by the Americans. "Again I say--may God protect +you! Adeos!" + +The Brazilian boat glided away. The Peruvian craft crawled on upstream +in silence. + +When the next camp was made all apparently had forgotten the affair. The +men badgered one another as usual, though none mentioned Francisco's +split mouth; and Francisco, himself, albeit sulky, betrayed no sign of +enmity. After nightfall the regular camp-fire meeting was held and at +the usual time all turned in. One more night of listening to the sounds +of the tropical wilderness seemed all that lay ahead of the secret +sentinels. + +Sleep enveloped the huts. Snores and gurgles rose and fell. Tim himself, +for the sake of effect, snored heartily at intervals, though his eyes +never closed. Through his mosquito bar he could see only vaguely, but he +knew any man walking from the crew's quarters must cast a very visible +shadow across that net, and to him the shadow would be as good a warning +as a clear view of the substance. But the hours crept on and no shadow +came. + +At length, however, a small sound reached his alert ear--a sound +different from the regular noises of the bush--a stealthy, creeping +noise like that of a big snake or a huge lizard. It came from the ground +a few feet away, and it seemed to be gradually advancing toward his own +hammock. Whatever the creature was that made it, its method of progress +was not human, but reptilian. Puzzled, suspicious, yet doubtful, Tim +lifted the rear side of his net, on which no moonlight fell. Head out, +he watched for the crawling thing to come close. + +It came, and for an instant he was in doubt as to its character, for +around it lay the deep shadow of some treetops which at that point +blocked off the moon. It inched along on its stomach, its black head +seeming round and minus a face, its body broad but flat--a thing that +looked to be a man but not a man. Then, pausing, it raised its head and +peered toward the hammock of Knowlton. With that movement Tim's doubts +vanished. The lifting of the head showed the face--the face of +Francisco, the face of murder. In its teeth was clamped a bare knife. + +Forthwith Tim applied General Order Number Thirteen. + +In one bound he was outside his net, colliding with Knowlton, who awoke +instantly. In another he was beside the assassin, who, with a lightning +grab at the knife in his mouth, had started to spring up. Tim wasted no +time in grappling or clinching. He kicked. + +His heavy boot, backed by the power of a hundred and ninety pounds of +brawn, thudded into the Indian's chest. Francisco was hurled over +sidewise on his back. Another kick crashed against his head above the +ear. He went limp. + +"Ye lousy snake!" grated Tim. "Crawlin' on yer belly to knife a sleepin' +man, hey? Blast yer rotten heart--" + +"What's up?" barked McKay from his hammock. + +"Night attack, Cap. If ye're comin' out bring along yer gat. Hey, Looey, +got yer gun on? Some o' these other guys might git gay. They're comin' +now." + +True enough, the Peruvian gang was jumping from its hut. With another +glance at the prostrate Francisco to make sure he was unconscious, Tim +whirled to meet them, fist on gun. + +"Halt!" he roared. "First guy passin' this corner post gits shot. Back +up!" + +The impact of his voice, the menace of his ready gun hand, the sight of +Knowlton and McKay leaping out with pistols drawn, stopped the rush at +the designated post. But swift hands dropped, and when they rose again +the moonlight glinted on cold steel. + +"Capitan, what happens here?" demanded José, ominously quiet. + +"Knife work," McKay replied, curtly. "Your man Francisco attempted to +creep in and murder Señor Knowlton. If you and the rest have similar +intentions, now's your time to try. If not, put away those knives." + +"Knives! _Por Dios_, what do you mean?" + +"Look behind you." + +José looked. At once he snarled curses and commands. Slowly the knives +slipped out of sight. The paddlers edged backward to their own shack, +leaving their _puntero_ alone. + +"The capitan has it wrong," asserted José. "We awake to find our +_popero_ being kicked in the head. We want to know why. If Francisco has +done what you say I will deal with him. That I may be sure, allow me to +look." + +"Very well. Look." + +José advanced, stooped, studied the ground, the position of Francisco's +body, the knife still clutched in the nerveless hand. Tim growlingly +vouchsafed a brief explanation of the incident. When José straightened +up, his mouth was a hard line and his eyes hot coals. + +"_Si. Es verdad._ To-morrow we shall have a new _popero_." + +With which he stooped again, grasped the prone man by the hair, dragged +him into the moonlit space between the huts, and flung him down. "Juan, +bring water!" he ordered. + +One of the paddlers, looking queerly at him, did so. José deluged the +senseless man. Francisco, reviving, sat up and scowled about him. His +eyes rested on the three Americans standing grimly ready, shoulder to +shoulder, before their hut; veered to his mates bunched in sinister +silence beside their own quarters; shifted again to meet the baleful +glare of José. His hand stole to his empty sheath. + +"Your knife, Francisco _mio_?" queried José, a menacing purr in his +tone. "I have it. It seems that you are in haste to use it. Too much +haste, Francisco. But if you will stand instead of crawling as before, +you may have your knife again--and use it, too." + +Francisco, staring sullenly up, seemed to read in the words more than +was evident to the Americans. He lurched to his feet, staggered, caught +his balance, braced himself, stood waiting. + +"You know who commands here," José went on. "You disobey. You seek to +stab in the night--" + +"Now or later--what is the difference?" + +"--and now the boat is too small for both of us." José ignored the +interruption. "Here is your knife. Now use it!" + +He flipped the weapon at the other, who caught it deftly. José dropped +his right hand to his waist. An instant later naked steel licked out at +Francisco's throat. + +The steersman's knife flashed up, caught the reaching blade, knocked it +with a scraping clink. For a few seconds the two weapons seemed welded +together, their owners each striving to bear down the other's wrist. +Then they parted as the combatants sprang back. + +José side-stepped twice to his right. Francisco, turning to preserve his +guard, now had the light full in his face. But the moon rode so high +that the steersman's disadvantage was negligible, and the next assault +of the _puntero_ was blocked as before. And this time the wrist of the +_popero_ proved a bit the better; he threw the attacking steel aside and +struck in a slashing sweep at his antagonist's stomach. + +A convulsive inward movement of the bowman's middle, coupled with a +swift back-step, made the slash miss by a hair's breadth. With the +quickness of light José was in again. His knife hand, still outstretched +sidewise, stopped with a light smack of flesh on flesh. Then it jerked +outward. His steel now was red to the hilt. + +One more rapid step back, a keen glance at his opponent, and José stood +at ease. From Francisco burst a bubbling groan. He staggered. His knife +dropped. His hands rose fumblingly toward his neck. Suddenly his knees +gave way and he toppled backward to the ground. The silvery moonlight +disclosed a dark flood welling from his severed jugular. + +With the utmost coolness José ran two fingers down his wet blade, +snapped the fingers in air, and spoke to his crew: + +"As I said, we shall have a new _popero_. To-morrow, Julio, you will +take the platform." + +A rumble ran among the men. Their eyes lifted from Francisco to the +Americans, and in them shone a wolfish gleam. The bowman turned sharply +and faced them. + +"Who growls?" he rasped. "You, Julio?" + +"_Si, yo soy_," Julio answered, harshly, fingering his knife. "I will be +steersman, but I steer downstream, not up. Francisco spoke the truth. +Now or later--what is the difference? Let it be now!" + +A louder growl from the others followed his words. One stepped back into +the shadow of the hut. + +"_Perros amarillos!_ Yellow dogs! You go upstream, fools! The Americans +must be taken--" + +A raucous sneer from Julio interrupted him. Simultaneously the paddler's +hand leaped upward, poising a knife. + +"The gringos stay here--and you, too, you Yanqui cur!" + +The poised knife hissed through the air at José. + +Out from the crew house shot a streak of fire and a smashing rifle +report. + +José dodged, staggered, screeched in feline fury, the knife buried in +his left arm. + +McKay grunted suddenly, fell, lay still. + +"God!" yelled Tim. "Cap's gone! Clean 'em, Looey!" + +With the words he leaped aside and pulled his pistol, just as another +rifle flare stabbed out from the other hut and a bullet whisked through +the space where he had stood. An instant later he was pouring a stream +of lead at the spot whence the burning powder had leaped. + +Knives flashing, teeth gleaming, the other paddlers charged across the +ten-foot space between the huts. + +José, his left arm helpless, but his deadly right hand still gripping +his knife, hurled himself on Julio, who had seized a machete from +somewhere. + +Knowlton slammed a bullet between the eyes of the foremost _boga_, who +pitched headlong. He swung the muzzle to the other man's chest--yanked +at the trigger--got no response. The gun was jammed. + +With a triumphant snarl the blood-crazed Peruvian closed in, slashing +for the throat. Knowlton slipped aside, evaded the thrust, swung the +pistol down hard on his assailant's head. The man reeled, thrust again +blindly, missed. Knowlton crashed his dumb gun down again. It struck +fair on the temple. The man collapsed. + +Tim was charging across the open at the crew house. José and Julio were +locked in a death grapple. No other living man, except Knowlton, still +stood upright. Stooping, he peered into the red-dyed face of McKay. Then +he laid a hand on the captain's chest. Faint but regular, he felt the +heart beating. + +"Thank God!" he breathed. With a wary eye on the battling Peruvians he +swiftly raised the captain and put him into Tim's hammock. As he turned +back to the fight Tim emerged from the other hut, carrying a body, which +he dropped and swiftly inspected. At the same moment the fight of José +and Julio ended. + +With a choked scream Julio dropped, writhed, doubled up. Then he lay +still. José, his face ghastly, stared around him. His mouth stretched in +a terrible smile. + +"So this ends it," he croaked, his gaze dropping to Julio. "_Adios_, +Julio! The machete is not--so good as the knife--unless one has--room +to--swing it--" + +He chuckled hoarsely and sank down. + +For an instant Knowlton hesitated, his glance going back and forth +between McKay and José. Swiftly then he ran his finger tips over McKay's +head. With a murmur of satisfaction he turned from his comrade and +hurried to the motionless bowman, over whom Tim now bent. + +"Bleedin' to death, Looey," informed Tim. "Ain't cut bad excep' that +arm. That flyin' knife must have got an artery. Can we pull him through? +He's a good skate." + +"I'll try. You look after Cap. He's only knocked out--bullet creased +him--" + +"Glory be! He's all right, huh? Sure I'll fix him up. Everybody else +dead? I got that guy in the bunk house--drilled him three times." + +"Look out for that fellow over there. Maybe I brained him, but I'm not +sure." + +Knowlton was already down on his knees beside José, working fast to loop +a tourniquet and stop the flow from the pierced arm. With a handkerchief +and his pistol barrel he shut off the pulsating stream. + +"Yeah, he's done," judged Tim, rising from the man whom Knowlton had +downed at last. "Skull's caved in. What 'd ye paste him with?" + +"Gun. Cursed thing stuck." + +"Uh-huh. Them automats are cranky. Say, lookit the mess Hozy made o' +that guy Hooley-o." + +Knowlton glanced at Julio and whistled. José's oft-repeated threat to +disembowel a refractory member of the crew had at last been literally +fulfilled. + +But the lieutenant had seen worse sights in the shell-torn trenches of +France, and now he kept his mind on his work. Wedging the gun to hold +the tourniquet tight, he lifted his patient from the red-smeared mud and +bore him to the nearest hammock in the crew quarters. Striding back, he +found Tim alternately bathing McKay's head and giving him brandy. In a +moment the captain's eyes opened. + +"Some bean ye got, Cap," congratulated Tim, vastly relieved at sight of +McKay's gray stare. "Bullet bounced right off. Here, take another +swaller. Attaboy! Hey, Looey, we better pack this crease o' Cap's, huh? +She keeps leakin'." + +"Yep. Dip up the surgical kit. And give José a drink. I'll have to tie +his artery, too. How do you feel, old chap?" + +"Dizzy," McKay confessed. "What's happened?" + +"Lost our crew," was the laconic answer. "All gone west but José, and +he's bled white. We'll have to paddle our own canoe now." + +For a time after his head was bandaged McKay lay quiet, staring out at +the tiny battlefield and at his two mates working silently on the +wounded arm of José. When they came back he spoke one word. + +"Schwandorf." + +"Yeah! He's the nigger in the woodpile, I bet my shirt. But why? What's +his lay, d'ye s'pose?" + +"Perhaps José knows," suggested Knowlton. "But he's in no shape to talk +now. Let's see. Schwandorf said he was going to Iquitos?" + +"Yes, but that doesn't mean anything." + +"Probably not. Well, maybe José can explain." + +There were some things, however, which José could not have told if he +would, for he himself did not know them. One was that Schwandorf really +had gone to Iquitos, where was a radio station. Another was that from +that radio station to Puerto Bermudez, thence over the Andes to the +coast, and northward to a New York address memorized from Knowlton's +notebook, already had gone this message: + + McKay expedition killed by Indians. Rand search most dangerous, but + if empowered I attempt locate him for fifty thousand gold payable + on safe delivery Rand at Manaos. Reply soon a possible. + + KARL SCHWANDORF. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE DOUBLE-CROSS + + +Noon, sweltering hot. A blazing sun pouring vertical rays down on a +blinding river. A long canoe wearily creeping up the glaring waters, +minus a lookout, heedless of the ever-present danger of sunken tree +trunks; propelled by three sun-blistered white men, one of whom wore a +bandage around his head; steered perfunctorily by a pallid pirate whose +left arm hung in a sling. Atop the right bank an unbroken, endless +tangle of jungle growth. Ahead, on the left shore, a gap gouged out of +the forest and a number of boats at the water's edge. + +"Guess that's it," panted Knowlton, shielding his eyes and squinting at +the clearing. "One more day's journey, the Brazilian chap said. We've +been two and a half." + +"One day's journey for six hardened rivermen, señor," corrected José. +"Not for three men doing six men's work and hampered by a cripple." + +"Aw, ye're no crip, Hozy," dissented Tim. "Any guy that can steer a tub +like this here one-handed after losin' a couple gallons o' juice is in +good shape yet, I'll say. If ye had both legs shot off and yer arms +broke and yer head stove in, now, ye might call yourself sort o' +helpless. Ease her over to the left a li'l' more, so's we'll hit the +bank right at the corner o' that gap. Me, I don't want to take one +stroke more 'n I have to. Every muscle in me is so sore it squeaks." + +"Same here," admitted Knowlton. "I'm one solid ache." + +José nodded. The clumsy craft veered a bit. The three put a little more +punch into their lagging strokes, noting, as they neared the steep bank, +that a couple of men had appeared at its top and were staring at them. +Gradually the long dugout worked in to the muddy shore, where the +paddlers stabbed their blades into the clay and held it firm. + +"Ahoy, up there! This the Nunes _seringal_?" + +From the edge, some thirty feet above, the taller of the two watchers +answered: + +"_Si_, senhor. The headquarters of the coronel. Do you come to visit +him?" + +"Right." + +"Then permit me to help you. The path is a little ahead. Pull up and tie +to this stake." + +The tall fellow came dropping swiftly downward. At the same time the +other Brazilian stepped back and was gone. + +With a dexterous twist the man of Nunes moored the boat to the +designated stake. Then he reached a hand toward Tim to help him out. + +"I ain't no old woman, feller," Tim refused, and hopped aground +unassisted. McKay and Knowlton followed. But José, after moving +languidly forward and contemplating the sharp slope, hesitated and then +shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am tired, señores," he said. "And perhaps it would be well for one to +stay here and watch." + +The tall Brazilian's eyes narrowed. + +"There is no danger of loss," he asserted, with dignity. "We men of the +coronel are not thieves." + +The slight emphasis of his last sentence might have been taken as an +intimation that some one else not far away would bear watching. José's +mouth tightened. For a moment Brazilian and Peruvian eyed each other in +obvious dislike. Then, with a glance at his crippled arm, José shrugged +again. + +"Better come along, José," McKay said. "Stuff's safe enough." + +"As you will, Capitan." + +He lounged to the edge, hesitated, wavered slightly. At once the +Brazilian darted out a hand and gave him support. And while the four +clambered up the slope he retained a grip on the Peruvian's arm, aiding +him to the top. When they emerged on the level, however, he dropped his +hand immediately. José gave him a half-mocking bow of thanks, to which +he replied with a short nod. Then he stepped back and let the Peruvian +precede him toward a number of substantial pole-supported houses a +hundred yards away. + +"No love lost between them two," thought Tim, who had watched it all. +"Good skate, though, this new feller. Ready to help a guy that needs it, +whether he likes him or not; ready to knock his block off, too, if he +needs that. Bet he'd be a hellion in a scrap. Dang good-lookin' lad, +too." + +Wherewith he introduced himself. + +"Don't git sore because I growled at ye down below," he said, with a +friendly grin. "Sounded rough, mebbe, but that's my style. I'm Tim Ryan, +from the States. I bark more 'n I bite." + +The overture met with instant response--a quick smile and a twinkle in +the warm eyes. + +"It is not words that give offense, senhor, but the way they are +spoken--and the man who speaks them. One man may growl, but you like +him. Another may speak smoothly, but you itch to strike him. Is it not +so? I am Pedro Andrada, a _seringueiro_ who should be tapping trees +instead of loafing here. But my partner and I have just come in from a +long trip into the _sertao_--wilderness--and are resting." + +"Yeah? Was that yer buddy I seen with ye?" + +"My--ah--buddee? Partner? Yes, that was he--Lourenço Moraes, the best +comrade one ever had. He has gone to tell the coronel of your arrival. +Have you met with an accident downriver?" + +He moved a thumb meaningly toward the only remaining member of the crew. + +"Yeah," grimly. "Bad accident." + +Tim tapped his pistol significently, raised five fingers, winked, and +twitched his head toward the Peruvian. Pedro lifted his brows, nodded +quick understanding, pointed to the bad arm of José, and made motions as +if pulling a trigger. Tim shook his head and enacted the pantomime of +drawing and throwing a knife. Whereat the Brazilian, aware that José was +not a prisoner and probably knowing that North Americans were not knife +throwers, looked much puzzled. But their sign manual went no farther, +for they now approached the house which evidently formed the dwelling +and office of Coronel Nunes. + +At the foot of the ladder stood a broad-shouldered, square-jawed, +thick-muscled, deeply tanned man, who, without speaking, pointed a thumb +upward. Above, in the doorway, waited an elderly Brazilian of medium +height and spare figure, standing with soldierly erectness and garbed in +white duck of semimilitary cut. He beamed down at McKay and Knowlton, +but as his black eyes encountered those of José they seemed suddenly to +become very sharp. Then his gaze rested on Tim's broad face and he +smiled again. + +"Enter, gentlemen," he invited. "_Esta casa e a suas ordenes_--this +house is at your disposal." + +McKay, with a bow, climbed the ladder, followed by Knowlton. José, with +a swaggering stare at the wide-shouldered man, who stared straight back +without facial change, also went up. Tim came fourth and last, for Pedro +stopped beside his countryman, who evidently was Lourenço. + +The travelers found themselves in a room which, in view of its distance +from civilization, seemed palatial. Its floor was tight, its furniture +modern, its walls decorated with a few excellent pictures, of which the +largest was a superb view of the rugged harbor of Rio de Janeiro. +Comfortable chairs were ranged along the walls, and the middle of the +room was occupied by a massive square-cornered table on which lay a +jumble of hand-written business papers, a number of books, a high-grade +violin and bow. Beyond the table stood a swivel chair, evidently the +usual seat of the coronel. Table and chair were so arranged that the +master of this house sat always with his back to a wall and his face +toward the door. And on a couple of hooks on that wall, ready for +instant service, hung a high-power rifle. + +On their way up the river the Americans had passed, at long intervals, a +few small rubber estates, whose headquarters consisted mainly of a crude +shack or two, hardly better than the dingy houses of Remate de Males. +This place was more imposing. They had observed, while crossing the +cleared space, that it was at least half a mile square; that its +warehouse for supplies was big and solid; that a goodly number of +_barracaos_, or rubber workers' huts, surrounded the house of the master +at a respectful distance; and that the owner's home was no one-room +cabin, but big enough to contain six or eight rooms. This well-appointed +reception room and the formal yet sincere courtesy of its owner showed +that Coronel Nunes was no mere native of the frontier. Later they were +to learn that he was a gentleman of Rio who, exiling himself from the +capital after the death of his wife, had carved from this forbidding +jungle a fortune in the rubber trade. + +With the correct touch of Latin punctilio McKay spoke the introductions +and stated that they were on their way upriver to explore the +hinterland. With equal politeness the coronel bowed and begged his +illustrious guests to be seated. Then he touched a small bell. A door at +one side opened and a white-suited negro appeared. + +"Café," the coronel ordered. As speedily as if these visitors had been +long expected, the servant brought in a tray bearing cups of syrupy +coffee. Each of the guests accepted one. Whereafter the decorum of the +occasion was shattered by Tim, who, at the imminent risk of scalding +himself, gulped his refreshment and vociferated his satisfaction. + +"O-o-oh boy! That hits right where I live! Gimme another one, feller, +and make it man's size!" + +The black fellow struggled with his quick mirth and then laughed +outright--the throaty, infectious laugh of his race. The coronel's eyes +twinkled. And when Tim fished a damp cigarette from his shirt, +nonchalantly scraped a match on his host's table, blew a cloud of smoke, +and sprawled back with one leg dangling over a chair arm, formality went +a-glimmering. + +"_A quem madruga Deus ajuda_," laughed the coronel. "Or, as you North +Americans put it, 'God helps those who help themselves.' Let us not be +ceremonious, gentlemen. 'Tonio, bring more coffee. And cigars. And--" + +Down behind his table, where only the servant saw the motion, he +twitched a finger as if pulling a cork. 'Tonio, his ebony countenance +split by a grin, ducked his head and vanished into the other room. + +"How is the rubber market, sir?" asked Knowlton, seeking to divert +attention from Tim. + +"Not so good," the old gentleman replied, with a deprecatory gesture. +"In truth, it is very poor since the war--so poor that soon I shall +abandon this _seringal_ and go out to spend the rest of my life on the +coast. With rubber selling at a mere five hundred dollars a ton in New +York and the artificial plantations of the Far East growing greater +yearly, there is no longer much profit in bleeding the wild trees of our +jungle. I really do not know why I stay here now, unless it is because I +have become so much accustomed to this life." + +"Why, I understood that there was much money in rubber!" + +"You speak truth--there was. Now there is not. The world moves and times +change. Years ago foreigners came into Brazil, helped themselves to the +seed of our wild trees, and planted it in Ceylon and the Malay region. +That seed now bears such fruit that the world is flooded with rubber. +Ten years ago, senhores, a ton sold for six thousand five hundred +dollars. Now, in this year nineteen-twenty, the price is only +one-thirteenth of what it was in those days. It scarcely pays for the +gathering. I hope you have not come expecting to make fortunes in +rubber." + +"No. We are here to find a race of men known as Red Bones." + +The coronel's brows lifted. They kept on lifting, and he opened his lips +twice without speaking. After a long stare at Knowlton he looked at +McKay, at Tim, and finally at José. A frown grew on his face. And the +Americans, following his look at the Peruvian, were surprised to see +that José himself was staring blankly at the speaker. + +"José Martinez!" snapped the coronel, leveling a finger pistollike at +the _puntero_. "What devil's game are you working now?" + +José recovered himself and lifted his coffee cup. + +"I do not understand you, Nunes," he replied, languidly. "I am but the +humble _puntero_ of the crew engaged by these señores. My only work has +been to earn my pay. And you may ask _el capitan_ whether I have earned +it." + +"Ay, he has," corroborated McKay. "Killed two of his own crew in our +defense." + +The coronel's jaw dropped. He blinked as if disbelieving his ears. + +"He--José? Not possible!" he stuttered. "José--this man--defended you +against his companions?" + +"Exactly." + +The Brazilian slowly shook his head. Then suddenly he nodded as if an +illuminating thought had crossed his mind. + +"I see. José is very well paid." + +"One dollar a day," was McKay's dry retort. + +At that moment 'Tonio re-entered with a larger tray than before, bearing +more coffee, long cigars, and squat glasses in which glowed a golden +liquid. Tim sat up with a grunt and helped himself with both hands. When +the coronel's turn came he disregarded the drinks, but lit the cigar as +if he needed it. + +"_De noite todos os gatos sao pardos_," he said. "At night all cats are +gray. I am much in the dark, gentlemen. If you would be so good as to +enlighten me--" + +He paused, looking sidewise again at José as if the _puntero_ had +suddenly grown wings or horns. + +"All right," nodded Knowlton, biting and lighting his cigar. "We are +somewhat in the dark ourselves as to why José has been so zealous, for +he has been very taciturn since the recent fight at our camp. Perhaps +José also is a bit hazy about our expedition--he looked rather surprised +just now. So here is the situation." + +Briefly then he outlined the object of the search, stating that the +identity of the mysterious Raposa was a matter of some concern to +certain persons in the United States and that the expedition had been +formed with the view of settling the question. From the time of the +landing at Remate de Males, however, he narrated events more fully, +giving complete details of Schwandorf's activities, Francisco's offense, +and the final attack by the crew. While he talked the coronel's frown +deepened. Also, José gradually assumed the expression of a thundercloud. +And when the tale was done the _puntero_ exploded. + +"_Sangre de Cristo!_" he yelled. "_El Aleman_--the German--he told you +we would go among the cannibals? We? Peruvians? _Madre de Dios!_ If ever +I get within knife length of him! Nunes, you see, do you not?" + +The coronel nodded grimly. + +"I see that he planned to have all of you destroyed. Senhor Knowlton, +that black-bearded and black-hearted man suggested that you take +Mayoruna women? He told you they were shapely of body and tried to put +into your minds the thought of making them your paramours? The snake! + +"He did not tell you, then, that the Mayoruna men allow no trifling with +their women; that any alien man attempting to embrace one of them would +be killed. But it is true. If you should succeed in establishing +friendly relations with the men--which is not at all likely--you would +forfeit all friendship, and your lives as well, by the slightest +dalliance with any of the women. + +"He told you that more than one man has risked his life to win a +Mayoruna woman? That is true. But he gave you a false impression as to +the way in which the risk was incurred. He did not tell you that +Peruvian _caucheros_ have sometimes raided small isolated _melocas_ of +the Mayorunas, shooting down the men and carrying off the girls to be +victims of their bestial lust. He did not tell you that for this reason +any Peruvian is considered their enemy and is killed without mercy +wherever found. Yet he tried to send you with Peruvian guides into their +country. He knew the Peruvians would be killed on sight--and you with +them." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +FIDDLERS THREE + + +Black looks passed among the men as the duplicity of Schwandorf lay +plain before their eyes. Tim growled. José hissed curses. The coronel +whirled to him. + +"José! What was his object in trying to destroy you and your crew? You +have been his man. You know much about him. He wanted to stop your +mouth, yes? Dead men tell no tales." + +The _puntero's_ eyes glittered. For a moment the others thought he was +about to reveal important secrets. Then his face changed. + +"I know no reason why we should be killed," he declared. + +"I do not believe you," the coronel declared, bluntly. + +José shrugged, calmly drank the coronel's wine, lighted the coronel's +cigar, leaned back in the coronel's chair, and eyed the coronel with +imperturbable insolence. + +"See here, José," demanded McKay, "you've had something up your sleeve +all along. Now come clean! What is it?" + +José puffed airily at the cigar, saying nothing. + +"What orders did Schwandorf give you?" + +This time the reply came readily enough. + +"To take you twenty-four days up the river and put you ashore. To +prevent any trouble before that time." + +"Ah! And after that?" + +"Nothing. At least, nothing to me. What may have been said to the other +men I do not know. Schwandorf came to me last, after he had picked all +the others." + +"And what do you know about Schwandorf?" + +"What is between me and Schwandorf will be settled between me and +Schwandorf. My duty to you señores lies only in handling the crew. Now +that there is no crew my duty ends. Also, Capitan, I would like my pay +now." + +"You quit?" + +"Why not? I have done my best. I can do no more. I am crippled. I am of +no further use to you. Give me my pay, a little food, a small canoe, and +I go." + +"It is possible, Senhor José," spoke the coronel, with ironic +politeness, "that you may not go so soon. You have killed two men +recently. You refuse to reveal some things which should be known about +the German. Perhaps the law--" + +José burst into a jeering laugh. + +"Law? You speak of law? There is no law up the river but the law of the +gun and the knife. And if there were, señor, what then? I killed in a +fair fight. I killed men who would do murder. I killed on the west bank +of the river--Peru. Neither you nor any other Brazilian can lay hand on +me. And though I now have only one good arm, it will not be well for +anyone to try to hold me. My knife and my right hand still are ready." + +"By cripes! the lad's right!" Tim blurted, impulsively. "And I'll tell +the world I'm for him. He's got a right to keep his mouth shut if he +wants to. He don't owe us nothin'. Mebbe he's got somethin' up his +sleeve, at that; but he stuck with us in the pinch, and--" + +"And we'll give him a square deal, of course," Knowlton cut in. "José, +your own wages to this point, at a dollar a day, are eighteen dollars. +The wages of the five other men to the place where they--quit--would +aggregate seventy-five dollars. Grand total, ninety-three. The others +chose to take their pay in lead instead of gold, so their account is +closed. Therefore I suggest that their pay go to you as _puntero_, +_popero_, and good sport. What say, Rod?" + +"Make it a hundred flat," McKay agreed. + +"Right. A hundred in gold. Satisfy you, José?" + +"Indeed yes, señor. I did not expect such generosity." + +"That's all right, then. We'll fix you up before we move on, and--Say! +Are you in Schwandorf's pay, too?" + +José hesitated. Then he replied: + +"Since you mention it, I will admit that _el Aleman_ offered me certain +inducements to make this journey. I now see that he had no intention of +meeting his promises. But you can leave it to me to collect from him +whatever may be due." + +Even the coronel nodded at this. The gleam in the Peruvian's eyes +presaged unpleasantness for Schwandorf. + +"You gentlemen, of course, will not attempt to continue your journey for +the present," the coronel suggested. "You are fatigued and I shall +greatly appreciate the pleasure of your companionship. New arrangements +also will be necessary in the matter of a boat and men." + +"We've been wondering about getting another boat and a new crew," +Knowlton said, frankly. "The canoe we have is too big for three men to +handle, and I'll admit we're tired. José, too, is in no shape to travel +yet--" + +"José, of course, is my guest also," the old gentleman interrupted. "The +question of new men can be solved. But there is time for everything, and +now is the time for all of you to rest. As our proverb has it, '_Devagar +se vae ao longe_'--he goes far who goes slowly." + +McKay arose, glass in hand. + +"To our host," he bowed. The toast was drunk standing. Whereafter the +host tapped the bell twice and 'Tonio reappeared with a tray of fresh +glasses. A toast to the United States by the coronel followed, and as +soon as the black man arrived with a third round the Republic of Brazil +was pledged. Then the coronel directed the servant: + +"'Tonio, if Pedro and Lourenço are outside, ask them to move the +belongings of the gentlemen from the canoe. And make ready rooms for the +guests." + +'Tonio disappeared down the ladder. The coronel raised the violin, +tendered it to the others, accepted their pleas to play it himself, and +for the next half hour acquitted himself with no mean ability. Snatches +of long-forgotten operas and improvisations of his own flowed from the +strings in smooth harmony, hinting at bygone years amid far different +surroundings for which his soul now hungered and to which he would +return. Pedro and Lourenço, transporting the equipment, passed in and +out soft-footed and almost unnoticed. At length the player, with a +deprecatory smile and a half apology for "boring his guests," extended +the instrument again toward the visitors. And McKay, silent McKay, took +it. + +Sweet and low, out welled the haunting melody of "Annie Laurie." Tim, +who had listened with casual interest to the coronel's music, now +grinned happily. And when the plaintive Scotch song became "Kathleen +Mavourneen" he closed his eyes and lay back in pure enjoyment. "The +River Shannon" flowed into "The Suwanee River," and this in turn blended +into other heart-tugging airs of Dixieland. When the last strain died +and the captain reached for his half-smoked cigar the room was silent +for minutes. + +Then, to the astonishment of all, José spoke: + +"Señores, there was a time when I, too, could draw music from the +violin. If I may--" His eyes rested longingly on the instrument. + +"_Certamente_, if you can use the arm," the coronel acquiesced. With a +little difficulty José drew his arm from the sling, balanced his left +elbow on the chair arm, and poised the violin. A half smile showed in +the eyes of the coronel as he glanced at his guests. He, and they as +well, expected a discordant, uncouth attempt to scrape out some obscene +ditty of the frontier. + +But as José, after jockeying a bit, began drifting the bow across the +strings, the suppressed smiles faded and eyes opened. Here was a man +who, as he said, once could play. And he wasted no time on airs composed +by others and known to half the world. Under his touch the mellow wood +began to talk, and in the minds of the listeners grew pictures. + +City streets, blank-walled houses, patios, the rattle of the hoofs of +burros over cobbles, the shuffle of human feet, the toll of bells from a +convent tower. Gay little bits of music, laughter, flashing eyes, a +voluptuous love song repeated over and over. A sudden wild outbreak, +fighting men, shots, the clash of steel--again a tolling bell and a +requiem for the dead. A horse galloping in the night. Mountain winds +crooning mournfully, rising to the scream of tempest and the crash of +thunder. Dreary uplands, the hiss of rain, the sough of drifting snow, +the patient plod of a mule along a perilous trail. And then the jungle: +its discordant uproar, its hammering of frogs, its hoots and howls, the +dismal swash of flood waters. A monotonous ebb and flow of life, +punctuated by sudden flares of fight. Then a long, mournful wail--and +silence. + +His bow still on the strings, José sat for a minute like a stone image, +his eyes straight ahead, his pale face drawn, his red kerchief glowing +dully in the semishadow like a cap of blood. For once his face was empty +of all insolence, changed by a pathetic wistfulness that made it tragic. +Then, wordless, he lowered the violin, held it out to the coronel, +fumbled absently at his sling, and slowly incased his wounded arm. When +he looked up his old mocking expression had come back and he once more +looked the reckless buccaneer. + +For a time no one spoke. Each felt that he had glimpsed something of +this man's past; felt, too, that he who now was a bloody-handed borderer +had once been a _caballero_, moving in a much higher circle. Certainly +he could not play like this unless he had been of the upper class in his +youth. The coronel's face was thoughtful as he took back the violin. +When at length he began to talk, however, it was on a topic as remote as +possible from music and present personalities--the reconstruction of +Europe as the result of the World War. + +With this and kindred subjects, aided by the attentive ministrations of +'Tonio, the afternoon passed swiftly. Dinner proved a feast, the _pièce +de résistance_ being tender, well-cooked meat which the Americans took +for roast beef, but which really was roast tapir. More cigars, coupled +with the fatigue of the past two days of paddling, eventually caused the +visitors to seek their rooms, where McKay and Knowlton paired off and +Tim took José as his "bunkie." + +When Tim awoke the next morning he found himself deserted. + +To Knowlton, who drew from the small gold-chest the hundred dollars +allotted to José and handed it to him before redressing his wound, the +_puntero_ quietly revealed his intention to go before sunrise. + +"Say nothing, señor," he requested. "You need know nothing of it, if you +like. I am here to-night--I am gone to-morrow--that is all. I am of no +further use to you, I am unwelcome in this house of Nunes, and I go. Oh, +have no fear for me! I have my gun, my knife, and my good right arm, and +I can take care of myself very well. No doubt the coronel will be +astonished to find that on leaving to-night I have neither cut anyone's +throat nor stolen anything--ha! I have a black name on this river, and +it is well earned, perhaps. Yet few men are as bad as those who dislike +them think they are. I may borrow a small canoe, but any Indian would do +the same. An unoccupied canoe is any man's property. + +"Before our ways part, señor, let me say that as José Martinez never +forgets his enemies, so he never forgets friends. Where some men would +have turned me loose like a sick dog with my eighteen dollars, you and +Señor McKay give me a hundred. And far more than that, you saved my life +at a time when many men would have said, 'Bah! let the bloody one die! +He is nothing but scum of the border and leader of that murdering crew.' +You had only to let me lie a few minutes longer and you would be rid of +me. No, José does not forget. + +"That is all, except--if you will, in parting, take the hand of a man +known as a killer and other things--" + +Knowlton gripped that hand with swift heartiness. He would have +protested against such a departure, but the other's steady gaze +betokened inflexible purpose. So he merely said: + +"Then good luck, old chap! And if you meet Schwandorf give him our +affectionate regards." + +"_Si_, señor," was the sardonic answer. "I will do that thing. And here +is something that may be of interest to you. I happen to know that +before we left Remate de Males a swift one-man canoe left Nazareth, and +that the man in it was an Indian who is in the German's control. It went +upstream while we were loading your supplies, and it has not returned. +By this time it must be many hours above this place. I do not know what +message that Indian carries, nor where he goes. But he is a short man, +and his left leg is crooked. If you meet such a one make him talk. +Good-by, señor." + +Just how and when the _puntero_ cat-footed his way out that night none +ever knew but himself. But before the next dawn he had vanished from the +Brazilian shore. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +BY THE LIGHT OF STORM + + +"One thing I can't understand," Knowlton said, toying with his coffee +cup the next morning, "is why Schwandorf should double-cross us. We +never did anything to him. Another thing I don't quite get is how he +expected to have the Peruvians wiped out when he knew blamed well they +were aware of the enmity of the cannibals. They'd hardly be likely to go +into the bush with us under those circumstances." + +"My guess is this," McKay replied. "He set a trap. He is on a friendly +footing with some of the savages above here, no doubt. He dispatched +that Indian messenger to stir them up with some false tale and bring +them to some place where they'd be pretty sure to get us. He primed the +crew to jump us at the same place, perhaps. Then the crew would kill us +or we'd kill them, and whichever side won would be smeared by the +Indians. Sort of a trap within a trap. Why he did it doesn't matter +much. He double-crossed us, he double-crossed the crew, he +double-crossed José. First thing he knows he'll find he's double-crossed +himself." + +"Yeah," Tim grunted. "He better beat it before we git back!" + +"He wanted no killing before we reached the cannibal country," McKay +went on, "because then it would all be blamed on the savages and he +could show clean hands. Francisco's vengefulness tipped over his cart." + +"Still, he might have known we'd stop here for a call on the coronel, +and that there was a big chance for us to be warned here about the feud +between Mayorunas and Peruvians." + +"That probably was provided for. Crew doubtless had orders to prevent +any such visit, by lying to us or in other ways. We probably would have +gone surging past here at top speed." + +"Wal, it don't git us nothin' to talk about things that 'ain't +happened," interposed the practical Tim. "Question is, where do we go +from here? And how?" + +All eyes went to the coronel, who sat languidly smoking his morning +cigar. + +"Coronel, we are in your hands," McKay said, bluntly. "Your men, I +presume, are all out at work in various parts of the bush. We want a +crew and, if possible, guides. Can you help us?" + +The coronel flicked off an ash and spoke slowly: + +"I have two men, senhores, who have no peers as bushmen. They are the +two whom you saw yesterday. Frankly, they are most valuable to me, and I +hesitate about sending them on so dangerous a mission as yours. Yet they +might succeed where most men would fail, for they have repeatedly gone +into the bush on risky journeys and returned unharmed. Their adventures +would fill books. + +"The older of these two, Lourenço Moraes, has been more than once among +the cannibals of this region, and so he knows something of them. +Naturally he did not live long among them; he left them as soon as he +could. But he has the faculty of extricating himself from hopeless +positions--or perhaps it would be better to say that his cool head and +good fortune together have preserved him thus far. '_Tanta vez vae o +cantaro a fonte ate gue um dia la fica_'--the pitcher may go often to +the spring, but some day it remains there. + +"Pedro Andrada, the younger, is not so steady and cool-headed as +Lourenço. Yet he is a most capable man, and the two together--they are +always together--make a very efficient team." + +"I bet they do," Tim concurred, heartily. "I like that Pedro lad fine." + +"So do I," the coronel smiled. "Now, gentlemen, I will not order these +men to go with you. If they go it must be of their own choice. They have +only recently returned from a hazardous mission and they are entitled to +rest. Yet I have little doubt that they will jump at the chance to risk +their lives in a new venture. If they choose to go, I suggest that you +place yourselves entirely in their hands and give them free rein. You +would look far for better men." + +"And we're lucky to get them," Knowlton acquiesced. "To them and to you +we shall be greatly indebted." + +"Not to me, senhor," the coronel demurred "I do nothing but bring you +men together. Theirs is the risk. 'Tonio! Find Pedro and Lourenço. Shall +we go into the office, gentlemen?" + +Chairs scraped back and an exodus from the dining room ensued. Outside, +the lusty voice of the negro bawled. Soon he was back, and at his heels +strode the lithe Pedro and the quiet Lourenço. They ran their eyes over +the group, then stood looking inquiringly at their employer. + +"Be seated, men. Roll cigarettes if you like," said the coronel. Coolly +they did both. Pedro, catching Tim's friendly grin, flashed a quick +smile in return. Lourenço, unsmiling, looked squarely into each man's +face in turn and seemed satisfied with what he saw. Both then glanced +around as if missing some one. + +"Your friend José has left us," the coronel informed them, dryly, +interpreting the look. "He disappeared in the night." + +"Ah! That is why one of our canoes is gone," said Pedro. "We are ready +to start." + +"You mistake," the old gentleman laughed. "We do not want him back. +Nothing else is missing." + +Whereat Pedro looked slightly surprised. Lourenço's lips curved in a +faint grin. Neither made any further comment. + +The coronel plunged at once into the business for which they had been +summoned. Succinctly he stated the purpose of the North Americans in +coming here, pointed out their need of guides--and stopped there. He +said nothing of the dangers ahead, mentioned no reward, did not even ask +the men whether they would go. He merely lit a fresh cigar and leaned +back in his chair. + +A silence followed. Again Lourenço looked searchingly into the face of +each American. Pedro contemplated the opposite wall, taking occasional +puffs from his cigarette. At length Knowlton suggested, tentatively: + +"We will pay well--" + +Both the bushmen frowned. The coronel spoke in a tone of mild reproof: + +"Senhor, it is not a matter of pay. These men can make plenty of money +as _seringueiros_." + +"Pardon," said Knowlton, and thereafter held his tongue. + +Deliberately Lourenço finished his smoke, pinched the coal between a +hard thumb and forefinger, and spoke for the first time. + +"May I ask, senhor, if you are the commander?" His gaze rested on McKay. + +"I am." + +"And do I understand that we shall at all times be subject to your +orders?" + +"In case any orders are necessary--yes. But I assume that you will not +need commands." + +A quiet smile showed in the bushman's eyes. He glanced at Pedro. The +latter met the look from the corner of his eye, without wink, nod, or +other sign. But when Lourenço turned again to McKay he spoke as if all +were arranged. + +"When do we start, Capitao?" + +Tim slapped his leg and cackled. + +"By cripes! there ain't no lost motion with these guys. Hey, Cap?" + +McKay smiled approvingly. + +"We shall get on together" he said. "Lourenço and Pedro, this is not a +one-man party. We are three comrades, who now become five. If at any +time one man needs to command, I, as senior officer, will take that +command. Otherwise we are all on an equal footing." + +"Just so," Lourenço agreed. "If it were otherwise you would still be +three men--not five. Since that is plain, let me say frankly that your +big canoe had best stay here, also everything you do not need in the +bush. Two light canoes are faster, easier to handle and to hide. Pedro +and I have our own canoe and will provide our own supplies. We will pick +out a three-man boat for you and load it with what you select from your +equipment. After that every man swings his own paddle." + +"_Cada qual por si e Deus por todos._ Each for himself and God for us +all," Pedro summarized. + +"That's the dope," applauded Tim. "Now say, Renzo, old feller, what d'ye +know about these here, now, Red Bones up above here? And have ye got +anything on that Raposy guy?" + +Lourenço shook his head. + +"I know little of the Red Bone people, for I have never met them. That +is one reason why I now should like to meet them. I have heard of them, +yes; and the things I have heard are not pleasant. Yet it may be that +the tales are worse than the people. I have also heard terrible stories +of the light-skinned cannibals, the Mayorunas; yet I have been among the +cannibals and found them not so bad--though it is true that they eat the +flesh of their enemies; I have seen it done. But it makes a very great +difference how they are approached and who the men are who approach +them. It is possible that we may go unharmed among even _los Ossos +Vermelhos_--the Red Bones. We shall see. + +"Of the Raposa I think I do know something. I have seen him." + +Everyone except Pedro sat up with a start. + +"You have seen him?" exclaimed the coronel. "When? Where? How? Why have +you not spoken of it?" + +"Because, Coronel, I forgot it until now. It meant nothing to us--yes, +Pedro was with me--except that it was one more queer thing in the bush. +In time I might have remembered it and told you. But you know we have +been busy." + +"True. But go on." + +"It was only a little time ago. We were returning from the scouting trip +on which you sent us to locate new rubber trees. We were +seven--eight--seven--" + +"Eight days' journey from here," prompted Pedro. + +"_Si._ We were in our canoe when a sudden storm broke and we got +ashore to wait until it was over. The place was on an _ygarapé_--a +creek--about two days away from the river. The trees were large and the +ground free from bush. In a flash of lightning we saw a man peering out +at us from a hollow tree. + +"He was naked and streaked with paint--that was all we saw in the +flashes that came and went. The rain was heavy, and we stayed where we +were until it ended. Then we ordered that man to come out. + +"He came, and he held bow and arrow ready to shoot. We, too, were ready +to shoot, but we held back our bullets and he held back his arrow. We +saw that his paint was red and that it traced his bones; that his skin +was that of a tanned white man and his hair was dark with a white streak +over one ear. No, we did not notice the color of his eyes--the light was +not good and he stood well away from us. + +"We looked around for other men, but saw none. We asked him who he was +and what he wanted, but he gave no answer. He looked at us for a long +time, and we at him. Then he began walking away sidewise, watching us +steadily, holding his arrow always ready. Finally he disappeared among +the trees and we saw him no more. But we heard him, senhores; twice +before we lost sight of him he spoke out in a queer voice like that of a +parrot. And the thing he said was, 'Poor Davey!'" + +McKay thumped a fist on his chair. + +"Davey! David Rand!" + +"Perhaps so, Capitao. I do not know. But he spoke English." + +"By thunder! David Rand! Merry, where's that picture?" + +Knowlton was already unbuttoning his pocket flap. Quickly he produced +the photograph. + +"That the fellow?" + +Lourenço studied the face. The eagerly anticipated affirmative did not +come. + +"I cannot say surely. This is a full-faced, clean-shaven man with hair +close trimmed. That one's face was gaunt, covered partly with beard and +partly by long hair, and we were not close to him, as I have said. I +would not say the two were the same until I could have a better look at +the wild man." + +"You didn't follow him?" + +"No. Why should we? He had done nothing to us and we let him go his way. +We did look at his hollow tree, though. But it was only an empty tree, +not his home; a place where he had stepped in out of the storm. We had +other things to do, so we got into our canoe again and paddled off." + +"You can find the place again?" + +"Yes. But I much doubt if we shall find him there." + +"Never mind. We've something to start with now, and that's worth a lot. +Get busy with your boats and supplies, boys, right away. Tim and Merry, +let's dig out our essentials and start. We're on a hot trail at last. +Let's go!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +OUT OF THE AIR + + +Again the sun fought the mists of a new day, casting a pallid, watery +light on the livid green roof of the limitless jungle. High up under +that roof, more than a hundred feet above the ground, the morning alarm +clock went off with a scream, the sudden chorus of monkeys and macaws +awaking after a few hours of silence. Down on the eastern shore of the +river, in a little natural port where the shadows still lay thick, men +stirred under their black mosquito nets, yawned, and waited for more +light before starting another day's journey. + +To three of the five men housed under those flimsy coverings the somber +hue of their nets was new. On leaving Remate de Males the insect bars +had been clean white; and though they had grown somewhat soiled from +daily handling, they never had approached the drab dinginess of the +barriers draping the hammocks of the Peruvian rivermen. In fact, their +owners had been at some pains to keep them as clean as possible, folding +them each morning with military precision and stowing them carefully. +Wherefore they were somewhat taken aback when informed that nice white +nets were decidedly not the thing in this part of the world. + +"Up to this place, senhores, they have done no harm," Pedro said, before +leaving the coronel's grounds. "But from here on they will not do at +all. The weakest moonlight--yes, even starlight--would make them stand +out in the darkness like tombstones. A few days more and we shall be in +the cannibal country. And it is an old trick of those eaters of men to +skulk along the shore by night, watching a camp until all are asleep, +and then sneak up with spears ready. A rush and a swift stab of the +spears into those white nets, and you are dead or dying from the +poisoned points. I would no more sleep under a white net than I would +lie in my hammock and blow a horn to show where I was. Your light nets +must stay here. We will find dark ones for you." + +Thus the voyagers learned another of those little things on which +sometimes hinges life or death. Even McKay, with his experience of other +jungles, had never thought it necessary to drape himself in invisibility +at night. But when his attention was called to it he recognized its +value at once, and the white nets were forthwith abandoned. + +Now, on the first morning out from the Nunes place, the three Americans +stretched themselves in lazy enjoyment after a night passed without a +sentinel. The stretching evoked sundry grunts due to the discovery that +their muscles still were lame. The long steamer journey from their own +land, followed by the daily confinement of the Peruvian canoe, had +afforded scant opportunity for keeping themselves fit, and the sudden +necessity for doing their own paddling had found every man soft. But +they now were hardening fast, and the steady swing of the paddles was +proving a physical joy. These were men ill accustomed to sitting in +enforced idleness for weeks on end. + +Matches flared under the nets and cigarette smoke drifted into the air, +rousing to fresh activity the mosquitoes humming hungrily outside. +Gradually the shadows paled and the weak light reflecting from the +fog-shrouded water beyond grew into day. The nets lifted and the +bloodthirsty insects swooped in vicious triumph on the emerging men. But +again matches blazed, flame licked up among kindlings, a fire grew, and +in its smoke screen the voyagers found some surcease from the bug +hordes. Soon the fragrance of coffee floated into the air. + +Tim yawned, coughed explosively, and swore. + +"Fellers can't even take a gape for himself without gittin' these cussed +bugs down his throat," he complained, and coughed again. "Gimme some +coffee! I got one skeeter the size of a devil's darnin' needle stuck in +me windpipe." + +"A devil's darning needle? What is that, Senhor Tim?" inquired Pedro, +passing him a cup of hot coffee. When the liquid--and the "skeeter"--had +passed into Tim's stomach he enlightened the inquirer. + +"Ye dunno what's a devil's darnin' needle? Gosh! I'm s'prised at ye. I +seen lots of 'em right on this here river. He's a bug about so long"--he +stuck out a finger--"and he's got jaws like a crab and a long limber +tail a with reg'lar needle in the end, and inside him is a roll o' tough +silk--tough as spider web. And he's death on liars. Any time a feller +tells a lie he's got to look out, or all to oncet one o' them bugs'll +come scootin' at him and grab him by the nose with them jaws. Then he'll +curl up his tail--the bug, I mean--and run his needle and thread right +through the feller's lips and sew his mouth up tight. Then he flies off +lookin' for another liar." + +"_Por Deus!_ And the liar starves to death?" + +"Wal, no. O' course he can git somebody to cut the stitches. But the +needle is a good thick one and it leaves a row o' holes all along the +feller's lips. Any time ye see a guy with li'l' round scars around his +mouth, Pedro, ye'll know he's such an awful liar the devil bug got him." + +McKay coughed. Knowlton blew his nose into a big handkerchief. Lourenço +squinted sidewise at Tim, who was solemn as an owl. Pedro, his eyes +twinkling, bent forward and scrutinized Tim's mouth. + +"You have been fortunate, senhor," he said, simply--and stepped around +to the other side of the fire. + +"Huh? Say, lookit here, ye long-legged gorilla--" + +Knowlton exploded. McKay and Lourenço snickered. + +"It's on you, Tim!" vociferated Knowlton. "You dug the hole yourself. +Now crawl in and pull it in after you." + +Tim snorted wrathfully, but his eyes laughed. + +"Aw, what's the use o' trying to educate you guys?" + +"You swallowed a mosquito just now, but I cannot swallow that devil +bug," Pedro grinned. + +Tim rumbled something, solaced himself with a cigarette, then squatted +and joined the others in their frugal breakfast of coffee and +_chibeh_--a handful of farinha mixed with water in a gourd. When it was +finished McKay, who never smoked in the morning until he had eaten, +filled a pipe and suggested: + +"Guess we'd better plan our campaign. We didn't take time yesterday. In +case we find no trace of the Raposa at the place where you fellows saw +him, what's your idea?" + +Lourenço, puffing thoughtfully, stared into the fire. + +"There will be time enough to decide that, Capitao, after we have +visited that place," he said, slowly. "Still, perhaps it is best to make +some plan; it can be changed at any time." + +For a moment longer he looked at the dying flame. Then, dropping his +cigarette stub into it, he continued: + +"If I were going alone to find a man among the Red Bones, I should go +first to the Mayorunas and work through them to make sure of a friendly +reception by the other people. I would--" + +"Why, that's the very thing Schwandorf suggested!" + +"Yes? I have not heard what he said. Tell me." + +McKay did so. Lourenço smiled. + +"Sometimes, Capitao, the devil puts into the hands of men a weapon which +is turned against himself. So it is now. That _Allemao_, Schwandorf, +never expected you to reach the people you seek, but the plan is good. +It would not be good if you followed it exactly as he laid it out, but +things have changed; and what you could not do with Peruvian companions, +or alone, you perhaps can do with us. I will show you. + +"It happens that I have been twice among the cannibals living in a +certain _maloca_ which I can find again. Perhaps you know that those +people live in scattered _malocas_, each ruled by its own chief--" + +"Yes, we know about that." + +"Good. Now if we went to any _maloca_ where we were not known we might +be killed at once. But at that _maloca_ of which I speak I am known to +the chief and all his fighting men, for I once led them on a raid into +Peru. So they will remember me--" + +"What's that?" Knowlton interrupted, in amazement. "You led a cannibal +tribe on the warpath?" + +"Just so, senhor. It is a long story, but these are the facts: + +"There was in Peru a gang of killers, robbers--and worse--who called +themselves the Peccaries. They raided one of the coronel's camps where I +was in charge, killed all my gang except myself and one other, and used +us two as slaves and beasts of burden. + +"The other man died from poison. I lived only to revenge myself on those +foul outlaws. There was much rubber of the coronel's, worth much money +at that time, in the camp they had raided. So, after driving me like a +beast to their stronghold in the hills of Peru, they came back with +boats and Indian porters to get out that rubber. + +"On that return journey I tried to kill the leader, who was called El +Amarillo--yellow-skinned. I failed, and he had me nailed with long +thorns to a tree where I might hang in torment for days, dying slowly. +See. Here are the marks." + +All three of the Americans had noticed on the previous day that each of +Lourenço's hands was disfigured by a scar which looked as if a spike had +been driven through. Now he held those hands forward for their +inspection. Then he pulled off his loose shirt and rolled up his +trousers. They saw other scars in the big muscles before the armpits, in +the soft flesh under the ribs, in the thighs and calves. + +"The dirty Hun!" Tim grated. + +"That was not all, Senhor Tim. They also put fire ants on me, which bit +so cruelly that I nearly lost my mind from pain. Then they went on, +intending to have more sport with me when they came back with the +rubber. But after they left me two hunters of the cannibal tribe who had +been following a tapir's track found me and took me down from the tree. + +"Now the Peccaries before this had stolen some women from a Mayoruna +_maloca_ and were treating them like dogs--I saw one of those women +brutally murdered while I was captive in the outlaw camp. I managed to +tell the two hunters I could lead them to the Peccary stronghold and +give them revenge. They carried me to their _maloca_--I could not +walk--and told their chief what I had said. The chief caused my hurts to +be cured, and then I kept my promise. + +"I guided the savages to the outlaw camp; they surrounded it, and in the +fight that followed every Peccary was killed except their leader. Now +that cannibal chief has not forgotten me--" + +"Wait a minute," protested Knowlton. "Did that Peccary leader escape?" + +"No. He was kept alive until a big herd of peccaries was met. Then, +because he called himself 'King of the Peccaries,' he was nailed to a +tree, as I had been, and told to make the peccaries take out the thorns. +The wild pigs tore him into ribbons with their tusks." + +Calmly he donned his shirt again. Tim, staring at him, twitched his +shoulders as if a chill had gone down his back. + +"Ugh!" muttered Knowlton. + +"So now," Lourenço resumed, "if I can find that chief again--he may have +been killed in some tribal fight before now--he may be friendly to all +of us. Or he may not. Savages cannot be relied on with much certainty. +But if any of the Mayorunas will help us, he will. It is worth trying." + +"And if he is not friendly--" Knowlton paused. + +"We do not come back," Pedro finished. "Have you a better plan?" + +All shook their heads. + +"Laurenco's idea is excellent," said McKay. "I was thinking along the +same line, though I did not know he had any such friendly relations with +a chief. That makes it all the more advisable to try it, unless we find +the Raposa first. We, of course, will not land at the place where +Schwandorf told us to go ashore, seven days from here." + +"By no means," Lourenço concurred. "In five days we leave the river and +travel along the _ygarapé_. If we go to the _maloca_ it will be from +another direction than the river." + +He began preparing to travel. The others also went about the work of +breaking camp. By the time the canoes were loaded the mists had lifted +and the river lay open and empty before them. In the bush around and +beyond, gloom still lay thick and the forest life yelped, howled, +clattered, and wailed. But out on the water it was broad day, and far +overhead sounded the harsh cries of unseen parrots flying two by two in +the sunlight above the matted branches. The world of the pathless tropic +wilderness, ever dying, ever living, was about its daily business. The +five invaders were about theirs. + +As the paddlers dipped, however, Knowlton held back. + +"Say, Rod, we didn't tell these fellows about Schwandorf's Indian. Hold +up a second, men." + +While all rested on their paddles he spoke of the mysterious messenger +dispatched from Nazareth. Pedro and Lourenço contemplated the river, +then frowned. + +"That may be of importance, senhores," said Lourenço. "It may change +everything for us. We saw a lone Indian go past the coronel's place, +traveling fast, three days before you came. I would give much to know +where he is now and what word he carries. A short man with a bad left +leg, you say. We shall keep watch for such a man. Perhaps we may meet +him." + +Wherein he predicted more accurately than he knew. + +The canoes swung out and the paddlers settled into the steady stroke to +which they were growing accustomed. Hour after hour they forged on, the +Brazilians adjusting their speed to that of the Americans, who had not +yet attained the muscular ease of habitual canoemen. The miles flowed +slowly but surely behind them, the sun rolled higher and hotter, the +silence of approaching noon crept over the jungle on either side. Then, +as the time drew near when they would land for a more hearty meal than +that of the morning, Pedro pointed ahead. + +Up out of the bush on the Peruvian shore rose a vulture. It flapped +sullenly away as if disappointed. The bushmen, quick to note anything +that might be a sign, paid no attention to the bird's flight, but marked +with unerring eye the spot whence it had taken wing. + +"Let us cross, comrades, and see what we may see," Pedro called. "If +nothing is there, we can eat." + +But something was there. All saw it before they landed--the stern of a +small, speedy canoe almost concealed in a narrow rift at the bottom of +the bank. In the soil of the rising slope were the prints of bare feet. +And Pedro, scanning the tracks narrowly after he and the others reached +shore, asserted, "These were not made to-day." + +Up the bank they climbed, silent and watchful. At the top Lourenço took +the lead. In under big trees the five passed in file. A short distance +from the edge Lourenço stopped, looking at the ground. The others spread +out and stared at the thing he had found. + +Between the buttress roots of a tall tree was a crude shelter of palm +leaves. Before this lay the scattered bones of a man. The skull had been +crushed by a mighty blow. + +The bones were picked clean--had been stripped and torn asunder days +before, and the vulture which had just left had gotten nothing for its +belated visit. Among them were remnants of cloth, a belt and a machete, +and strands of coarse black hair. A few feet away lay a cheap "trade" +gun. Lourenço inspected the weapon and laid it back. + +"Did he shoot before he was downed?" asked Knowlton. + +"No. The gun is loaded. His death came from above." The bushman ran his +eye up the towering tree, then pointed to a large dark object on the +ground near by. + +"Castanha--Brazil-nut tree," he explained. "That heavy nut fell and +smashed the Indian's skull like an egg. Indian, yes. His gun, his +shelter, and his hair show that. And"--stooping and pointing at one of +the bones--"that bone shows who he was. See, Capitao." + +McKay looked down on a leg bone. At some time the leg had been broken +and badly set, if set at all. The bone was crooked. + +"A short Indian with a crooked leg. Schwandorf's messenger!" + +"_Si._ No man will ever receive the message he bore. He camped here days +ago. Now he camps here forever." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE ARROW + + +Slowly, silently, two canoes glided along the still, dark water of a +gloomy creek over-arched by the interlaced limbs of lofty trees. + +The first, propelled by the slow-dipping blades of two Brazilian +bushmen, seemed to be seeking something; for it nosed along with +frequent pauses of the paddles, during which it drifted almost to a stop +while its crew searched the solemn jungle depths reaching away from the +right-hand shore. The second, carrying three bronzed and bearded men of +another continent, was only trailing the leader. It moved and paused +like the first, but the recurrent scrutiny of the farther gloom by its +paddlers was that of men who saw only a meaningless, monotonous bulk of +buttresses and trunks and tangle of looping lianas. In this dimness and +bewildering chaos the trio might as well have been blind. The eyes of +the tiny fleet were in the first boat. + +The progress of the dugouts was almost stealthy. Not a paddle thumped or +splashed, not a voice spoke. They moved with the alert caution born not +of fear, but of wary readiness for any sudden event--like prowling +jungle creatures which, themselves seeking quarry, must be ever on guard +lest they become the hunted instead of the hunters. + +For the past two days they had moved thus. The last fresh meat had been +shot miles down the river, where a well-placed bullet from the rifle of +McKay had downed a fat swamp deer. Since that day not a gun had been +fired. The rations now were tough jerked beef and monkey meat, slabs of +salt pirarucu fish, and farinha, varied by tinned delicacies from the +stores of the Americans. Henceforth gunfire was taboo unless it should +become necessary in self-defense. + +At length the fore canoe halted with an abruptness that told of back +strokes of the blades hidden under water. McKay, bowman of the trailing +craft, also backed water, while his mates held their paddles rigid. The +two boats drifted together. + +"This is the place," Lourenço said, speaking low. + +The Americans, scanning the shore, saw nothing to differentiate the spot +from the rest of the wilderness growth. Yet Lourenço's tone was sure. +Pedro's face also showed recognition of his surroundings. With no +apparent motion of the paddles--though the wrists of the paddlers moved +almost imperceptibly--the canoe of the bushmen floated to the bank. They +picked up their rifles, twitched their bow up on land, and turned their +faces to the forest. + +"Stay here," was Pedro's subdued command, "until you hear the bird-call +which we taught you down the river." + +He and Lourenço faded into the dimness and were gone. + +"Beats me how them guys find their way 'round," muttered Tim. "I could +land here twenty times hand-runnin', but if I went away and then come +back I'd never know the place." + +"It's all in the feel of it," was McKay's low-toned explanation. "They +find places and travel the bush as an Indian does--by a sixth sense. +Take them to New York City, guide them around, then turn them loose--and +they'd be hopelessly lost in ten minutes." + +The others nodded agreement and sat watching. In the shadows no creature +moved. Afar off some bird cried mournfully like a lost soul condemned to +wander forever alone in the grim green solitudes. No other sound came to +the listeners save the ever-present hum of the big forest mosquitoes, to +which they now had become indifferent. For all they could see or hear of +their two guides, they might as well have been alone. Yet they knew the +Brazilians were not far away, threading the maze with sure step and +scouting hawk-eyed for any sign of danger. + +At length a long soft whistle sounded in the bush ahead. Any Indian +hunter hearing that sound would straightway have begun scanning the high +branches, for the liquid call was that of the mutum, or curassow turkey. +But the waiting trio knew it for Pedro's signal that all was clear. At +once they slid their canoe to shore, lifted its bow to a firm grip on +the clay, and, after plumbing the shadows, quietly advanced in squad +column. + +A few steps, and they halted suddenly and whirled. A voice had spoken +just behind them. There, squatting leisurely between the root buttresses +of a huge tree, Lourenço looked up at them in amusement. They had passed +within rifle length of him without seeing him. + +"Of what use are your eyes, comrades?" he chaffed. "In the bush one +should see in all directions at once. You were looking at that patch of +sunlight just ahead, yes? But danger lurks in the shadows, not in the +glaring light." + +Without awaiting an answer, he arose and took the lead. At the edge of +the small sunlit space beyond he halted. + +"You were heading for the right place," he added then. "Look around. Do +you see anything?" + +Swiftly they scrutinized the gap left by the fall of a great tree whose +gigantic trunk had bludgeoned weaker trees away in its crushing descent. +Seeing nothing unusual, they then peered around them. Tim suddenly +snapped up his rifle. + +"Holler tree there--and a man in it! Hey! come out o' there!" + +"Your eyes improve," Lourenço complimented. "But the man is Pedro." + +Tim lowered the gun as Pedro, grinning, came out of his concealment. + +"That is the tree of the Raposa," Lourenço went on. "The lightning +flashing in from above showed us the man. But now, senhores, I think we +must tramp the bush for some time before we find that Raposa again. +There is no trace of him here." + +"Hm!" said Knowlton. Striding to the hollow tree, he peered about inside +it. The cavity was almost big enough to sling a hammock in, but it was +empty of any indication of habitation, human or otherwise. A temporary +refuge--that was all. + +"No sign anywhere around here, eh?" queried McKay. + +"We have found none. We shall look farther, but I have small hope. If +you senhores will make the camp this time we shall start at once and +stay out until dark. Build no fire until we return. And if you hear the +call of the mutum, pay no attention to it; we may use it to locate each +other if we separate, and also perhaps as a decoy. Any wild man, red or +white, hearing that call would seek the bird making it, for a fine fat +mutum is well worth killing. Keep quiet and be on guard." + +"Right. Go ahead." + +The bushmen turned at once and stole away. The others returned to the +canoes, transported the necessary duffle to the base of the hollow tree, +made camp with a few poles, and squatted against the trunk to smoke, +watch, and wait. Several times they heard mutum calls receding in the +distance. Then came silence. + +The sun-thrown shadows in the gap crawled steadily eastward. Knowlton +tested the feed of his automatic, which, since its balkiness in the +fight with the Peruvians, he had kept carefully oiled and free from the +slightest speck of rust. Tim arose at intervals and paced up and down in +sentry go, eyes and ears alert--a useless activity, but one which +provided an outlet for his restless energy. McKay let his gaze rove over +the small area visible from their post, studying the contours of the +towering trunks, the prone giant whose fall had opened the hole in the +leafy roof, the parasitical vines twined about other trees, the thin, +outflung buttresses supporting the mighty columns--all familiar sights +to him, but the only things to occupy his vision. So limned on his brain +did the scene become that after a time he could close his eyes and see +it in every important detail. + +It might have been two hours after Pedro and Lourenço had departed--the +shadows had grown much longer--when over McKay stole the feeling that he +was being watched. He glanced at his companions and found that neither +of them was looking at him. Knowlton, sitting with hands clasped around +updrawn knees, was dozing. Tim, though wide awake, was staring absently +at a fungus. The captain's eyes searched the short vistas all about, +spying nothing new. Still the feeling persisted. Then all at once his +roaming gaze stopped, became fixed on a point some forty feet away. + +There rose a rough-barked red-brown tree, and from it, near the ground, +projected a blackish bole. McKay was very sure the protuberance had not +been there before. He had stared steadily at that tree more than once, +and its shape was quite clear in his mind. Was that bump an insensate +wood growth now revealed for the first time by the changing sun slant, +or-- + +For minutes he watched it. It did not move. Then Tim, restless again, +rose directly in McKay's line of sight, yawned silently, swung his gun +to his shoulder, and began another slow parade of his self-appointed +post. When he had stepped aside McKay looked again for the puzzling +bole. + +It was gone. + +With a bound the captain was up and dashing toward the tree, drawing his +pistol as he ran. But within three strides he went down. A tough vine, +unnoticed on the ground, looped snakily around one ankle and threw him +hard. His gun flew from his hand. As he fell a tiny whispering sound +flitted past, followed by a small blow somewhere behind him. Ensued a +gruff grunt from Tim and the swift clatter of a breech bolt. + +Raging, McKay kicked his foot loose and heaved himself up. Empty handed, +he continued his rush for the tree. But when he reached it he found +nothing behind it. If anything had been there it now was gone, and the +vacant shadows beyond were as inscrutable as ever. + +Feet padded behind him and Tim and Knowlton halted on either side. A +moment of silent searching, and Tim broke into reproach. + +"Cap, don't never do that again! If ye take a tumble in my line o' fire, +for the love o' Mike stay down till I shoot! I come so near drillin' ye +when ye hopped up that I'm sweatin' blood right now." + +In truth, the veteran was pale around the mouth and his broad face was +beaded with cold drops. + +"I seen more 'n one time in France when I felt like shootin' my s'perior +officer, but I never come so near doin' it as jest now. I had finger to +trigger and had took up the slack, and a hair's weight more pull would +have spattered yer head all around. And besides givin' me heart failure +ye let that guy git away. We'll never find him--" + +"You saw him?" McKay cut in. + +"I seen somethin' beyond ye--couldn't make out what 'twas, but from the +way ye was goin' over the top I knowed it must be a man. And then when +the arrer come--" + +"Arrow?" + +"Sure. Missed ye when ye took that flop, and stuck in the tree over +yonder. What'd ye rush the guy for, anyways? Whyn't ye drill him from +where ye was?" + +In the reaction from his sudden fright Tim was as wrathfully ready to +"bawl out" his captain as if he were some raw rookie. McKay, with a cool +smile, explained his abrupt action, meanwhile reconnoitering the dimness +for any further sign of the vanished assailant. None showed. + +While Tim stood vigilant guard the other two stooped and moved around +the base of the tree, narrowly examining the ground. Beyond it they +paused at one spot, fingered the soil lightly, and lit a match or two. + +"No ghost," said Knowlton. "Barefoot man. Didn't leave much trace, but +enough to show he was here. Let's look at that arrow." + +Back to the hollow tree they went, retrieving McKay's pistol on the way. +About a yard above the earth a long shaft projected from the bark. +Knowlton reached for it, but McKay held him back and drew it out. + +"M-hm! Thought so!" he muttered. "Poisoned." + +"Oof! Nice, gentle sort of a cuss," rumbled Tim. "That smear on the +point--is that poison?" + +"Poison. Quickest and deadliest kind of poison. Mixes instantly with +blood. Paralysis--convulsions--death. The least scratch and you're gone. +Wicked head on this thing, too: looks like a piece of serrated bone. See +all those little barbs along the edges? War arrow, all right." + +"Meanin' that we'll be jumped pretty soon by more Injuns. If that guy's +on the warpath he ain't alone." + +"Wouldn't be a bad idea to take cover," nodded McKay. Turning the +five-foot shaft downward, he plunged its head into the soft ground and +left it sticking there, harmless. + +"Tim, go down and guard the canoes. Merry, lie in between these roots +and keep watch off that way. I'll go over to that tree where the spy +hid." + +For another hour the camp was silent. Each in his covert, finger on +trigger, the trio watched with ceaseless vigilance, expecting each +instant to detect dusky forms crawling up from tree to tree. Yet nothing +of the sort came. Nor did any hostile sound reach them. Somewhere +parrots squawked, somewhere else the puppylike yapping of toucans +disturbed the solitude; nothing else. + +The wan light faded. The sun crawled up the trees, leaving all the +ground in shadow. Then, not far off, sounded the soft whistle of the +mutum. Suspicious, the watchers held their places until, with another +whistle, Pedro came into view, followed by Lourenço. + +McKay arose, met them, and briefly explained the situation. They nodded, +but seemed undisturbed. + +"We can start a fire now, Capitao," Lourenço said. "Night comes and we +are hungry. There will be no danger before another dawn." + +With which he leaned his rifle against a tree and started immediate +preparations for a meal. Pedro continued on to the canoes, made sure +they were drawn up high enough to remain in place in case of any sudden +rain, and returned with Tim. Around them now resounded the swiftly +rising roar of the nightly outbreak of animal life. The sun vanished. At +once blackness whelmed all except the little fire. + +"See anything while you were out?" asked McKay. + +"We found no trace of the Raposa," Lourenço evaded. + +"What do you plan to do now?" + +"Eat--smoke--talk--sleep." + +McKay eyed the bushman keenly, feeling that he was holding something +back. But, feeling also that this pair knew what they were about, he +bided his time. When all had eaten and tobacco smoke was blending with +that of the burning wood, Lourenço drew the arrow from the ground and +studied it. Then he passed it to Pedro, who, after a critical +examination, held it in the blaze until the deadly head was burned away. + +"A big-game arrow of the cannibal Mayorunas," said Lourenço. "The point, +with its sawtooth barbs, is made from the tail bone of the araya, the +flat devilfish of the swamp lakes. That fish, as you perhaps know, has a +whiplike tail armed with that bone; and if he strikes the bone into your +flesh it breaks off and stays in the wound, and you are likely to die." + +"But in that case death comes from gangrene," McKay remarked. "This +point has been dipped in wurali poison." + +"You have seen such arrows before, Capitao?" + +"Seen the poison before, yes. Over in British Guiana. The Macusi Indians +make it from the wurali vine, some bitter root or other, a couple of +bulbous plants, two kinds of ants--one big and black with a venomous +bite, the other small and red--a lot of pepper, and the pounded fangs of +labarri and couanacouchi snakes. They boil all this stuff down to a +thick syrup, and that's the poison. The man who makes it is sick for +days afterward." + +"Our cannibals make that poison in much the same way. Yet Guiana is many +hundreds of miles from here, and our Indians know nothing of those +Macusi people. Queer, is it not, that the same plan should be used by +savages thousands of miles apart?" + +"Rather odd. Must have started from some common source hundreds of years +ago and spread around. Queerest thing is, though, that a poison so +deadly doesn't spoil meat for eating." + +"Huh?" exclaimed Tim. "Mean to say them cannibals can kill us by +scratchin' us with a poison arrer and then stummick us afterwards?" + +"Exactly. You'd taste just as sweet as ever, Tim--maybe more so. Cheer +up! They say it doesn't hurt much to die that way; you're paralyzed so +quick you just sort of fade out." + +Tim shook his head, his abhorrence of poison strong as ever. Knowlton +spoke. + +"I've heard that this wurali poison is much overrated, that it will kill +only birds and monkeys, not men." + +"_Por Deus!_ Whoever said that was a fool trying to appear wise!" Pedro +snorted. "We have seen the poison death, and we know." + +McKay also shook his head. + +"Experiments have been made with the wurali of the Macusis," he stated. +"It was tried on a hog, a sloth--and a sloth is mighty hard to +kill--also on mules, and on a full-grown ox weighing almost half a ton. +It killed every one of them." + +A momentary silence followed. Tim gazed sourly at the arrow, now +harmless but still sinister. + +"Urrrgh!" he growled. "Cap, ye had a narrer squeak--come near gittin' it +from in front, and behind, too. Wisht I could have drilled that guy." + +The bushmen grinned. And Lourenço's next speech was amazing. + +"Be thankful you did not. That bullet might have killed us all." + +After enjoying their puzzled expressions a moment he continued. + +"We are nearer to a Mayoruna _maloca_ than I thought. Not the one I +intended to seek, but a smaller one. It is about three days' journey +from here, and to reach it we must go through the bush. The man who left +this arrow here to-day is from that _maloca_. + +"A week ago his brother went hunting, and he has not returned. So this +young savage and three of his comrades now are searching the bush for +some sign of him. To-day they separated, each going in a different +direction, agreeing to meet again to-night at a place less than half a +day's journey from here. This man circled around and worked along this +creek, knowing his brother would hardly go beyond the water. He spied +our canoes, then sought the men who had come in them and found you. + +"He watched you for some time, and if you had not rushed at him he would +have slipped away without attacking you, for he was alone and he saw +your guns. But when you, Capitao, suddenly leaped at him he darted away, +then stopped long enough to send an arrow at you. After that he dodged +out of sight and ran to the camp of his three friends. He is there now, +telling about you." + +"Great guns! You chaps are wizards!" cried Knowlton. "How do you know +all this?" + +"Because we met him while on our way back here. He was running hard, and +we heard him, so we blocked him. After we convinced him that we were +friendly we talked for some time--I can speak their tongue--and he told +us about you. He was sure you were enemies to him and his people, and +believed also you had killed his missing brother, and he was going first +to rejoin his companions and then hasten to the _maloca_ to bring all +their fighters against you. It was well that we met him in time. It was +well, too, that you did not shoot him--or even shoot at him. His +companions would have learned of it, and then--death for us all." + +"And now what?" + +"Now, comrades, we all go to the _maloca_ of that man. We meet him and +the other three to-morrow at the place where we talked to him to-day. I +told him we were going to visit that other chief whom I knew, and, +though he was at first suspicious of a trap, he finally agreed to lead +us to his own chief. So in the morning we march. Now let us sleep." + +Knowlton and McKay glanced at each other and nodded. + +"Luck's with us so far," said the captain. + +"Right. We just march right into Jungle Town with bodyguard and +everything. Pretty soft! Wonder if they'll turn out the tomtom band to +drum us in." + +Tim said nothing. He squinted again at the headless arrow, then +inspected the breech bolt of his rifle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE WAY OF THE JUNGLE + + +Dawn came, dismal, damp, and chill. Moisture dripped drearily from the +upper reaches, and under the dense canopy of leaves and limbs the gloom +and the fog together made a murk wherein the early-rising bushmen were +scarcely visible to the North Americans ten feet away. Yet day had come, +or was coming; the noise of the animal world left little doubt of that. + +By the light of a sullen smoky fire and oil-smeared torches Pedro and +Lourenço made up their packs, cording them roughly with bark-cloth +strips brought from headquarters. The Americans, after eating a more +solid meal than the Brazilians seemed to require, also rolled their +blankets, hammocks, nets, and other paraphernalia; strapped the outfits +into the army pack harnesses which they had transported for thousands of +miles and never yet used; crammed their web belts with cartridges; slung +their sheathed machetes down their left thighs; looked to their guns; +and announced themselves ready to go. + +While the northerners made these final preparations their guides slipped +away for a time. Pedro, on his return, announced that the canoes had +been concealed. Lourenço, bringing back the freshly filled canteens of +the ex-army men, delivered with them the marching orders of the day. + +"If you thirst, comrades, drink only from your canteens. If the canteens +fail, never fill them from flowing water unless the Indians also drink +from the stream. There are always small pools to be found, and, though +their water may be warm and stale, it is not likely to be poisoned, as +the streams may be. + +"To-day, and every day after we meet the cannibals, make no suspicious +moves. Do not speak harshly. Do not laugh or sneer at them. They are +unreasoning and easily insulted, and lifelong foes when angered. Let me +do the talking. + +"Do not hold a gun in a threatening manner or draw pistols unless you +must fight. Then kill. + +"Above all, pay no attention to their women. + +"Now we go. I lead." + +He turned and strode away into the fog as easily and surely as if +cat-eyed and cat-footed. Pedro swung nonchalantly after him. The others +followed in order, hitching at their backstraps. + +The ghostly haze about them now was paler, but through the interstices +overhead came no glint of sunshine, nor even the glow of a clear dawn. +The whole sky evidently was overcast, and around the marching men the +gloom still lay thick. Yet Lourenço's eyes seemed to bore through the +shades and the dark shroud blurring the trunks, for his steady gait did +not falter. The little file hung close together, for all knew that any +man straggling would be instantly lost. + +Worming around gigantic columns, crawling over rotting trunks long laid +low, changing direction abruptly when blocked by some great butt too +high to be scaled, sinking ankle-deep in clinging mud, the venturesome +band wound along through the wilderness. Repeated glances at his compass +showed McKay that the general trend of the march was southeast; but the +impassable obstacles encountered at frequent intervals necessitated not +only detours, but sometimes actual back-tracking. + +"Walk four miles to advance one," was his thought. And for some time it +seemed that such was the case. But then the ground changed, the light +improved, the trees thinned, and the undergrowth became more dense--and, +paradoxically, the rate of progress improved. + +This was because the smaller growth gave the two leaders a chance to cut +their way straight onward instead of dodging about; and cut they did. +Their machetes swung with untiring energy, opening a path through what +seemed an impenetrable tangle. Now every yard of movement was a yard +gained. But the ground was rising and the struggle up some of the sharp +slopes winded more than one man. + +Then the slope dipped the other way, and they slipped down into a ravine +where water gleamed darkly. Here a halt was called while the leaders +sought for a fallen tree. Tim squatted and mopped his face for the +hundredth time. + +"Gosh! This is what I call travelin'!" he panted. "Flounderin' round in +mud soup, bit to death by skeeters and them what-ye-call-'em +flies--piums--sweatin' yerself bone dry and totin' forty thousand +pounds, on yer back, not to mention hardware slung all over ye--this +ain't no place for a minister's son or a fat guy, I'll tell the world. +And this is only the start!" + +A call from Pedro forestalled any answer. The trio struggled along to +the spot where the guides waited at the butt of a slanting tree trunk +spanning the gulf. As they reached it Pedro walked carefully up the +trunk, carrying a long slender sapling, which he lowered and fixed in +the bottom of the stream. Then, steadying himself with the upper end of +this pole, he continued his journey to the other side, where he flipped +the sapling back to Lourenço. One by one the others crossed, slipping, +almost losing balance, but managing to evade a fall. Tim, walking the +precarious bridge and looking down, saw that the surface of the water +was dotted with the heads of venomous snakes. + +"Are you following your trail of yesterday?" demanded McKay. + +"No, Capitao. Yesterday we circled. To-day we go as nearly straight as +possible." + +"And you can find the appointed place by this new route?" The captain's +tone was dubious. + +"Certainly. Else I should go the other way. Come." + +Up another bank they toiled, and on through rugged country which seemed +momentarily to become higher and harder to traverse. In the minds of the +Americans grew suspicion that, for the first time, the Brazilians were +bluffing; it seemed impossible for any man to keep his sense of +direction in such a maze. But they said no word and followed on. + +At length the leader paused and sent the long call of the mutum floating +through the trees. No answer came. After a moment the line moved on, +each man peering ahead with sharper gaze, each holding a little tighter. +To the Americans, at least, the thought of possible ambush loomed large. + +Four man-eating savages, hidden in this labyrinthine tangle and armed +with arrows whose slightest scratch meant death, could strike down every +man of this expedition without even a wound in return; for of what avail +were high-power guns, automatic pistols, and machetes against invisible +enemies? Yet there was assurance in Lourenço's confident air, and +reassurance in the thought that these tribemen would be unlikely to +assail a band avowedly on its way to visit their chief. +Besides--Knowlton smiled grimly--even if the Mayorunas hungered for +human flesh it would be more economical of labor to let the meat travel +to the slaughterhouse on its own legs than to kill it here and carry it +home. + +Again the mutum whistle drifted away. Again no answer came. For a short +distance farther the file continued its march. Then, in a small opening +where the uptorn roots of a tree rose like a wall at one side, it +halted. + +"The place of meeting," Pedro said. All peered around. None saw anything +but the upstanding roots, the forest jumble, the misty serpentine +lianas. None heard any sound but their own hoarse breathing, the solemn +drip of water, the insect hum, and the occasional melancholy notes of +birds. The place seemed bare of life. Yet upon McKay came again that +feeling of being watched. + +Slowly, deeply, Lourenço spoke. The words meant nothing to his mates. +They were like no words they knew. His eyes roved about as he talked, +and it was evident that he saw no more than did the silent men behind +him. But they guessed that he said he and they were there as agreed, +with peace in their hearts, and that he was telling the men of the +wilderness to come forward without fear. And they guessed rightly. + +As quietly as a phantom of the mist a man took shape at the edge of the +tree roots. Tall, straight, slender, symmetrically proportioned, with +unblemished skin of light-bronze hue, straight black hair, and deep dark +eyes, he was a splendid type of savage. Face and body were adorned with +glossy paint--scarlet and black rings around the eyes, two red stripes +from temple to chin, wavy lines on arms and chest. He held a bow longer +than himself, with a five-foot arrow fitted loosely to the string and +pointed downward, but ready for instant use. Diagonally across his body +ran a cord supporting a quiver, from which the feathered shafts of +several arrows projected above his left shoulder. Around his waist +looped another cord from which dangled a small loin mat. Otherwise he +was totally nude--a bronze statue of freedom. + +Lourenço spoke again in the same quiet tone. The savage stepped warily +forward. At the same moment three other naked men appeared with equal +stealth from tree trunks which had seemed barren of all life. Like the +first, each of these held an arrow ready, but pointing downward; and +each moved with the slow, velvety step of a hunting jaguar. Their eyes +searched those of these strange men of another world who, wearing +useless clothing, carrying heavy weapons of steel, burdening themselves +with queer weights on their backs, now invaded the wilderness which they +and their fathers had roamed untrammeled for centuries. The invaders in +turn studied the faces of the Mayorunas, of whom so many gruesome tales +were told. For long silent minutes primitive and civilized man probed +each other for signs of treachery--and found none. + +Tim, forgetting the orders of the day, spoke out abruptly. At the gruff +jar of his voice the wild men started and raised their weapons. + +"Say, are those guys cannibals? I was lookin' to see some ugly mutts +with underslung jaws and mops o' frizzy hair, like them Feejee Islanders +ye see pitchers of. Barrin' the paint, I've seen worse-lookin' fellers +than these back home." + +With which he gave the savages a wide, unmistakably approving grin. + +"Shut up!" muttered McKay. + +Lourenço, unruffled, made instant capital of Tim's remarks. + +"My comrade of the red hair," he said in the Indian tongue, "has never +before seen the mighty warriors of the Mayorunas, and is astonished to +find them such handsome men. He says his own countrymen are not so good +to look upon." + +Slowly the menacing arrows sank. As the savages studied Tim's wholesome +grin and absorbed the broad flattery of Lourenço a slight smile passed +over their faces. They stood more at ease. The whites sensed at once +that, for a moment, at least, a friendly footing had been established, +and relaxed from their own tension. + +Once more Lourenço spoke, motioning toward the farther distances. The +Indian who had first appeared now replied briefly. Two of the others +stepped back to their trees and lifted long, hollow tubes. + +"What's them?" demanded Tim. + +"Blowguns," Pedro answered. "They use them for small or thin-skinned +game. See, the two blowgun men carry also short darts in their quivers, +and small pouches of poison." + +"Uh-huh. They like their poison a dang sight better 'n I do. Say, are +them guys goin' to march behind us? I don't want no poison needles +slipped into my back, accidental or other ways." + +Two of the savages were walking toward the rear of the line. Knowlton, +exasperated, snapped out: + +"They'll walk where they like, and you'll do well to give us more +marching and less mouth. You nearly spilled the beans just now, and if +Lourenço hadn't said something that pleased these fellows we all might +be in the soup this minute. Pipe down!" + +"Aw, Looey, I only said these guys were good-lookin'. Ain't no fight in +words like that." + +"You heard the orders this morning. Let Lourenço do the talking. That +goes! We're skating on thin ice--so thin that if it breaks we drop plump +into hell. Less noise!" + +"Right, sir," was the sulky answer. "I'm deaf and dumb." + +"March," added McKay. The head of the column already was on the move, +led by the tallest Indian and a blowgun man, behind whom walked the two +Brazilians. The whole line took up the step in turn and passed on into +the unknown. + +Again McKay consulted his compass at intervals, finding that now the +route led more to the south, though there still was an easterly trend. +After a time, however, the telltale needle informed him that they were +proceeding almost due east, and glances at the surroundings showed that +on their right was a densely matted mass of undergrowth. Not long +afterward another interwoven brush wall blocked the way, and this time +the leader veered to the west. Not until an opening appeared did he +resume his southward course. It dawned on McKay that the savages, having +no bush knives, were accustomed to follow the line of least resistance. +This obviously increased the distance traveled. + +The men of Coronel Nunes, too, perceived this. A halt was called, during +which Lourenço talked with the guide, tapped his machete, and evidently +protested against needless detours. The leader, with a few words, +pointed south. Lourenço nodded and replied. The march was resumed, and +when the next impenetrable tangle was encountered the Indians in the van +stepped aside, the machetes of the Brazilians flashed out, and a way was +cut straight through. From that time on the long knives came into +frequent play and a direct course was maintained. + +Suddenly, with a grunt of warning, the tall tribesman stopped. The plan +of chopping through instead of going around had brought the Indians into +a part of the forest which they had not heretofore traversed in their +search for the missing hunter. Now they stood in a small trough between +the knolls, under good-sized trees around which grew little brush. The +ground was soft, almost watery. In the damp air, faint but unmistakable, +hung the odor of death. + +The savages at the rear came forward at once. All four of them spread +out and, sniffing the air, advanced up the trough. A cry broke from one +of them. The others, and the white men, too, hastened to the spot whence +the call had come. + +Scattered about in the soft muck were bones, two skulls, bits of tawny +fur, a long bow, several big-game arrows. Around them the ground was +marked with many tracks. Most of the imprints were of the vultures which +had stripped the bones, but there were others--those of a barefoot man, +of a great cat, and of a couple of wild hogs. The peccary tracks went +straight on, but those of the man and the cat showed that a fierce +struggle had occurred. And one of the two grinning skulls was that of a +jaguar. + +The story was plain. The hunter, following fast on the trail of the +hogs, had suddenly met the jaguar. He had shot it; one arrow, blood +stained for more than a foot above the barb, proved that. But in the few +seconds of life left to it the animal had sprung and fatally torn the +man. Then, as usual, had dropped the black scavengers of the sky to rend +them both. + +Silently the men of the bush and the men of the north looked down at the +brief history written in the mud--a story only a week old, yet ancient +as human life itself--primitive man and ferocious brute destroying each +other as in the prehistoric days when saber-toothed tiger and troglodyte +hunted and slew for the right to live. And as it had been then, so it +was now. The living read the tale of tragedy and passed on, leaving the +bones behind them. Only, before they went, the Mayorunas threw the +remnants of the jaguar aside and piled the bones of their dead comrade +together in one place. Then, bearing with them his bow and arrows, they +resumed their way without a word. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A DUEL WITH DEATH + + +Rain came and went. + +The first night's camp of the strangely assorted company was a wet one, +for well on in the day the skies poured down the watery weight which had +been troubling them once morning. Yet even in such miserable weather the +four tribesmen of the Mayorunas declined to sleep in the same camp with +the whites. They accepted the food tendered them, but when it was eaten +they withdrew to some covert of their own to spend the night. Whereby +the whites knew that, though their guides now could no longer suspect +them of killing the lone hunter, they still were not accepted as +friends. + +"Did ye say them guys had a trick of jabbin' men in their hammicks at +night, Renzo?" was Tim's significant question after the Indians had +departed. + +"Have no fear," Lourenço assured him. "They have promised to take us +safely to their chief." + +"How much is the word of a cannibal worth?" asked Knowlton. + +"Worth everything, so long as you do nothing to make them forget it, +senhor. Being uncivilized, they are not liars." + +The lieutenant eyed him sharply, half minded to regard the answer as +insolent. But there was no insolence in the Brazilian's straightforward +gaze, and McKay laughed approvingly. + +"Well spoken!" was the captain's comment. + +"Among those people there are but two great crimes," Lourenço added. +"They are, to speak falsely or to be a coward." + +"Wherein a goodly portion of the so-called civilized world would fail to +measure up to the standards of these cannibals," McKay said. "By the +way, have you asked them about the Raposa?" + +"No, Capitao. It is as well not to put into their heads the idea that we +are hunting anyone here. I shall say nothing of that matter until we +reach the chief who knows me." + +"Good idea." + +With that the talk ended and all sought their hammocks, dog tired from +the day's travel. No watch was kept, for, as Pedro quaintly phrased it, +"We now are in the hands of God and the cannibals." Nor was any watch +needed. + +Daybreak brought sunlight. While the breakfast coffee was being boiled +the four wild men appeared silently and simultaneously, one bringing a +red howling monkey and another a large green parrot as their +contributions to the morning meal. Neither bird nor animal showed any +wound except a slightly discolored spot surrounding a skin puncture no +larger than if made by a woman's hatpin--the marks left by poisoned +darts from the ten-foot blowguns. When the meat was cooked they offered +portions to the whites, of whom Tim alone refused. + +"I'd as quick eat a rat killed with Paris green," he growled. "No +poisoned meat gits into my stummick if I know it." + +"Bosh!" scoffed McKay. "It's perfectly wholesome--though it's tough as a +rubber boot." + +"And I might tell you, senhores, that among these people it is an insult +to refuse any food offered you," added Lourenço. "I advise you to forget +about the poison hereafter and eat what is put before you, even if it +stinks." + +His advice was emphasized by the evident displeasure of the tribesmen, +who, though saying nothing, looked rather grimly at the man who had +despised their provisions. But Lourenço then smoothed over the matter by +telling them that the red-haired man was sick at the stomach that +morning--which, at that particular moment, was not far from the truth. + +Soon the triglot column was once more on its way across the hill +country, which hourly grew higher and rougher--a constant succession of +ridges and ravines. Lourenço, pointing out the absence of water marks on +the trees of the uplands, said that now the land of the great annual +floods had been left behind; for even the sixty-foot rise of waters in +the rainy season could not reach to these hilltops. With the entry into +this terra firma the travelers had also found the sun again, the dank +mist of yesterday having vanished. Nevertheless, the going was fully as +hard as on the previous day, because of the density of the bush and of +the labor of crossing the narrow but deep streams flowing at the bottom +of nearly every clove. Few words were exchanged, every man needing his +breath for the work of walking. + +As before, the keen machetes of the Brazilians opened a direct route +through all opposing undergrowth. When a brief halt was called at noon +the Mayorunas, who seemed to know exactly where they were despite the +fact that they had never before followed this straight course, informed +Lourenço that much circuitous traveling had already been saved, and that +by tramping hard until sundown they might succeed in reaching the tribal +_maloca_ that night. But McKay vetoed the idea of a forced march. + +"This gait is fast enough and hard enough," he declared. "No sense in +exhausting ourselves to save a few hours' time. Also, we don't want to +go staggering into the Mayoruna village with our tongues hanging out and +our knees wabbling. First impressions are lasting with such people, and +they might get an idea we were weaklings." + +To which all except the savages, who did not understand the language of +the white man, assented approvingly. + +Yet it was the Mayorunas themselves who delayed arrival at their +_maloca_--the Mayorunas and a monkey. When the sinking sun was still two +hours high, and while the leader was forcing the pace as if determined +to reach home that night whether the rest liked it or not, the monkey +upset any such plan. + +He was a big gray monkey, and he was high up in the branches of a tall +matamata tree, where he deemed himself safe from the many creatures +laboring along the ground below. Wherefore he chattered impudently down +at them and, as the tall Indian guide halted, showed his teeth +derisively. The savage grunted. The man behind him also grunted and +lifted his blowgun. But the leader growled at him and the blowgun sank. + +With a swift sweep of the hand the guide drew from his quiver one of +those long, poisoned arrows and fitted it to the bow cord, which he had +laid on the ground. With two toes of each foot he held the cord firmly +on the soil. His right hand lightly grasped the arrow and aimed it up at +the insolent primate. His left drew the bow up, up, into an arc. + +_Twang!_ the cord thrummed as his lifted toes released it. The arrow +whirred aloft. Then a snarl of chagrin from the marksman blended with +the grunts of his mates. The arrow had failed to reach the quarry. + +It had missed, however, by a mere hand's breadth--missed only because it +struck the limb directly under the monkey, where it hung by the tip from +the bark. Muttering something which may have been a Mayoruna +malediction, the savage moved aside a step or two, drew another arrow, +and set it to the cord with more care than before. But while he did this +the monkey was not idle. + +Chattering in rage, the animal leaned down, worked the arrow loose from +the bark, and threw it aside. The deadly shaft turned in air, then +plunged aimlessly earthward. At that instant all below were watching the +guide, who in turn was looking at his toes and placing the new arrow in +position. Unseen, the other missile hurtled down--and ripped across the +back of the marksman's left hand. + +For an instant the tall cannibal stood as if petrified, staring at his +cut hand and the shaft now sticking upright in the ground beside him. +Then, in simple symbolism, he reversed the new arrow and stabbed it also +into the dirt. Dropping his bow, he lay down on his back. + +"Yuara will draw bow no more. Yuara goes to join the spirits of the +dead," he said, calmly. + +Mechanically Lourenço translated the words. McKay sprang forward. + +"No!" he disputed. "Not without a try for life, anyhow! Merry, sling a +tourniquet! Quick!" + +Knowlton jumped to the side of Yuara, tied a handkerchief above the +elbow, twisted it tight. McKay whipped from a pocket a keen-bladed +knife. In one swift ruthless slash he laid open the arm from elbow to +knuckles. + +"Keep that tourniquet tight!" he snapped. "If the blood once gets past +it he's gone. Tim, get out the salt bag! Lourenço, tell this fellow to +breathe deep and keep it up!" + +While Tim burrowed into his pack for the salt, Lourenço spoke, as much +for the benefit of the other tribesmen as for that of Yuara; for the +three Mayorunas stood in ominous silence, watching the outrush of blood +caused by the knife of the white man. + +"The white man of the black beard, who is very wise, will save Yuara to +draw many a good bow if Yuara will do as he says. Let Yuara breathe +deeply, that the spirit of life remain in him to fight against the demon +of death. Even now the poison rushes out of the arm of Yuara." + +"Yuara cannot live," was Yuara's cool reply. "Where once the poison has +entered, there follows death." + +"Is Yuara then a coward, that he will die without a fight? Then he is no +Mayoruna, for no Mayoruna is a coward. Let Yuara die if he will. His +comrades shall carry to their _maloca_ the tale that, although the white +man would have saved him, he died like an old woman, because he had not +the will to live!" + +Fire shot into the eyes of the prostrate man. He ground his teeth and +struggled to rise and throttle the insulting Brazilian. + +"No, not that way," Lourenço went on at once. "Yuara can fight the death +demon only by drawing into himself the air in which is the spirit of +life. The wise white man has stopped the poison at the place where the +cloth is tied, and he knows the air spirits will help Yuara if Yuara +will breathe deep and long. If he will not, then the white man's +medicine cannot save him. Yuara's life or death is in his own hands." + +In his heart Lourenço had faint hope that the injured man would live. +But he knew the rest of the cannibal tribe must soon hear the tale of +this incident from the three now present, and he was preparing an +excellent excuse for the failure of McKay to save him. Whether Yuara +lived or not, the Mayorunas now would know that the whites had done +their utmost for him, and that very fact might make a vast difference. + +Yuara, though his eyes still flamed, sank back under McKay's restraining +weight and obeyed orders. After the first couple of breaths he settled +into his task and his chest rose and fell rhythmically. + +"Here's yer salt, Cap. What'll I do with it?" + +"You come here and hold this tourniquet. Don't let it slip! Merry, fill +this chap's mouth with salt. Lourenço, tell him to hold it as long as +possible, then swallow it. Now, Merry, fix up a good strong salt +poultice. The rest of you make camp. We've got a stiff fight on our +hands, and we can't go farther until we've either won or lost." + +The Brazilians glanced at the sun shadows and remained where they were. +According to their experience, Yuara should be dead within ten minutes +at most. Time enough to make camp when they knew how this venture would +result. The Mayorunas also stood fast and watched for the shadow of +death to blanch the face of their stricken mate. + +But the minutes dragged past and Yuara's eyes did not grow dim. His +first resignation over and his fighting blood aroused, he was battling +grimly against fate. At times his deep respirations were broken by +sudden gasps, and spasmodic quivers shook his whole body. But he +breathed on, paying no heed to the burning pain of his ripped and salted +arm. + +"By cripes! he's puttin' up a man's scrap!" blurted Tim. "Stay with it, +old feller. Ye'll win out yet!" + +And as more minutes passed and the wounded man still breathed, a murmur +of wonderment passed among the cannibals and the men of Nunes. Yuara +should be dead, yet he was not even paralyzed. Such a thing had never +before been known in this bush. + +Lourenço touched Pedro's arm. + +"Find a spot where we can make camp," he said. "I must stay here to +speak to the wild men if words are needed." + +Reluctantly Pedro went away. Soon he was back with news of a suitable +place. He found all bending closer over Yuara, whose breathing had +become stertorous and whose eyes seemed fixed. + +"Going!" was the bushman's thought. But the others would not have it so. + +"How 'bout a shot o' booze to jolt his heart, Cap?" suggested Tim, whose +whole soul was in the fight. + +McKay nodded. Knowlton quickly produced brandy and poured a stiff dose +down Yuara's throat. It took hold at once, and light came back into the +Indian's eyes. + +"Got a good chance yet," McKay asserted. "Don't loosen that tourniquet. +Let the arm mortify, if necessary, but hold that blood away from the +heart at all costs. I'll chop his arm off at the shoulder before I'll +give in." + +His hard-set face showed he meant it. + +Lourenço spoke to the Mayorunas, urging that camp be made at once. He +and Pedro strode away, and all three of the Indians followed. + +"Really think he'll pull through, Rod?" Knowlton asked, then. "If he +does you're a miracle worker." + +"It's an experiment," McKay confessed, watching Yuara with unswerving +intentness. "Never saw this done, but it's worth a try--and I honestly +believe it will work. I saved an Indian over in Guiana once by cutting +off his arm as soon as he was hit, but I want to keep this fellow's arm +for him if possible. Feed him some more salt." + +Time passed unheeded. Sounds of labor not far off told that camp was +being built. Presently the absent five returned, two of the Mayorunas +carrying a crude but strong litter constructed from saplings and +giant-fern leaves. McKay rose stiffly on cramped legs. + +"All right. You can move him," he consented. + +Carefully Yuara was lifted to the litter and transported to the new +camp. There the Americans found not only the open shed, or _tambo_, +usually constructed by the Brazilians, but also a somewhat similar +shelter erected by the Indians. In the latter stood two stout crotched +stakes, firmly braced--the handiwork of Pedro and Lourenço. And to +these, with tough bush rope, the Indians fastened the litter of Yuara, +thus forming a rude but effective hammock. + +While McKay and Knowlton continued their ministrations to the stricken +man the rest of the camp work was completed, the Mayorunas making +hanging beds for themselves from withes, leaves, and bush cord, and the +Brazilians slinging the hammocks of their own party and opening packs. + +Night fell and the wounded man lived on. Supper was eaten, pipes smoked, +the regular activities of the early hours of darkness gone through--and +Yuara lived on. His deep breathing had become automatic, and his eyes +stared straight up in concentration on his battle with the death demon. + +At length he was seized with violent nausea which convulsed him for a +time. But when the spasms passed he lay back more easily, and a faint +smile flitted over his face as he looked at the white men. + +"Been expecting that," said McKay. "Might loosen that ligature now--just +a few seconds.... Tighten it! All right." Alter watching the sick man a +little longer he added: "Now I'm going to eat and smoke. Feel like +taking a drink, too, but guess I won't. The Indian will pull through +now, I think." + +When he had returned to the Indian hut with pipe aglow, Knowlton asked +him, "Now tell us how you doped out this cure." + +"Combination of various things. Salt is a partial antidote to venom in +the blood, and I got it into him in three ways--by mouth absorption, by +the stomach, and by the salt poultice, which drew out some of the poison +from the forearm and helped neutralize what remained. Ripping his arm of +course let out a lot of bad blood. Ligature above the elbow stopped most +of the rest--though some sneaked past that point, I'm pretty sure. + +"Big thing, though, was the deep breathing. Remember I told you about +the experiments that killed mules and an ox? Another experiment was +this--opening the windpipe of a poisoned mule after the heart stopped, +inserting a pair of bellows, and starting artificial respiration. After +four hours of this the mule came to life and stayed alive--though he was +a wreck for a year afterward. + +"I just put all these together, made the Indian do his own +breathing--and here he is. I'm going to sit up awhile longer and watch +him, but the critical period is over. You chaps can turn in." + +But none turned in until midnight, when no doubt remained that +Lourenço's prophecy would come true--that Yuara would live to draw bow +again. Then, when the slashed arm had been thoroughly cleansed and +bound, Lourenço spoke once more to the savages. + +"The medicine of the wise white man and the air spirits have saved Yuara +from the death demon. Yuara has fought as a man of his tribe should +fight, and so has lived when he would have died. To-morrow Yuara shall +once more see his people, the first man of the Mayorunas to come back +from the death of poison. And he and his comrades shall tell of the +white man's wisdom, without which he now would lie cold on the ground." + +"So shall it be," Yuara himself faintly answered. "Yuara, son of Rana, +second chief of the men of Suba, will not forget." + +"_Por Deus!_" exclaimed Lourenço. "Comrades, this man is no common +hunter, but son of a subchief. Capitao, you have done good work to-day." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE CANNIBALS + + +Through the long, dim shadows of early morning the little column passed +on the last leg of its journey to the _maloca_ of Suba, chief of this +outlying tribe of the Mayorunas. At its head marched Yuara, his left arm +incased in bandages, his face drawn and pallid, his stride stiff and +springless, but still carrying his weapons and stoically setting the +pace as befitted the son of a subchief. He had had no sleep; he had lain +in the gates of death; his arm ached cruelly; yet a warm glow shone in +his hollow eyes as he reflected on the fact that in all the unwritten +history of his people he was the first man to survive the inexorable +power of the wurali. As long as he lived this fact would lift him above +the level of all his fellows. Even the chief could not boast of such a +superhuman feat. + +The undergrowth this morning was not so thick as it had been, and the +machetes of Lourenço and Pedro stayed in their sheaths. The ground, too, +was more level and the footing more firm. After some three hours of +walking the Americans found that they had come into a faint path. + +Somewhat to the bewilderment of the white men, who expected the Indians +to increase their speed now that the way home lay under their feet, the +leading pair slowed their gait. Moreover, they scanned the trail with +intent care and watched the trees along the way. At length, with a +warning grunt, Yuara stepped out of the path and began a detour. His +comrade and the Brazilians followed. The Americans stopped. + +"What's the idea?" demanded McKay, looking along the innocent-appearing +path. + +"Probably a man trap, Capitao," answered Pedro. "Follow us." + +"Let's see the trap first." + +Lourenço called to Yuara, who stopped and grunted two words. + +"_Si_, it is a trap. A pit, Yuara says." + +Yuara spoke again, and Lourenço added: "He says we must not touch it. It +is there just before you, covered so cunningly that it looks exactly +like the rest of the ground. The cover is a framework of sticks balanced +on a pole, and the instant a man steps on it it gives way. He falls into +a nine-foot hole whose sides are dug inward, so that they overhang above +him. There the cannibals find him and kill him. I fell into one of those +holes when I first came into this Mayoruna country, so I know just how +they are made." + +"So? How did you get out?" + +"There were two of us, and I stood on the other man's shoulders while he +lifted me high enough to jump out. Then I tied bush rope to a tree and +he climbed up the rope. Come. Yuara waits." + +After a short circuit around the danger point the party returned to the +path, and as they went on Lourenço explained further concerning the pit: + +"Every approach to the _malocas_ has this kind of trap hidden in it, and +others also. The Indians recognize the places by some secret signal +known only to themselves--a certain kind of stick or vine or something +of the kind, placed where it can be seen by those who understand. The +traps are made to stop any enemies who try to sneak up on the _malocas_ +and catch these people unawares. Another kind of trap is a spring bow or +a blowgun shot by a vine stretched across the path. Still another is a +piece of ground studded with poisoned araya bones which pierce the bare +feet of anyone walking on them. It is well for us that we now have +friendly guides." + +"Quite so," McKay agreed, dryly. + +Some distance farther on the leader again left the path, and this time +all filed after him without comment. Pedro pointed significantly at a +thin, tight-drawn bush cord stretched across the path at the height of a +man's ankle--the trigger which would discharge hidden death at anything +touching it. At another point, perhaps a hundred feet farther along, a +third and last detour was made, and this time the nature of the trap was +not revealed by anything on the ground. No questions were asked. + +With the passing of these three menaces Yuara resumed his former pace +and abandoned his circumspection. Before long came sounds of communal +life--the barking of a dog and shouts of children. Then suddenly the +forest thinned, and after a few more strides the marchers found +themselves in a clearing. + +Before them rose a big round house, about forty feet high and a hundred +feet in diameter, its sides composed of palm logs, and its roof a thick +thatch of palm leaves, whence smoke oozed lazily through an opening at +the peak. A single low door, not more than four feet high, opened toward +a creek a few rods away at the right. Near this doorway a couple of +naked children, boy and girl, were playing with the dog, while beyond +them a number of women, also nude, were busy at some kind of work. + +As Yuara and his fellow-tribesmen entered the open space the boy shouted +a greeting and started running toward them. Then, seeing the white men +filing from the bush behind the warriors, the youngster stood as if +shocked motionless. After one long stare he screamed and bolted for the +shelter of the _maloca_. Other screams echoed his as the women also saw +the bearded outlanders. They, too, dived through the doorway. + +Out from behind the house leaped three warriors, two of whom already had +fitted arrows to their bows, while the third--a powerful +fellow--clutched a four-foot war club. Weapons raised, faces contracted +into fighting masks, they stared speechless at the spectacle of the +subchief's son calmly leading gun-bearing whites among them. + +Knowlton, though his attention was riveted on the astonished warriors, +caught the quiet snick of Tim's safe-lock being turned off. + +"None of that, Tim!" he warned. "Put that safety on again. And don't +hold your gun as if you intended to use it." + +"Aw, I was jest tryin' her to make sure she was all right." + +"Put it on!" snapped the lieutenant. Another tiny click told him the +order was obeyed. + +Out from the doorway darted another warrior, stooping low to avoid +hitting his head. Others followed instantly, all armed and ready for +action. The opening was still vomiting tribesmen when Yuara and the rest +reached it. But none made a hostile move when it was seen that the son +of the subchief was in command and that the strangers seemed friendly. +Yuara spoke, briefly but authoritatively, and the weapons sank. Then, +with a word to his three companions, he ducked through the doorway. The +other three remained where they were. + +"We shall have to wait now, comrades, until Yuara tells his father and +the chief about us," Lourenço said. "So let us take off our packs and +rest." + +He set the example by laying his rifle on the ground, unslinging his +pack, squatting beside it, and coolly rolling a cigarette. Apparently he +was paying no attention whatever to the savages, who watched his every +move. But McKay, glancing at him as he followed suit, saw that, for all +his seeming unconcern, the Brazilian bush rover was keenly watchful and +that his gun lay within reach of his hand. + +From within the tribal house sounded the monotonous voice of Yuara. +After listening a moment Lourenço quietly addressed the nearest warrior. +A slightly surprised looked passed over the cannibal's face. He replied, +and a slow conversation ensued. + +Meanwhile the others looked over the array of savage fighting men. +Except for difference of stature, build, and expression, they were as +like as brothers. All were light skinned--hardly darker than the +river-tanned whites themselves; all had straight-set eyes, with no hint +of the slant often found among the Indians of the Amazon headwaters; and +the cheek bones of all were fairly low. Their average stature was a +little under six feet, and most of them had an athletic symmetry of +physique. Their feet, McKay noticed, were small and shapely. + +All wore tall feather headdresses of parrot and mutum plumes. All had +the scarlet and black rings around the eyes, the streaks from temple to +chin, the wavy design on their bodies. And each wore in the cartilage of +his nose a pair of small feathers slanting outward. At another time and +under other circumstances the white men might have smiled at those nose +feathers, which resembled odd mustaches; but as they studied the austere +faces around them they found no occasion for merriment. Nor was the +tension lessened by the sight of the weapons grasped in the strong hands +of the warriors. + +Great bows and arrows, such as the hunters had borne, were supplemented +here by the long clubs of heavy wood and by ugly spears. The clubs +terminated in balls studded with jaguar teeth. The spears were triple +pronged, each prong ending in a saw-toothed araya bone and each bone +darkened by the fatal wurali. Frightful weapons they were--the one +designed to smash skulls and tear out brains, the other to stab and +poison at the same thrust. + +Lourenço stopped talking, and the others observed that now the wild men +stood more easily, their holds on their weapons loosened. + +"I have shown them, Capitao, that I can speak their tongue, and told +them we go to visit the chief Monitaya as friend," he explained. "They +tell me Monitaya has grown great since last I saw him. Another tribe +which lost its chief and subchiefs by a swift sickness has joined his +own, and he now rules two big _malocas_ together. He is a powerful +fighter, and if he is friendly to us we have a good chance of success. +Ah! here is Yuara." + +The son of the subchief came through the doorway as he spoke, followed +by an older man whose facial resemblance and ornaments indicated that he +was the subchief himself. His headgear was more elaborate than that of +his men, and around his shoulders and down his chest hung a brilliant +feather dress, while a wide belt of green, blue, and black plumes +encircled his hips. Yuara himself had inserted feathers in his nose and +donned a headband of tall parrot plumes a trifle more ornate than those +worn by the ordinary fighters, and somehow the simple addition seemed to +transform him into a bigger, fiercer man. Also, his eyes now held a +smoldering light which had not been there before. + +The older man, Rana, the subchief, glanced swiftly along the line of new +faces. Then his gaze returned to McKay. His mouth set and his +countenance turned hard. He spoke curtly to Yuara, who replied with one +word. After another long, unpleasant look at McKay, who stared coldly +back at him, Rana grunted a few words and re-entered the house. + +Lourenço, nonplussed by the frigidity of the subchief where he had +expected gratitude or at least hospitality, glanced questioningly at +Yuara. But the young man stood mute, looking straight ahead. + +"The subchief says we shall enter and see the chief. We must leave our +guns outside." + +"Don't like that," muttered McKay. "That subchief looks ugly." + +"But we must obey or provoke a fight, Capitao. Besides, our rifles would +be useless inside, as they would be instantly seized if we lifted them. +So let us make the best of it. But I think you can carry your pistols +with you; they are covered by the holsters, and I do not believe these +people know what they are. And since Rana spoke only of guns, we will +keep our machetes. Come." + +"Wait a second." + +McKay dived a hand into his haversack and brought forth a heavy hunting +knife with a gaudy red-and-white bone handle, sheathed and attached to a +leather belt. + +"Brought this along as a present for some Indian who might do us a good +turn," he explained. "Been thinking of giving it to Yuara, but now I'll +pass it to the chief. Might make a difference. All right, let's go." + +With confident tread, but with some misgiving, the five advanced, +leaving guns and packs on the ground. One by one they bent low and got +through the doorway. Yuara, with a word to a clubman and a motion to the +equipment, followed the whites, trailed in turn by his three companions +of the forest. The clubman, after a curious inspection of the packs, +stood on guard among them, his bludgeon grasped loosely but +suggestively, ready to prevent any undue inquisitiveness by the rest. +But soon he found himself alone, for the other tribesmen transferred +their attention and themselves to the interior of the _maloca_. + +Within the house the soldiers of fortune halted a moment, adjusting +their vision to the sudden diminution of light. Except for the sunshine +pouring in at the smoke hole above and at the tiny door behind, the only +light in the big room came from small cooking fires scattered about the +place, and for the moment details were withheld from the newcomers' +sight. Then they found themselves in what seemed a labyrinth of poles +and hammocks. + +Through this confusion Yuara passed with familiar step, and in his wake +the travelers went to a central fire around which was a comparatively +clear space. Beyond, in a big hammock dyed with the symbolic scarlet and +black and tasseled with many squirrel tails, sat a fat, small-eyed, +heavy-jawed man whose elaborate feather dress and authoritative air +proclaimed him chief. Beside him stood Rana and another subchief, lean +and somber-faced. Behind this bulwark of tribal might huddled the women +and children, staring wide-eyed. As the visitors stopped and returned +the chief's unwinking regard the warriors packed themselves at their +backs, blocking all chance of exit. + +When the shuffle of feet had died and no sound was audible, Yuara began +to talk. In his deliberate way he told the complete narrative of his +journey, which previously he had sketched only in outline. His three +companions corroborated his tale from time to time by nods, and when the +discovery of the slain hunter's bones was described one of those three +stepped forward and laid the dead man's weapons on the ground before the +chief. As Yuara went on he touched his bandaged arm and pointed to McKay +and Knowlton. And as he concluded he motioned toward Lourenço. + +Ignorant of the Indian language, but guessing the nature of his talk +from his motions, the Americans stood patiently awaiting the next move. +For a time all three of the chiefs remained silent; but all of them +studied McKay, standing bolt upright with arms folded and the +belt-wrapped knife partly concealed in the hollow of one elbow. Though +it was evident that Yuara had given the captain full credit for saving +his life, the faces of the head men showed no sign of friendliness. In +fact, their expressions were distinctly ominous. + +At length the chief turned his eyes to Lourenço. The veteran bushman +promptly stepped forward and said his say. At the end he turned, took +from McKay the knife, unrolled the belt, and dangled the weapon before +the eyes of the rulers. They stared at it in obvious ignorance of its +character. Not until the Brazilian drew the blade from its sheath and +the glint of steel struck their vision did they show recognition. Then +Chief Suba grunted, his little eyes lit up, and he reached for it. + +For a few minutes he sat gloating over the gift, admiring the bone +handle, hefting the weight of the long blade, while the subchiefs gazed +in envy. When he looked up his face was beaming. But then the sour-faced +subchief at his left hand muttered something, and Suba's visage +darkened. His eyes rested again on McKay, went to the bandaged arm of +Yuara, dropped to his knife--the first steel knife ever owned by him or +any man of the Suba tribe--and rose again to the black-bearded captain. +Abruptly then he spoke out. + +Lourenço stared in blank astonishment. After a puzzled moment he shook +his head as if unable to believe he had heard aright. Suba, scowling, +repeated what he had said. Lourenço shook his head again, this time in +vehement denial, and began to talk. But Suba, rising with surprising +agility for a man of his weight, stopped him imperiously and spoke with +finality. Slowly the Brazilian nodded and turned to his captain. + +"I do not understand this, Capitao. But these are the words of the +chief: + +"'The white man with the black beard tries a trick, but it does not +deceive the free men of the forest. The thing which he thinks to be +hidden in his own heart is known to Suba and his chiefs. It is known +also to the chief Monitaya, and to his chiefs, and to his men also. The +white man is bold. And now his own boldness shall be his death. + +"'Since the white man has said he goes to visit the chief Monitaya, and +since by some demon's power the white man has saved the life of Yuara, +who is a man of Suba, the men of Suba will allow him to go in peace from +this place. But Suba will see that he and his companions go to Monitaya, +who will know how to deal with his visitors. The men of Suba will take +the strangers at once to the canoes and carry them to Monitaya. + +"'If the white man of the black beard and the black mind thought the men +of the jungle blind to the foulness he would do here, he is a fool. It +is useless for him or his men to lie and say they know not what Suba +means. Let him look into his own heart and he will know well. + +"'Suba has spoken.' + +"Something is wrong, Capitao, but I do not know what it is. It will do +no good to argue. Let us go at once." + +Suba snarled commands to the warriors. They trooped toward the door. +Without another word or glance at the three chiefs Lourenço stalked +after the Indians, and his comrades followed with stiff dignity. + +Outside, the savages picked up the rifles and packs and carried them to +the creek, where small canoes lay. The five strangers were allowed to +crowd themselves together in a four-man canoe, but their guns and packs +were distributed among four other dugouts, into which armed paddlers +entered. Other Indians brought provisions to the outgoing craft. In a +very short time the leading canoe started off downstream, followed by +the boat of the white men, behind which the other craft pressed close +and vigilant. + +They swung in among the trees, and the _maloca_ of Suba was blotted out. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +BLACKBEARD + + +"Well," said Knowlton, after a period of silent paddling, "we have met +the enemy and we are his'n. No harm done so far, though, and if old man +Calisaya, or whatever his name is, wants to act nasty we can send him +and a few others along the road to glory with our gats. We'll travel the +same road, of course, but we'll take company with us." + +"_Si_, senhor," Pedro agreed. "And besides your pistols we still have +our machetes. Yet I believe Lourenço's words to the chief Monitaya will +make all well. But I cannot help wondering--" He glanced at McKay. + +"I'm wondering, too, Pedro," said the captain. "It's hardly possible +that these people know why we're here, and hardly likely that they have +any interest in the Raposa. Lord knows I've nothing else up my sleeve. +It's a riddle to me." + +It remained a riddle to the rest, for no explanation could be gleaned +from the Mayorunas. At the first halt, which did not come until nearly +sundown, the Americans discovered that one of the men in the fore canoe +was Yuara, who had been lying in the bottom of the craft and sleeping +all the afternoon. From him Lourenço attempted to get information as to +the reason for Suba's enmity--but in vain. The tall fellow spoke not a +word in reply, and his face remained unreadable. + +Camp was made, and by Yuara's direction the packs of the adventurers +were restored to them. The rifles, however, remained under guard of +savages appointed by the subchief's son. When the night meal was out of +the way nothing remained but to seek hammocks and sleep, for further +attempts at conversation by Lourenço met with the same silent rebuff +from every cannibal addressed. None showed active hostility by either +look or manner, but it was plain that between wild and civilized men +stood a wall--a wall not too high for the jungle dwellers to leap over +in deadly action if occasion should be given. Wherefore the whites held +themselves aloof, said little, and slept early. + +"I am glad Yuara is with us," Lourenço said. "As he promised, he does +not forget what was done for him. He will keep this band in control, and +unless I am much mistaken he will tell Monitaya all he knows of us, +which surely will not do us any harm. At any rate, we can sleep in +safety to-night. And since it does no good to puzzle about what is gone +by or to worry about what has not yet to come to pass, let us sleep +now." + +"Ho-hum!" yawned Tim. "Renzo, ye spill more solid sense to the square +inch than any feller I seen in a long time. We're here because we're +here; to-day's dead and to-morrer ain't born yet, and li'l' Timmy Ryan +hits the hay right now. Night, gents." + +So, surrounded by man eaters, the trailers of the Raposa slept far more +securely than on any night down the river when their companions had been +supposedly civilized Peruvians. Whether a watch was kept by their guards +during the night they neither knew nor cared, since they had no +intention of attempting escape. + +They awoke to find the men of Suba diminished in number by half. Yuara, +deigning to speak for the first time since leaving the _maloca_, +explained that the absent men had gone hunting for their breakfasts. +Before long the hunters came straggling back, bearing monkeys and birds, +which were divided among their companions. None of this meat was offered +to the prisoners, who ate unconcernedly from their pack rations. Tim, +after watching the Indians sink their sharp-filed teeth into broiled +monkey haunches and tear the meat from the bones, snorted and turned his +back to them. + +"Look like a gang o' bloody-faced devils gobblin' babies," he muttered. +"I'll believe now they're cannibals, all right." + +So uncomfortably apt was his simile that the others grimaced and turned +their eyes elsewhere until the savage meal was finished. Then their +attention became riveted on a queer proceeding at the canoe wherein +Yuara had journeyed yesterday. + +To the gunwales amidships two of the men fastened a couple of small +crotched posts. In the forks was laid a pole, crosswise of the boat, and +from this, by slender fiber cords, four slabs of wood were hung. +Strolling down to the canoe, the travelers found that athwart its bottom +had been laid a crosspiece supporting two shorter crotched posts, +between which stretched another transverse pole; and from this pole in +turn the lower ends of the four slabs had been suspended. Now the +savages joined the tips of each pair of slabs by carved end sections, +and the contrivance seemed to be complete--a sort of grate, its bars +sloping at an angle of forty-five degrees. + +As the Americans eyed the arrangement in perplexity, one of the crew +picked up from the bow of the canoe a pair of mallets the heads of which +were wrapped in hide. With these he struck the slabs in rapid +succession. Out rolled four notes of astonishing volume--the first four +notes of the musical scale. Again and again he ran them over, then +stopped. The deep tones thrummed away along the creek and died. + +"By George! a big xylophone!" Knowlton exclaimed, admiringly. + +"It sure talks right out loud," said Tim. "Lot o' class to these guys, +at that. Bet this is their brass band, and we'll go rip-snortin' into +the next town like we was on parade. Oughter have some flags to hang up +in the boats, and mebbe a drum corps to help out. Wisht I had a tin +whistle or somethin' and I'd join the orchester. I can toot a whistle +fine." + +"My favorite instrument is the old-fashioned dinner horn," laughed +Knowlton. "But I think you're wrong--this is some kind of signaling +apparatus." + +"You have it right, senhor," Lourenço affirmed. "I have heard this sort +of thing used, though I never before saw the instrument itself. Those +notes will carry at least five miles, and the cannibals send messages by +striking the bars in different order. This run which we have just heard +is always used first, and no message is sent until a reply is received." + +"Bush telegraph," nodded McKay. "First call your operator and then shoot +the message in code. Pretty ingenious for a bunch of absolute savages." + +Lourenço turned to Yuara and asked a question. Yuara curtly replied. + +"He says, Capitao, that this is to tell Monitaya we come. But we now are +too far off for Monitaya's men to hear. The bars are made ready before +starting so that they can be used as soon as we are within hearing. He +says also that we start now." + +The Mayorunas already were entering their canoes. With cool deliberation +the whites gathered up their equipment and settled themselves for the +journey at whose end lay either life or death. The boat of Yuara +started, and once more the flotilla was on its way. + +For an hour or more it swung on among the forested hills before the +telegraph instrument was put to use. Then it paused, and the sonorous +voice of the xylophone spoke to the jungle. A period of waiting brought +no reply. + +The canoe moved on for a mile. Again the mallets beat the wood in the +ascending scale of the call. And then, faint, mellow, far off, sounded +the answer. + +While every man sat silent the bars boomed out their fateful news. Slow, +brief, deep as a bell tolling a dirge, a reply rolled back. And with the +solemnity of a funeral cortége the canoes once more moved on, unhurried, +inexorable, the measured swing of the paddles beating like a pulse of +doom. + +At length the crew of Yuara held their paddles. Yuara himself turned +toward the second canoe and talked a minute. A signal to his men, and +his boat proceeded. All the others remained where they were. + +"He goes to Monitaya to speak of us," said Lourenço. "He will return. We +have only to wait." + +"Yeah," grunted Tim, disgustedly. "We'll wait till night if he takes as +long to go through his rigmarole as he done yesterday. If I got to fight +I want to hop to it, not set round in the shade o' the shelterin' palm +while them guys are heatin' up the stewpot. This waitin' stuff gits my +goat." + +"You might sing us a song, senhor, to pass the time," Pedro suggested, +with a tight-lipped smile. + +"Say, I'll do that, jest to show these guys I don't give a rip. And +while their ears are dazzled by me melody I'm goin' to git me holster +unbottoned and me masheet kinder limbered up. Git set. Here it comes: + + "Ol' Hindyburg thought he was swell, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + He made the kids in Belgium yell, + Pa-a-arley-voo! + But the Yanks come over with shot and shell + And Hindyburg he run like hell, + Rinkydinky-parley-voo!" + +Under cover of his outbreak, which made the savages clutch their weapons +and glare at him in mingled suspicion and amazement, there proceeded a +furtive loosening of pistols and machetes. + +"A noble sentiment, and more or less appropriate," grinned Knowlton. +"But don't give them another spasm for a few minutes, or they may rise +up and kill us all in self-defense. They're on the ragged edge now." + +"Aw, them guys dunno how to appreciate good singin'. But I should worry; +I got me gat fixed now like I want it." + +Time dragged past. The Americans and Brazilians smoked and exchanged +casual comments on subjects far removed from their present environment. +The Mayorunas watched them with unceasing vigilance, as if expecting a +sudden break for life and liberty. Their chief had intimated that +Monitaya would kill these men; and now was their last chance to try to +dodge death. But neither the black-bearded McKay nor any of his mates +manifested the slightest concern. And at last the canoe of Yuara came +back. + +It came, however, without Yuara himself. The son of Rana had remained at +the _malocas_ ahead, whence he sent the command to advance. Closely +hemmed in by the men of Suba, the white men's boat surged onward at a +brisk pace. Around a bend in the creek it went, and at once the domain +of Monitaya leaped into view. + +Two big tribal houses, each considerably larger than the one of Suba, +rose pompously in a wide cleared space beside the stream. Before them, +ranged in a semicircle, stood hundreds of Mayorunas--men, women, +children--all silently watching the canoes of the newcomers. In the +center of the arc, like the hub of a human half wheel, a small knot of +men waited in aloof dignity, four of them adorned with the ornate +feather dresses of subchiefs, backed by a dozen tall, muscular savages, +each armed with a huge war club. Before all stood a powerful, +magnificently proportioned savage belted with a wide girdle of squirrel +tails, decked with necklaces of jaguar teeth and ebony nuts, crowned by +plumes which in loftiness and splendor surpassed all other headgear +present--the great chief Monitaya. + +At the shore, beside a row of empty canoes, Yuara was waiting. He +mentioned for his men to bring their dugouts to the regular landing +place, and when they obeyed he gave commands. Then he turned and walked +toward Monitaya. + +"I go," stated Lourenço, rising. "You stay here until called. Yuara has +told his men to leave all weapons in the canoes." + +He walked away after the son of Rana, and if any misgiving was in his +heart it did not show in his confident step. Halting before the big +chief, he began talking as coolly as if there were not the least doubt +of welcome for himself and those with him. Monitaya gave no sign of +recognition, of friendliness, or of enmity. Proud, statuesque, he stood +motionless, his deep eyes resting on those of the Brazilian. + +"Sultry weather," remarked McKay. + +"Just so, Capitao," agreed Pedro, narrow eyed. "We shall soon know +whether we shall have storm." + +"Indications are for violent thunder and lightning soon," Knowlton +contributed. "See those husky clubmen awaiting? Looks as if a public +execution were about to be pulled off." + +"Yeah. But say, ain't that chief a reg'lar he-man, though! No +pot-bellied fathead like that there, now, Suby guy. Hope I don't have to +drill him. I bet I won't, neither. He looks like he had brains." + +Hoping Tim was right, but dubious, all watched the progress of the +parley. Lourenço evidently was stating his case in logical sequence, +recalling to the chief's mind the time when he had led him to revenge +against the Peccaries of Peru, then going on to tell of the arrival of +the strangers and the object of their search. Yuara's sudden, quick +glance at him showed that the Raposa had been mentioned for the first +time. A little later his face became slightly sullen, and the watchers +guessed that Lourenço was now referring in somewhat uncomplimentary +terms to the treatment received in the _maloca_ of Suba. Soon after that +the Brazilian ended his speech. + +In a deep, quiet tone Monitaya spoke first to Lourenço, then to one of +his subchiefs. The bushman beckoned to his waiting companions. At the +same time the subchief stepped out and called two names. As McKay, +Knowlton, Tim, and Pedro arose and stepped ashore with the weaponless +men of Suba, out from the great human arc came two men. All advanced +toward the chief. And though the Americans were studying the central +figures as they walked, they also noticed that the pair of Mayorunas who +had been summoned were lame. One walked with a stiff knee, the other as +if a whole leg was paralyzed. + +"Squad--halt!" muttered McKay. A step and a half and the four stood +aligned and alert, two strides from Monitaya. + +The eyes of the chief dwelt long on McKay, and they were hard eyes. +Without shifting his gaze he grunted a few words. The two crippled +Indians stumped forward and stared into McKay's face. Through a long +minute the Americans felt a sinister tension grow in the air about them. +Then, slowly, the cripples turned about and faced their ruler. In the +tones of men sure of themselves, they spoke one word. + +With the utterance of that word the tension broke. Through the long line +of watching tribesmen ran a murmur. The clubmen relaxed from their ready +poise. The subchiefs glanced at one another as if disappointed. And the +stern face of Monitaya himself was transformed by a wide, friendly +smile. + +A sweeping gesture and the cordial timbre of the chief's voice told the +Americans plainly what Lourenço translated a moment later. + +"We are welcome, comrades. We shall sleep in the _maloca_ of Monitaya +himself and a feast shall be made for us. Our lives have just hung on +one word, but now that the word is spoken we are safe. I cannot tell you +more now, for I do not wholly understand this matter myself as yet--but +I shall learn. Now is the time, Capitao to give presents, if you have +any for the chief." + +"I have. But our packs are in the canoe, and I'll be hanged if I'll make +a beast of burden of myself at this stage of the game." + +"I will have all the packs brought up, Capitao. The men of Suba took +them from us at their _maloca_; now they shall restore them before all +these people." + +He addressed Monitaya affably, then spoke more brusquely to Yuara. That +young man, whose previous austerity now had dissolved into open +friendliness, uttered four words. Immediately his men returned to the +canoes and brought up not only the packs, but the rifles. + +From his blanket roll McKay brought forth a cloth-wrapped package out of +which he drew a half-ax, its blade gleaming dully under a protective +coating of grease, which he swiftly swabbed off. From his haversack he +produced a heavy chain of ruby-red beads. Under the bright sun the beads +glowed like living things, and the glittering steel flashed back a +dazzling beam. The two gifts together had cost considerably less than +ten dollars in New York, but to the chieftain they were priceless +treasures; and as McKay, with a formal bow, extended them to him, his +face shone with delight. Yet he made no such greedy grab for them as had +been displayed by Suba when tendered the knife. His acceptance was +achieved with a calm dignity which brought a twinkle of approval to the +eyes of the white men. + +In the same dignified manner he led the way to the _maloca_ which +evidently was the older of the two and which had always been his home. +The semicircle of his subjects broke up into a disorderly crowd which +streamed after him and his guests or surrounded the men of Suba with +holiday greetings. Within the tribal house the adventurers proceeded to +the central space where burned the chief's fire. There Monitaya ordered +certain hammocks removed to make room for those of the visitors. Soon +the travelers were seated at ease in their hanging beds, their packs and +rifles lying on the ground beneath them, while near at hand clustered +groups of Mayorunas, staring at them in naïve curiosity. + +Pedro drew a long breath. + +"Senhores, that was a very close call," he declared. "As Lourenço says, +our lives have hung on one word. What was that word, comrade?" + +"The word was, 'No,'" answered Lourenço. "Monitaya asked those two +crippled men, 'Is this the man?' As you saw, they looked at the capitao, +giving no attention to the rest of us. Then they said, 'No.' You will +remember that the capitao was the one whom Suba also picked upon. As +soon as Monitaya finishes talking with those men I shall ask him what +all this means." + +The big chief was giving directions to a score of young fellows, who +presently scattered to various parts of the house and accoutered +themselves for hunting. Thereupon Lourenço approached Monitaya with the +familiarity of former acquaintance, being received with a good-humored +smile. For a time the two conversed. As they talked the smile of the +ruler faded and his face grew dark, while into the Brazilian's voice +came a wrathful growl. Finally both nodded. Lourenço returned to his +hammock, frowning. + +"Capitao, it is all because of your black hair and beard. Through all +the _malocas_ of the Mayorunas, far and near, has gone the word to watch +for a big, black-bearded man who is neither a Brazilian nor a Peruvian, +but of some country unknown to these people; and when such a man is +caught, to kill him and his companions without mercy. And the reason for +such a command is this: + +"For many moons the Mayorunas, especially those of the smaller and +weaker _malocas_, have been losing women. From time to time sudden raids +have been made by gangs of gun-carrying Peruvian Indians and +_mestiços_--half-breeds--who shot down the defenders of the houses +before they could reach their weapons, and carried off girls. This, of +course, is nothing new here, for such things have happened occasionally +for many years. But within the past five years there has been a +difference in these attacks which has made them much more deadly. + +"These raids used to be made always at night, and they were few and far +between. But of late they have come about also in the day, at times when +almost all the men of the small _malocas_ were far out in the forest +hunting meat and the women had little protection. Several chiefs have +been killed by the raiders, who seemed to be acting according to an +agreed plan, to be organized for this work, and to know when to strike +and how to get away quickly. And what is more, the men who did this were +not chance parties who came only to get women for themselves and then +stayed away. The same men came back time after time. + +"A few of these were killed, but only a few; and all the dead were +Peruvians. Being dead, they could tell nothing. But the Mayorunas felt +that all these raids were directed by one mind. And they became sure of +this when one captured girl escaped by killing a Peruvian with his own +knife and returned to her own _maloca_. She said the raiders took her +and the other girls to the big man with the black beard, who waited at a +safe place a day's march from the tribal house. + +"A few weeks later another small _maloca_ several miles from here was +attacked at night while two men of Monitaya were there, having stayed +out too late on a hunting trip and taken refuge with their neighbors +until day. Both these men were hit and crippled by bullets in the wild +shooting that opened the attack. One was struck in the knee, the other +in the lower part of the back. But both caught a glimpse of the leader's +face and saw that he was the black-bearded man himself. + +"So you see, Capitao, why we have been near death. Suba and Monitaya +both thought you were the man. We were lucky to escape alive from Suba, +and still more lucky that hero were two men who knew the face of the +blackbeard." + +"Schwandorf!" barked McKay. + +"Yes, Capitao, it must be the German--" + +"I know it's Schwandorf! And I know his game! He's a slaver!" + +"A slaver?" + +"That's it. Knew I'd seen that sneak before. He worked the same game in +British Guiana eight years ago on a small scale. Had a gang of tough +bush niggers from over in Dutch Guiana to do his dirty work. Stole +Macusi girls--they're the best-looking Indians in B. G.--and sold them +like cattle to gold miners. Cleaned up quite a pot before the English +got on to him, but had to get out of the country on the hot foot--didn't +have time to take his gold with him. His name wasn't Schwandorf over +there, and he had no beard; he was thinner, too, and posed as a Russian; +but he's the man. Must have made his get-away by the back door--down the +Branco to the Amazon. Now he's running Mayoruna girls into Peru. He +could sell them to rubber men or miners and make good money, eh, +Lourenço?" + +"_Si._" + +"Sure. And that's why he wanted to kill off his Peruvians--they knew too +much; probably were trying to bleed him for hush money. He must have a +regular slave route and a gang of border cutthroats to do his +raiding--men who don't go downriver. Murderer, slaver--wonder how many +other crimes are on his soul." + +"Them two are enough," growled Tim. "And he 'ain't got no soul." + +"No soul," echoed Pedro. "You have said it, Senhor Tim. And if ever +these people capture him he soon will have no body." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +FEVER + + +In the _maloca_ of Monitaya a feast was in the making. + +Fires glowed all about the great room. Hunters came in, bearing birds or +beasts which were placed before the tribal ruler for inspection and +approval. Fishermen armed with tridents or crude harpoons arrived with +sizable trophies of their skill. And at length two young bowmen advanced +proudly with a freshly killed wild hog. After glancing at this the chief +added to his usual nod a few words of praise which made the huntsmen +grin with all their pointed teeth. + +Lourenço, squatting comfortably on a jaguar skin beside the lavishly +decorated hammock of Monitaya, carried on a lazy-toned monologue which +probably dealt with his various experiences since his last meeting with +these people and which appeared to interest and amuse the chief. The +others, lolling back in mingled fatigue and relief from tension, studied +the interior of the place and watched the activities around them. + +As in the _maloca_ of Suba, the small forest of poles and hammocks +seemed a higgledy-piggledy maze wherein was neither beginning nor end. +Yet, as the newcomers took time to observe it, they presently found that +the confusion was only apparent and that there existed an efficient and +orderly arrangement. The hammocks, seemingly slung from any available +pair of poles in utter disregard of one another, really were arranged in +triangles. On the ground under the hanging beds lay woven grass mats and +hides of the sloth and the jaguar; and in the space inclosed by each +trio of hammocks burned a small fire. The hammocks were the beds of men, +the mats and furs the couches of women and children, and each fire was +the focal point of the family residing in that triangle. + +Above the hammocks, from transverse poles, were suspended the weapons of +the men: the great bows, the long blowguns, the fighting spears whose +deadly points now were sheathed in thick scabbards of grass, the +unpoisoned fish spears and harpoons. From these poles also hung the +quivers of arrows and darts and the small rubber-covered pouches wherein +a little fresh poison was carried by warrior or hunter. Thus both the +ground and the air were utilized, and by the compactness of the +arrangement an entire family with its worldly goods, was enabled to live +in a comparatively small space. Looking around the wide room and +remembering the big half circle of Indians who had stood outside, the +two ex-officers estimated that in this tribal house and its twin dwelt +seven hundred people. + +Tim and Pedro, less interested in the Mayoruna domestic economy than in +the Mayorunas themselves, were scanning the figures moving about in the +reddish haze of smoke. Most of them were women, all nude and naïvely +unconscious of any need of clothing. Like the men of the tribe, they +bore the red and black rings and streaks on face and body; but, unlike +the males, each wore a facial ornament in the shape of an oval piece of +wood thrust through the lower lip. From time to time those near by +glanced up from their work and gave the new men unmistakably friendly +looks--particularly several young but well-grown girls who obviously +were still unmated. In fact, these last smiled openly at the lithe, +handsome Pedro, and red Tim was by no means overlooked. + +"I got me orders," said Tim, _sotto voce_, "and I'm danged if I crack a +smile back at them girls. But I sure feel like grinnin'. Watch yourself, +old-timer; they're tryin' to flirt with ye." + +Pedro, mindful of watchful eyes, turned his gaze to Tim's face before +allowing himself to smile. Then he laughed. + +"Do not fear," he said. "My heart is still my own." + +"Same here. Specially when I remember these females would grin jest the +same if them club swingers had spattered our brains all over the front +yard awhile back. But I wisht sombody'd give the girls a nightie or +somethin' to wear. I been around some and I seen quite a lot, but I +ain't used to bein' vamped by a bunch of undressed kids with goo-goo +eyes the size of a plate o' fish balls. I'm only a bashful country kid +from N'Yawk." + +"Live and learn," chuckled Pedro. "And clothes really have nothing to do +with modesty." + +"True for ye. Clothes is mostly a disguise, anyhow, specially with +women, and an awful expense, besides. These guys are lucky, I'll say; +they 'ain't got to buy their wives no fur coats or silk stockin's or +nothin'. All the same, I got all I can do to hold me face straight when +I see these li'l owl-eyes givin' us the glad look. I'd oughter stayed +back in Remate de Males, where a feller can wink at a woman without +gittin' all his pardners massacreed." + +"Perhaps it would not be fatal, now that we are guests of the chief. But +it is best to take no chances." + +"Safety first. That's us. Grin at one of 'em and another might git sore +because she missed out, and first thing ye know ye've started somethin' +without meanin' to. Let's look at somethin' harmless--one o' them +poisoned spears, f'r instance." + +At that moment Monitaya and Lourenço both arose, the chief to inspect in +person the progress of the arrangements for the feast, the bushman to +return to his companions with additional news. + +"Monitaya tells me," he said, "that his people have lost girls in other +ways than by the murderous attacks of the gunmen. A number of young +women who have gone into the bush near their _malocas_ to get urucu and +genipapa, which they use to make the red and black body dyes, have +disappeared. So have several who went to the creeks for their daily +baths. Warriors who tried to trail them have found the footprints of a +few men, but always lost them at water. The girls had been taken away in +canoes. Even this tribe of Monitaya, which never has been attacked by +night raiders because it is too strong, has not been safe from these +stealthy woman stealings by daylight. Three girls have been taken from +here within the past two moons, and others have disappeared from other +_malocas_." + +"Hm! And Schwandorf hasn't been here recently," said Knowlton. + +"No. It must be that he has agents who work when he is not here, or else +this is done without his knowledge. I have told Monitaya what I know of +Schwandorf, and he agrees that the women are taken as slaves. I have +also told him that when we return down the river we shall see that +Schwandorf troubles the Mayorunas no more." + +"Excellent," McKay approved. "Have you asked him about the Raposa?" + +"Not yet. It does not pay to hurry business with these people. After the +feast is out of the way I will talk further with him." + +No more was said for a time. The five lounged at ease, sniffing the +savory odors arising from the reddish clay pots and pans in which fruit, +fish, or fowl was frying in tapir lard, or meat was stewing. At length a +number of tall, shapely women, apparently the handsomest of their sex in +the tribe, laid a number of small mats in a semicircle on the ground +before the chief, and placed thereon a steaming array of edibles. Furs +were placed outside the line of mats. From somewhere appeared all four +of the subchiefs, accompanied by Yuara. Thereupon Monitaya, with a +smiling nod to his guests, squatted within the arc. Forthwith the +visitors advanced in a body, disposed themselves comfortably on the +furs, and assailed the viands with a vigor that brought a delighted grin +to the face of their barbaric host. + +Fried bananas, tender fish, broiled parrot which was not so tender, a +thick stew of somewhat odorous meat seasoned with tart-tasting herbs, +roast wild hog, and other things at whose identity the whites could not +even guess, all were chewed and washed down with generous draughts of a +rather sour liquid resembling beer. Remembering Lourenço's previous +warning, each man took care not to slight any portion of the meal or to +show distaste with anything, whether it pleased the palate or not. +Throughout the feast the tall women hovered near, bringing fresh +supplies whenever a dearth of any edible appeared to threaten. And when +at last the feasters were full to repletion Monitaya himself designated +what he considered titbits to tempt them further. + +"Gosh! if I eat any more I'll bust, and I'm danged if I'll bust jest to +satisfy this guy," asserted Tim. Wherewith he put one hand under his jaw +and patted his stomach with the other, signifying that he was filled to +the throat. Pedro lifted his elbows, dropped his jaw, and made motions +as if gasping for air. The chieftain grinned widely. The grin became a +chuckling when Tim, after a vain attempt to rise, lay back at full +length on his rug and begged some one to make a cigarette. + +"Guess I'll have to follow Tim's example," confessed Knowlton. And he +too stretched out. Pedro and Lourenço also sprawled back. McKay, after +glancing around, compromised with his dignity by leaning on one elbow. +The subchiefs and Yuara, with slight smiles, relaxed in various +postures. Monitaya alone arose--not without some difficulty--and got +into his hammock, where he beamed down at them. + +"Suppose this is a compliment to the chief," smiled McKay. "He thinks he +has eaten us helpless." + +"Speakin' for li'l old Tim Ryan, that ain't no joke, neither. Lookit all +the girls givin' us the laff. Who are them tall ones that's been rushin' +the grub? Waitresses or somethin'?" + +"Those are the chief's wives," Lourenço explained. + +"Huh? Gosh! he's one brave guy, that feller! Two--four--six--eight--nine +of 'em! Swell lookers, too. I s'pose he has his pick o' the whole crowd +here." + +"He does not have to pick them Senhor Tim. They pick him. He and the +subchiefs are the only ones who can take more than one wife. When a girl +wishes to become the wife of the great chief or of a subchief, she works +for months making feather dresses and necklaces and hammocks, and when +these are done she gives them all to him. If he likes her well enough he +accepts the gifts and allows her to be a wife to him." + +"Yeah? And she's flattered to death, I s'pose. Wisht they'd start +somethin' like that up home, or, anyways, fix it so's a feller could get +an even break. Way it is now, a feller blows in every dollar he's got, +and then when he's fixin' to git the ring the girl leaves him flat for +some other guy that 'ain't spent his dough yet. Yo-ho-hum! I'm goin' to +take a snooze right there on the table. Wake me up, somebody, when the +next mess call blows." + +And with no further ado he shut his eyes and drowsed. + +His companions lolled for some time, smoking and watching the family +life of the ordinary members of the tribe, nodding now and then to some +friendly-looking young fellow, but ignoring the mischievous glances of +the girls. Monitaya himself lay back in his hammock and dozed. His +wives, stepping nonchalantly among the strangers, cleared away the +remnants of the feast by the simple process of eating them. Then they +carried off the clay vessels. + +For another hour all hands rested. Then Monitaya sat up, stretched his +big arms, looked casually around the house to see that all was well, and +smiled down at his guests. Lourenço, rising to a squat, began a new +conversation. After a while he turned to McKay. + +"The Red Bones and the Mayorunas are neither friendly nor hostile toward +each other, and there is little communication between them," he +reported. "From those _malocas_ to the town of the Red Bones is a +journey of five long days, so the men of Monitaya hardly ever go there. + +"The Raposa whom we seek is known to the men of Monitaya, but he never +has come here to the tribal houses. Hunters from this place have met him +at times roving the wild forests, and some of the younger men fear him +as the bad spirit of the jungle. The Mayorunas believe in two spirits or +demons, one good and one bad, and the bad one is said to roam the +wilderness, seeking lone wanderers, whom he kills and eats; the people +sometimes hear this demon howling at night in the dark of the moon. So +the young men have thought the Raposa might be this demon and have +avoided him--it would do no good to try to kill a demon, and it would +only make their own deaths more sure and horrible. + +"But the older men do not believe this. They say the wild man is of the +Red Bone people, and that the reason why his bones are marked in red on +his living body is that he is neither alive nor dead. If he were dead +his body would be thrown into the water and left there until his bones +were stripped by those cannibal fish, the piranhas, and then the bones +would be dyed red and hung up in his hut, as is the custom among those +people. If he were alive like other men he would not have those marks on +his body, but would wear only the tribal face paint. The bone paint on +him is a sign to all the _Ossos Vermelhos_ that he is alive, but dead, +and is not to be treated like other men." + +"Crazy!" exclaimed Knowlton. + +"Yes. I think that is it. His body lives, but his mind is dead. Death in +life." + +"Has he been seen lately?" + +The Brazilian repeated the question in the Indian tongue. The chief +looked toward a certain hammock some distance off, called a name, raised +an imperative hand. A slender savage came forward. To him the chief +spoke, then to Lourenço, who, as usual, relayed his information. + +"This young hunter saw him six days ago while following a wild-hog trail +far out in the bush toward the Red Bone region. He came on the fresh +track of a man who was following the same hogs, and later he caught up +with that man. It was the red-boned wild man, and the wild man was very +lame, having a hurt foot. They stood and looked at each other, and then +the wild man walked away, watching him closely and ready to shoot with +his bow. After he disappeared in the forest this hunter heard a long, +shrill laugh and words that sounded like 'Podavi.'" + +"Podavi--Poor Davy!" ejaculated Knowlton. "That's he, sure enough! Then +he's near his own town now--he won't go far with a bad foot. We'd better +move as soon as we can. Ask about an escort." + +Once more the bushman conversed with Monitaya. The ruler's smile +disappeared. For some time he sat gazing out over the heads of all, +evidently weighing matters in his mind. When he responded, however, it +was without hesitation. + +"There is neither friendliness nor enmity between the two peoples, as +has been said," Lourenço stated. "Our business among the Red Bones is +our own affair, not that of Monitaya, and Monitaya will make no requests +for us. But in order that we may go safely and return without harm he +will send with us twenty of his best men. These men will have orders to +protect us at all times, unless fighting is caused by our making a +needless attack on the Red Bones. In that case the Mayorunas will do +nothing to help us. They will only defend themselves." + +"Fair enough!" nodded McKay. "Tell him we'll start no fight. If any +trouble comes it will be from the other fellows. We'll leave here +to-morrow morning." + +Lourenço translated the promise into Mayoruna. But the chief seemed not +to hear. His eyes had narrowed and were fixed on the face of Tim, who +still lay on his back and was giving no attention to what went on. +Following his look, the bushman gazed critically at the red-haired man. + +Tim's florid face had paled. His mouth was drawn and his eyes stared +straight up, wide and glassy. Slowly he rolled his head from side to +side. + +"Gee! Cap," he whispered, hoarsely, "I et too much. My head aches so I'm +fair blind, and I'm burnin' up. Gimme some water." + +With a swift, simultaneous movement McKay and Knowlton put their hands +on his forehead. Lourenço and Pedro leaned closer and peered into his +face. All four glanced at one another. Pedro nodded. His lips silently +formed one dread word: + +"Fever!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +FRUIT OF THE TRAP + + +Heavy hypodermic doses of quinine, aided by Tim's rugged constitution +and the fact that this was his first attack of the ravaging sickness of +the swamp lands, pulled him back to safety within the next two days. To +safety, but not to strength. Despite his stout-hearted assertions that +he was ready to hit the trail and "walk the legs off the whole danged +outfit," he was obviously in no condition to stand up under the grueling +pack work that lay ahead. Wherefore, McKay, after consultation with the +others of the party, and, through Lourenço, with Monitaya, gave him +inflexible orders. + +"You'll stay here. Stick in your hammock until you're in fighting trim. +Then watch yourself. Don't pull any bonehead plays that'll get these +people down on you. Take quinine daily according to Knowlton's +directions--he's written them on the box. If we're not back in a +fortnight Monitaya will send men to find out why. If they find that +we're--not coming back--you will be guided to the river, where you can +get down to the Nunes place." + +"But, Cap--" + +"No argument!" + +"But listen here, for the love o' Mike! I ain't no old woman! I can +stand the gaff! I'm goin' with the gang!" + +"You hear the orders!" McKay snapped, with assumed severity. "Think we +want to be bothered with having you go sick again? You're out of shape +and we've no room for lame ducks. You'll stay here!" + +Tim tried another tack. + +"Aw, but listen! Ye ain't goin' to desert a comrade amongst a lot o' man +eaters--right in the place where I got sick, too. Soon's I git away from +here I'll be all right--" + +"That stuff's no good," the captain contradicted, with a tight smile. +"You didn't get fever here. It's been in your system for days. You got +it back on the river. These people don't have it, or any other kind of +sickness. I've looked around and I know. As for the man eaters, they're +mighty decent folks toward friends. We're friends. You'll be under the +personal protection of Monitaya, and his word is good as gold. It's all +arranged, and you're safer here than you would be in New York." + +In his heart the stubborn veteran knew McKay was right, but, like any +other good soldier ordered to remain out of action, he grumbled and +growled regardless. To which the ex-officers paid about as much +attention as officers usually do. They went ahead with their own +preparations. + +"Be of good heart, Senhor Tim," Pedro comforted, mischievously. "You +will not lack for company. The chief has appointed two girls to wait +upon you at all times." + +"Huh? Them two tall ones that's been hangin' round and fetchin' things? +Are they mine?" + +"Yes. They are quite handsome in their way, and strong enough to help +you about if your legs remain weak. In that case you will probably be +allowed to put your arms around them for support. I almost wish I could +get fever, too." + +Tim's voice remained a growl, but his face did not look so doleful as +before. + +"Grrrumph! I always seem to draw big females, and I don't like 'em. +Gimme somethin' cute like them li'l' frog dolls in Paree--sort o' +pee-teet and chick. Still, a feller's got to do the best he can. Mebbe +I'll live till you guys git back." + +With which he availed himself of the prerogative of a sick man and +grinned openly at the two comely young women who stood near at hand, +awaiting any demand for services. They were not at all backward in +reciprocating, and, despite the tribal paint and their labial ornaments, +the smiles softening their faces made them not half bad to look upon. + +"'O death, where is thy sting?'" laughed Knowlton. "Be careful not to +strain your heart while we're away, Tim." + +"Don't worry. It's a tough old heart--been kicked round so much it's +growed a shell like a turtle. Besides, I seen wild women before I ever +come to the jungle." + +Notwithstanding his apparent resignation, however, Tim erupted once more +when his comrades shouldered their packs, picked up their guns, and +spoke their thanks and good-by to Monitaya. He arose on shaky legs and +desperately offered to prove his fitness by a barehanded six-round bout +with his commanding officer. When McKay, with sympathetic eyes but gruff +tones, peremptorily squelched him he insisted on at least going to the +door to watch his comrades start the journey from which they might or +might not return. Nor did he take advantage of his chance to hug the +girls on the way. + +With one arm slung over the shoulders of a wiry young warrior who +grinned proudly at the honor of being selected to help a guest of the +great chief, he followed the departing column out into the sunshine, +where the entire tribe was assembled. And when the stalwart band had +filed into the shadows of the trees and vanished he stood for a time +unseeing and gulping at something in his throat. + +Straight away along a vague path beginning at the rear of the _malocas_ +marched the twenty-four, the two northerners bending under the weight of +their packs, the pair of Brazilians sweeping the jungle with practiced +eyes, the score of Mayorunas striding velvet footed, resplendent in +brilliant new paint and headdresses, armed with the most powerful +weapons of their tribe, and loftily conscious of the fact that they were +chosen as Monitaya's best. Savage and civilized, each man was fit, +alert, formidable. Nowhere in the loosely joined chain was a weak link. + +Before the departure the Americans had been at some trouble to rid +themselves of Yuara, who, with his men, had tarried at the Monitaya +_malocas_ during Tim's sickness. While Knowlton was giving his ripped +arm a final dressing he had calmly announced his intention of joining +the expedition into the Red Bone country, and it had taken some skillful +argument by Lourenço to dissuade him without arousing his anger. All +four of the adventurers would gladly have taken him along had he not +been hampered by his injury, but, under the ruthless rule barring all +men not in possession of all their strength, he had to be left. + +Now, as on the previous jungle marches, the way was led by two of the +tribesmen, followed by the Brazilians and the Americans, after whom the +main body of the escort strode in column. The leader and guide, one +Tucu, was a veteran hunter, fighter, and bushranger, who had been more +than once in the Red Bone region and withal possessed the cool judgment +of mature years and long experience; a lean, silent man who, though not +a subchief, might have made a good one if given the opportunity. With +him Lourenço had already arranged that a direct course should be +followed, and that whenever dense undergrowth blockaded the way the +machete men should take the lead. + +For some time no word was spoken. The path wound on, faintly marked, but +easy enough to follow with Tucu picking it out. It was not one of the +frequently used trails of the Monitaya people, but a mere _picada_, or +hunter's track; yet even this had its pitfalls to guard the tribal +house. Soon after leaving the clearing Tucu turned aside, passed between +trees off the trail, went directly under one tree whose steep-slanting +roots stood up off the ground like great down-pointing fingers, and +returned to the path. All followed without comment. + +A considerable distance was covered before any further sign of the +presence of ambushed death was shown by the savages. Then it came with +tragic suddenness. + +Tucu grunted suddenly, and in one instant shifted his gait from the easy +swing of the march to the prowl of a hunting animal. Behind him the line +grew tense. The click of rifle hammers and of safeties being thrown off +breech bolts blended with the faint slither of arrows being swiftly +drawn from quivers. Eyes searched the bush, spying no enemy. + +Two more steps, and Tucu stopped, head thrust forward, eyes boring into +something on the ground. The rest, taking care not to touch one +another's weapons, crowded around and looked down at the huddled form of +a man. + +A matted mass of black hair, a neck burned copper brown by sun, tattered +cotton shirt and trousers, big, bare dirty feet, a rusty repeating rifle +of heavy caliber--these were what they saw first. The man lay straight, +his face in the dirt, his hands a little ahead as if he had been +crawling forward at the moment of death. Tucu turned him on his back, +revealing a blanched yellow-brown face which was proof positive of his +race. + +"Peruvian," said Pedro. + +"What got him?" demanded Knowlton. "No wound on him." + +Lourenço questioned Tucu. The leader, who evidently knew just where to +look, tore open the thin shirt at the left side and pointed to a tiny +discoloration surrounding a red dot under the ribs. He muttered a few +laconic words. + +"A blowgun trap," Lourenço explained. "The gun is set a little way +beyond here. This man, sneaking along the path, broke the little cord +which shot the gun. The poisoned dart struck in his side. He must have +pulled out the dart, but he could not go far before his legs became +paralyzed, and he fell. Then, still trying to crawl, he died." + +Pedro picked up the dead man's gun and worked the lever. The weapon was +fully loaded and showed no sign of recent firing. Pedro coolly pumped it +empty, gathered up the blunt .44 cartridges, and pocketed them for his +own use. + +Tucu watched the proceeding in satirical approval. Then, leaving the +body where it lay, he went stooping along the path ahead, his keen eyes +searching the undergrowth. In a few minutes he returned with the +blood-stained dart which, as Lourenço had guessed, the stricken prowler +had pulled from his flesh and dropped. This he passed to a blowgun man. +The latter carefully opened his poison pouch, redipped the point of the +dart, held it a moment to dry in a shaft of sunlight, and slipped it +into his dart case among a score of unused missiles. + +"No waste of ammunition here," was McKay's dry comment. "What happens to +this corpse now?" + +Through Lourenço's mouth Tucu answered. + +"It will be left here until police warriors come from the _malocas_. +Certain men travel the paths daily to inspect the traps. When they find +this man they will cut off his hands and feet with their wooden knives +and throw the rest aside to be eaten by the animals. He has not been +dead long or he would have been devoured by some wild thing before we +came. The trail travelers will set the trap again and take the hands and +feet to the _malocas_, where they will be washed, cooked, and eaten." + +The faces of the Americans contracted slightly. A simultaneous thought +made them flash startled glances at each other. + +"Tim--" Knowlton said, and paused. Lourenço smiled. + +"No, Senhor Tim will not be expected to eat man meat," he assured them. +"I thought of that before we left--one never knows when these traps will +yield human flesh. So, without letting Monitaya know why I spoke, I told +him you North Americans believed the flesh of an enemy to be poisonous, +and that you would not eat it on that account. Monitaya will remember +that." + +"By George! you have a head on your shoulders, old scout! I was worried +for a minute. If they offered Tim a broiled foot or a stewed hand he'd +go for his gun." + +Briefly Tucu spoke. The Mayorunas separated and went into the forest, +seeking any sign of other enemies. + +"Queer that this chap should come here alone--if he was alone," added +Knowlton. "Suppose he's the fellow that's been swiping stray girls? Or a +spy?" + +"Neither, I think, senhor. The girls were captured by more than one man, +and I doubt if this one had been here before. Probably he was one of +those lone prowlers of the bush whose hand is against every man. He is a +half-breed, as you see, and came, perhaps, to steal a girl for himself. +The jungle is well rid of him." + +"Uh-huh. Guess you're right. Say, I'd like to see how that blowgun trap +operates. Can't understand what blows the dart when nobody is here." + +"I do not know, either, senhor. Perhaps Tucu will show us." + +The savage guide, after a moment's hesitation, pointed along the trail +and stalked away, the others at his heels. At a spot some fifteen yards +farther on he turned into the bush at the right, walked a few paces away +from the path, turned again sharply to the left, advanced once more, and +halted. Before them, not easy to discern in the masking brush, even +though they were looking for it, hung the long barrel of the blowgun, +lashed to a couple of small trees and pointing toward the path. + +Tucu stepped to the mouthpiece of the slender tube and pointed to a +sapling, just behind and in line with it, which had been cut off about +shoulder-high from the ground. From the tip of this thin trunk dangled a +wide strip of bark. The savage, having indicated this, stood as if the +action of the device were perfectly clear. + +"Too deep for me," admitted McKay, after a puzzled study of the tube and +the trunk. The others nodded agreement. Lourenço confessed to the Indian +the blindness of all. + +Thereupon Tucu bent the sapling far over and released it. As it sprang +erect the bark strip slapped the end of the gun. Also, the watchers saw +something hitherto unnoticed--a thin, flexible vine attached to the top +of the thin stump. Lourenço's face showed understanding. + +"See, comrades, this is it: The little tree is bent far down and held by +the long vine. The vine passes around a low branch, then up over other +limbs, and out across the path, where it is fastened to a root near the +ground. A man following the path breaks the vine. The little tree then +flies up and the bark sheet strikes the wide mouthpiece of the gun. The +air forced into that mouthpiece by the blow of the bark shoots the +little dart. The dart does not fly as hard as if blown by a man, but it +goes swiftly enough to pierce the skin of anything except a tapir. As +soon as the poison is in the blood the work is done." + +"It sure is done," Knowlton echoed, thinking of the short distance +covered by the dead Peruvian after passing this spot. "Mighty ingenious +apparatus. These people are no fools, I'll say." + +"You say rightly," Pedro muttered. Turning, they went out to the path, +looking askance at the thin death tube as they passed along it. + +The scouting Mayorunas returned, having found nothing. Tucu resumed his +place at the head of the line. Without a backward glance at the body +sprawling in the trail at the rear, the column swung into its usual +gait. + +The Americans, silent before, were silent again. They had looked for the +first time on the work of the Mayoruna traps; had observed the +cold-blooded way in which the Indiana handled the still form on the +ground; had visualized the forthcoming mutilation of that body and the +resultant cannibal rites. More vividly than ever before they realized +that these men and Monitaya himself were relentless creatures of the +jungle, and that, despite the present existent friendliness, there +yawned between them and their barbarous allies an impassable gulf. + +For the moment the jungle itself seemed a poisonous green abyss of +creeping, crawling, sneaking death. And though they had faced death too +often in another land to fear it in any form, though they marched on +with unwavering step, their eyes were somber as in their hearts echoed +the last appeal of the man they had left behind them: + +"Ye ain't goin' to desert a comrade amongst a lot o' man eaters--" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE RED BONES + + +Four days the expedition tramped steadily onward through the rugged +labyrinthine hills. Four nights its members slept in utter exhaustion. +Neither by day nor by night was any sign of the Raposa seen, nor of any +other human being. + +So tired from the constant struggle did the Americans become that their +jaded brains began to picture the mysterious wild man as a mere +legendary creature, which they never would find even though they +searched the inscrutable forests until the end of time. Yet when, on the +fifth day, Tucu informed them that they now were nearing the principal +settlement of the Red Bones, the announcement cheered them as if they +were about to enter a civilized city and there meet David Rand safe and +sane. + +Not that any chance of striking his trail had been neglected in the +meantime. It was thoroughly understood that if he were met anywhere he +was to be made prisoner, and that thereafter the back trail should be +taken. Lourenço had impressed on Tucu the fact that the whole journey +had for its object the finding of the wild man, and that he must not be +killed if found. Since the Indians were not in the habit of hunting so +assiduously anyone but a bitterly hated foe, it is quite possible that +they misunderstood the spirit of the quest and believed the "dead-alive" +prowler would, if captured, undergo some extremely unpleasant treatment +at the hands of the white men. But so long as it was made clear that the +Raposa must be caught alive, if caught at all, Lourenço did not trouble +about what the Mayorunas might surmise. + +Now, as the end of the long, pathless trail approached, arose a question +of which McKay had previously thought but had not spoken--how he was to +converse with the Red Bone chief. Lourenço asked Tucu whether the Red +Bones spoke the Mayoruna tongue. Tucu replied that they did not. He +added, however, that the languages were not so dissimilar as to prevent +some sort of understanding being reached between members of the two +tribes. The veteran bushman nodded carelessly. + +"When the tongue fails, Capitao, the hands still can talk," he said. "It +takes more time and work, that is all. Ah, here is a path!" + +It was so. For the first time since leaving the Monitaya region a path +lay under their feet. And for the first time Tucu and his fellow +Mayorunas, glancing along that faint track, showed hesitation. + +"Why the delay?" snapped McKay. + +"They suspect traps. I will go ahead and feel out the way. I have done +it before on other paths." + +After a few words to Tucu, Lourenço cut a long, slim pole. With this in +hand he preceded the column, walking slowly, pausing sometimes, +continually prodding the path, studying it with unswerving gaze as he +progressed. The thin but rigid feeler, strong enough to tip the cover of +any pit or to spring any concealed bow or blowgun, was at least ten feet +long, and between the scout and the head of the line Tucu preserved +another ten-foot interval. Progress was necessarily slow, but it was +sure. + +In this fashion they advanced perhaps half a mile. Not once did they +have to leave the path, but Lourenço's caution did not diminish. Rather, +it increased as they neared the Red Bone town. At length another path +joined the one on which they were traveling. Here Lourenço paused for +minutes, inspecting with extreme care the ground and the bush. + +Suddenly he cocked his head as if listening. Then, with a backward +motion of the hand to enjoin silence, he faced down the branch path and +stood calmly waiting. + +To those behind came a light rustle of leaves and a scuffle of moving +feet; a sudden cessation; then Lourenço's voice speaking to some one +concealed behind the intervening undergrowth. His tone was slow, quiet, +easy--the tone which, even if the words were not understood, would +soothe suspicious and abruptly alarmed minds. After another short +silence he resumed talking, pointing carelessly to the place behind him +where stood the silent file of Mayorunas. A guttural voice replied. A +head peered cautiously from the edge of the bush, stared fixedly at +Tucu, and withdrew. The voice sounded again. Immediately three Indians +stepped into view, poised for action. Another interval of staring, and +they relaxed. + +"Come forward, comrades," said Lourenço. They came, halting again at the +junction of the trails. Tucu spoke to one of the newcomers, who scowled +as if only partly understanding, but grunted some sort of answer. Those +behind the Mayoruna leader craned their necks and scanned the Red Bone +men, who continued to eye with evident misgiving the tall-bonneted +cannibals and the broad-hatted pair of whites. + +Man for man, these Red Bones were in every way inferior to the +emissaries of Monitaya. Their bodies were more gaunt, their skins more +coppery, their foreheads lower, and their expressions much less +intelligent. Furthermore, they wore not even the bark-cloth clouts which +formed the sole body covering of the Mayorunas--they were totally naked. +The one point of similarity between the two tribes was that the faces of +the Red Bone men were streaked with red dye. But the facial design was +much different: two short transverse stripes on the forehead, and three +lines on each cheek, running from the eyes, the end of the nose, and the +corners of the mouth, straight back to the ears. Studying those visages, +Knowlton and McKay recalled Schwandorf's statement that these people not +only ate human flesh, but tortured prisoners of war. It was easy to +believe that he had told truth. + +McKay, standing behind Pedro, shifted his position a bit. At once the +eyes of the three Red Bones widened and riveted on his face. Heretofore +they had seen only his hat and eyes, the rest being hidden from them by +Pedro's neck and an intervening palm tip. Now that they saw his +black-bearded jaw, they started slightly and peered intently at him. + +"I think, Capitao, you would do well to shave," Pedro suggested, with a +smile. + +"'Fraid so," the captain granted. "Black beards evidently are _de trop_ +in the jungle social set at present." + +But then one of the Red Bone men came forward, still squinting narrowly, +and his expression was not hostile. In fact, it was more friendly than +it had yet been. After a closer scrutiny, however, his face turned +blank. Slowly he stepped back and muttered something to his companions. + +At this Pedro's eyes narrowed speculatively. But his expression did not +change, and he said nothing. + +A lengthy conference took place between Lourenço and Tucu on the one +hand and the three Red Bone tribesmen on the other; a difficult talk in +which words and sign language both were used and frequently repeated. +Eventually an understanding was reached. The three stepped back, picked +up some small game which they had dropped on beholding Lourenço, +returned, and led the way along the path. Lourenço cast aside his poke +stick and resumed his usual place in the column. The whole line moved +ahead at a much smarter gait than before. + +"Note--this path is not mined," thought Knowlton. + +This proved true. Moreover, the way now was more broad and firm, so that +travel on it was much easier. After twenty minutes of rapid tramping it +debouched abruptly into a cleared space. Here all halted. + +Before them lay a town of small, low huts, crowded closely together in +two parallel rows which curved together at one end. The other end lay +open, giving access to a sizable creek whereon floated canoes. At the +water's edge, along the crude street studded with charred stumps, and +among the damp-looking huts moved naked figures of men and women +occupied with various sluggish activities. Some of the men already had +spied the invading party and were standing at gaze. + +"Comrades, we have reached the end of our trail," said Lourenço, running +a cool eye over the place. "Now all we have to do is to find your Raposa +and get him and ourselves away alive." + +"That's all," Knowlton echoed, unsmiling. "The reception committee is +forming now." And with the words he unbuttoned his holster. + +A shrill yell had run along the double line of houses, and out into the +stumpy street now swarmed men armed with hastily seized weapons. Hands +pointed, confused exclamations sounded, and a compact detachment of +warriors came jogging toward the newcomers. The three guides drew away +from the Mayorunas. The latter promptly fitted arrows to their bows, +inserted darts in their blowguns, lifted spears or clubs, and with eyes +glittering awaited whatever might befall. + +A couple of rods away the Red Bones halted, bows ready. A hatchet-faced +savage who seemed to be in command rasped something at the three +hunters, who quickened their pace toward him. Tucu strode out four paces +beyond his own men and stopped. Then both parties waited while the +hunters reported what they knew to the hatchet-face. + +"What did you tell them, Lourenço?" asked McKay. + +"That we came on a friendly visit to the chief, for whom we had +important words." + +"Nothing of the Raposa?" + +"No. They wasted much time arguing that we must tell them all our +business and let them inform the chief, while we were to stay back on +the path until permitted to enter the town. We told them our talk was +for the chief alone, and that we should come here whether they liked it +or not. So, having no choice, they led us in." + +McKay made no comment. None was necessary. Furthermore, his steady eyes +had caught a simultaneous head movement of the Red Bones--a peering +movement, as if all were seeking some one man among the new arrivals. +Pedro observed this. He spoke softly to Lourenço. + +"Lourenço, tell Tucu to say to the Red Bones that we come led by a +black-bearded white man; that this blackboard comes from the far-off +country where all men wear black beards; that the blackbeard will speak +with the chief only." + +The Americans looked queerly at the young Brazilian, as did Lourenço +himself. But without question Lourenço obeyed. Calling to Tucu, he gave +the message. Tucu moved his head slightly, but gave no other sign of +having heard. + +"Now, Capitao, step forward a little and show yourself more clearly," +prompted Pedro. + +With another puzzled glance McKay did so. He saw that the brown eyes of +the younger man held a dancing gleam, but he could not read the thought +behind those eyes. Yet he noticed that as soon as he stepped out the Red +Bones all focused their gaze on him. More than that, the spokesman of +the three hunters pointed at him and said something to the +sharp-featured leader. + +Now that leader came forward alone. Six feet from Tucu he halted again +and talked in a growling tone. The Mayoruna leader, cool and dignified, +made answer. After a somewhat protracted exchange Tucu turned his head +and motioned to Lourenço, who went forward, listened, replied shortly, +and came back. Meanwhile the first detachment of Red Bones had been +strongly reinforced by others who had come up singly or in small +parties. Now the expedition was outnumbered at least four to one by +hard-faced, brute-mouthed, naked men ready, if not eager, for trouble. + +"The Red Bone says we shall see the chief," Lourenço stated. "At first +he said only you, Capitao, should go to him. Then he insisted that we +all lay down our arms. Tucu has told him we lay down our arms for no man +or men; that we come in peace--otherwise there would be many more of us; +that we leave in peace unless the Red Bones themselves bring on a fight. +In that case, though we are few, there lies behind us the power of +Monitaya, and behind Monitaya the power of the Mayoruna chiefs, all +strong enough to wipe the Red Bone nation off the face of the ground." + +"Strong stuff, that," said Knowlton. + +"Strong, yes. But no stronger than is needed to impress these people. +Tucu intends to prevent trouble if he can; and often the best way to +prevent trouble is to make the other man realize what may happen to him +if he starts it. Also he has his orders from Monitaya to stay with us at +all times, and he will follow that order even if you, Capitao, try to +change it. Now we go together to the chief." + +He nodded to Tucu, who grunted to the Red Bone leader. The hatchet-face +in turn shouted something to the men behind. Slowly they drew apart into +two groups. + +"You are the leader, Capitao," suggested Lourenço. Promptly McKay +marched forward, head up, eyes front, face bleak. The rest followed, +Tucu falling in behind McKay when the captain passed him. Preceded by +the Red Bone spokesman, the line advanced between the two bodies of +copper-skins and swung along the evil-smelling avenue to its upper end. + +There, in the very center of the loop joining the two rows of huts, was +a house twice as big as any other. From its doorway the inhabitant of +that house could watch the whole life of the Red Bone town. Obviously it +was the home of the chief. At its door a pair of warriors stood guard, +but of the ruler himself there was no sign. + +Ten paces from it the thin-featured leader stopped and motioned to McKay +to halt. As the captain and the line behind him did so he stalked +onward, passed through the doorway, and faded from sight in the dimness +beyond. With one accord the members of the visiting party looked around +them. + +The street behind now was filled with the mass of Red Bone warriors who +had trooped after the column. All exit in that direction was blockaded. +But the ex-officers noted that between the houses were spaces each wide +enough to hold a couple of men, and in an undertone McKay gave defensive +instructions to Lourenço. + +"If fighting starts, have the Mayorunas take cover along these houses on +each side. We who have guns will use the chief's house. We can sweep the +whole street from there. You two fellows capture the chief alive if +possible. He'll be more useful as a hostage than as a corpse." + +Pedro beamed approval of this swiftly formed plan. Lourenço muttered to +Tucu, who in turn passed the word down the line. Then all stood waiting. + +Presently the Red Bone man came out. He shouted a name. From the doorway +near at hand, where he had been standing and peering at the small but +formidable body of newcomers, an old man now stepped forth and advanced, +limping a little, to the hatchet-face. The latter talked briefly to him, +then to Tucu. The Mayoruna leader pointed to Lourenço. The old man spoke +to the Brazilian, who answered at once. Thereupon the wizened old fellow +entered the chief's house. + +"That old man speaks the Mayoruna tongue quite well, Capitao," said +Lourenço. "He says you and I shall enter and talk through his mouth with +the chief. All others remain outside, and we must leave our rifles +here." + +"All right. Glad we can leave Tucu out here to control these fellows. +Here, Merry." He passed his rifle to Knowlton. Pedro took Lourenço's +gun. With packs still on their backs the chosen men proceeded to the +doorway and entered the house where waited the ruler of the Red Bone +tribe. + +Behind them the line settled into easier postures of waiting. The Red +Bones, though so compactly ranged as to cut off any chance of escape, +held their distance, obviously neither inclined to fraternize nor ready +to precipitate conflict by crowding. Thus, while keeping their ears open +for any sound of a concerted movement from behind, the visitors could +use their eyes to inspect the huts nearest them. + +In some of these, women stood near the doorways, staring with unwinking +absorption at the light-skinned, athletic men outside who were so much +better to look upon than their own mates. The Mayorunas returned the +stares with the brief glances of men accustomed to noticing everything +but totally uninterested--as well they might be, for these poorly +shaped, heavy-mouthed, mud-skinned females were not to be compared with +their own women. Knowlton and Pedro, too, looked them over, but with the +same expression as if inspecting a family of lizards. Then they glanced +into other huts now empty of life, and in a couple of these they saw +rigid red-hued objects hanging from the roofs. + +"The red bones of the dead, senhor," Pedro muttered, and his blond +companion, peering again at the sinister decorations, nodded without +reply. + +Voices came to them from the chief's house, talking with droning +deliberation. Evidently no cause for friction had yet arisen. They let +their eyes rove on beyond the guarded doorway, to pause at a house a +short distance away at the right. There stood a clubman, who leaned idly +on his weapon, but showed no intention of moving from his place. The +door of that house was closed. Not only closed, but barred on the +outside. + +"Hm! Looks like a jail," said Knowlton. Pedro smiled, but an intent look +came into his face and he studied the closed house. + +Suddenly both started. At one corner of the house, unseen by the +clubman, a head had cautiously slipped forth. For only an instant it +hung there before dodging back out of sight. But both the watching men +had seen that the face, though half masked by long dark hair and a thick +beard, was much lighter than that of any Red Bone savage. And in the +hair above one ear was a white streak. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE RAPOSA + + +McKay and Lourenço, in a broad, low, musty-smelling room, faced a man +who stood and a man who sat. The man who stood was the old savage who +could talk in the Mayoruna language. The man who sat was the chief of +the Red Bones. + +In his first words to the visitors the old interpreter revealed that the +name of the Red Bone ruler was Umanuh. Later on Lourenço informed McKay +that in the Tupi _lengoa geral_ of the Amazonian Indians (which, +however, was not spoken by this tribe) the word "umanuh" meant "corpse." +And whatever the name may have signified in the language of the Red +Bones, its Tupi definition fitted with disagreeable precision. For +Umanuh was a living cadaver. + +Gaunt, gray skinned, lank haired, hollow of cheek and eye, with thin, +cruel lips so tight drawn that the teeth behind seemed to show through, +ribs projecting, clawlike hands resting on bony knees, his whole frame +motionless as that of a man long dead, the head man of the bone-dyeing +tribe was the antithesis of both the piggish Suba and the herculean +Monitaya. Only his eyes lived; and those eyes were cold and merciless as +those of a snake or a vulture. A man who ruled by ruthless cunning, who +would gaze unmoved on the most ghastly tortures, who would devour human +flesh with ghoulish relish--such was the creature who sat in a red-dyed +hammock and contemplated the impassive face of McKay. + +"Umanuh, great chief, eater of his enemies, with fangs of the jaguar and +wisdom of the great snake, awaits the greeting of the one-whose-hair +grows-from-his-mouth," droned the old mouthpiece of the chief. + +"Makkay, leader of the fighting men of the Blackbeards, whose voice is +the thunder and whose hand spits lightning and death, gives greeting to +Umanuh," responded Lourenço in a like droning tone. + +A pause. Umanuh gave no sign of life. McKay, straight and cold, met the +unwinking stare of the chief with his own chill gray gaze. Between the +two who spoke not was a testing of wills. + +"Makkay brings with him none of the Blackbeard warriors," pointed out +the interpreter, who seemed to know his master's thought. "He comes with +only the jungle men of light skins." + +"Makkay needs none of his own warriors when he comes in peace. If he +came in war the terrible Blackbeards with him would cause the whole +forest to fly apart in smoke and flame. Since he walks in peace to visit +his friend Umanuh, of whose wisdom he has heard, he brings only his +friends the Mayorunas, who are friends also to the men of the Red +Bones." + +Another pause. The old man now seemed somewhat uncertain of himself. The +silent duel between McKay and Umanuh went on. At length the chief's eyes +flickered a trifle. In a hissing whisper he said something. + +"The men of the Mayorunas never come to this country unless seeking +something," the interpreter promptly spoke up. "What do they seek?" + +"Only that which Makkay seeks." + +Then, turning to the captain, the Brazilian added: "Capitao, we now have +reached the point to talk business. Have you any presents? And is it +your wish to give them now or later?" + +"I have a few things. But I'll give them later--if at all. This chief is +hostile. Tell him what we're here for and see how he acts." + +"It has come to the ears of Makkay," Lourenço informed the man of +Umanuh, "that a man of the Blackbeards lives among the men of the Red +Bones. Makkay would see that man." + +Again the interpreter awaited his master's voice before answering. + +"No man of the Blackbeards is among the men of Umanuh," he then denied. + +"If he is not among them he is near them," was Lourenço's certain reply. +"He has been seen both by other Blackbeards and by the Mayorunas. I, +too, have seen him. He bears on his bones the sign that his mind is out +of his skull. His eyes are green and his hair touched with white. Umanuh +and his men know well that I speak true." + +The pause this time was longer than before. + +"There was such a man, but he is gone." + +"Then Makkay asks his friend Umanuh to find that one. A chief so wise +can easily find him where others would see only water and mud." + +"If he could be found what would the great Blackbeard leader do with +him?" + +Lourenço thought swiftly. To say the Raposa was McKay's friend would do +little good. Friendship meant nothing to this unfeeling brute. Therefore +the bushman insinuated something which his cruel mind could comprehend. + +"If a Red Bone man abandoned his people and went to another tribe, what +would Umanuh do to him when he was found?" + +A cold glimmer in the chief's eyes showed that he thought he understood. +Moreover, he would much like to see what sort of torture this hard-faced +Blackbeard would use on a fugitive. It might be something even more +fiendish than his own pastimes. So the next reply came promptly. + +"If that man is found the blackbeard will pay for him?" + +"There are gifts of friendship for Umanuh," Lourenço nodded. + +"The Blackbeard leader will pay more than the other Blackbeard?" + +Lourenço almost blinked. What other Blackbeard? The Raposa himself? But +the Brazilian repressed his bewilderment. + +"Makkay will first see the man to make sure he is the Blackbeard whom +Makkay wants," he dodged. "Then he will pay well." + +"Umanuh will see the gifts now." + +"The gifts cannot be shown now. They are packed away. When Makkay has +looked on the man Umanuh shall look on the gifts." + +Another eye duel between the chief and McKay. As before, the captain's +eye proved the harder. + +"Umanuh will think of the matter. Night comes. The man hunted by the +Blackbeard is not here. The Blackbeard and his men may stay to-night +across the water. When the sun rises again Umanuh will talk further." + +"It is well. Let Umanuh tell his men to stay on this side of the water, +that we may not mistake them in the night for enemies." + +When Umanuh had hissed assent the old man stepped to the doorway and +summoned the hatchet-faced warrior. To him instructions were given. He +turned and carried the commands to the tribesmen. + +"Makkay wishes Umanuh peaceful rest," said Lourenço. With which he +flicked his eyes toward the door. McKay, with stiff stride, stalked out. +Lourenço followed. Both felt the snake eyes of the cadaverous chief +dwelling on their backs. + +To the waiting Knowlton, Pedro, and Tucu it was briefly explained that +preliminary negotiations had been concluded and that camp now would be +made on the farther side of the creek. Tucu, observing that the Red Bone +mass behind was dividing again to let the visitors pass through, gave +the word to his men. The column began to move out, marching in reverse +order. Pedro muttered swiftly to his partner. + +"Lourenço, see that house with the barred door where the clubman stands +guard. Remember where it is." + +The other swept the loop in one quick glance, located the house, and +fell into step without a word, the guarded structure fixed on his brain +as clearly as if he had studied it for an hour. Walking down the +malodorous street, he said, quietly, "There will be a small moon +to-night." + +"You are becoming a reader of the mind, comrade," Pedro grinned. No more +was said. + +Down to the shore of the creek trooped the party, followed closely by +the hatchet-face and a score of tribesmen. The whites and the Mayorunas +got into half a dozen of the waiting canoes and paddled across. In other +dugouts the Red Bone men also crossed, but they did not land. As soon as +the borrowed boats were empty the tribesmen took them in tow and +returned to their own bank. The visitors were left on a partly cleared +shore, separated from their uncordial hosts by some twenty yards of deep +water. Not one canoe was left them. Furthermore, the Red Bones now began +activities indicating an intention to establish a night-long watch on the +irside of the stream. + +"Taking no chances of our raiding them to-night, or even snooping around +town," said Knowlton. "Keeping everything in their own hands. Reckon +we'd better post sentries to-night, Rod, just to keep an eye on that +outpost of theirs." + +McKay nodded. + +"We four will take it in turn," he agreed. "Lourenço--Pedro--you--I. +Three-hour tours." + +"Pardon, Capitao," interposed Pedro. "It would be well to change that. +You two senhores take the first two watches." + +"Why?" frowned McKay. + +"Because Lourenço and I wish to go visiting. We are much smitten with +the charms of the ladies here." + +The captain's frown deepened, but he studied Pedro's devil-may-care face +keenly before answering. + +"Humph! What's up your sleeve? Out with it!" + +Pedro glanced around him and across the water. The tribesmen, both of +the Mayoruna force and of the Red Bones, were watching the colloquy. + +"We are watched, Capitao. Let us make camp now and talk later. These men +do not understand our words, but we cannot tell what they may see in our +faces. Now speak harshly, as if I had been insolent." + +McKay did. He thundered at the young bushman as if about to do him +bodily injury. + +Pedro retreated a step, as if taken aback by the storm he had unleashed. +When McKay stopped he replied: "Excellent, Capitao. Now I go to start +work on the _tambo_." + +He trudged away with a sullen gait. On both sides of the stream the +Indians muttered and looked at the tall commander with increased +respect. Truly, the Blackbeard was a fierce ruler and one who must not +be angered; he had the voice of a great gun and the temper of a jaguar. +That other man was lucky to have his head still on his shoulders! + +When the camp was made at the edge of the bush and the four comrades +were grouped in their hammocks, Lourenço narrated in detail the +conversation with Umanuh. Knowlton reciprocated with news of what he and +Pedro had seen at the corner of the barred house. + +"I almost jumped after him, Rod," he admitted. "Had all I could do to +hold myself. But I knew anything sudden like that might start war right +there, and we wouldn't have a Chinaman's chance of getting away with +him, so I stood fast. But he's here, and old Umanuh's a liar by the +clock if he says otherwise." + +"He is the same man we saw in the forest, Lourenço, or my eyes are +twisted," added Pedro. + +"Hm! Something very fishy here," commented McKay. + +"Very fishy indeed, Capitao," Lourenço echoed. "The man is within call, +yet Umanuh says he is not here. And Umanuh wants us to buy the man. What +is more, he asks if we will pay more than the other Blackbeard. What +other Blackbeard? The man himself has a dark beard, and since we left +headquarters Pedro and I have grown black whiskers, too. Yet Umanuh +cannot mean the crazy man would pay him to stay here, or that either of +us Brazilians would try to buy him. There are no other men with black +beards--except the German woman-stealer; and of course he cannot be the +one." + +"No?" Pedro asked, softly. + +"No, certainly. Why? Of what were you thinking?" + +Pedro's brown eyes twinkled, but he made no answer. He only inhaled a +long puff from his cigarette and looked across the water at the +hairpin-shaped town. + +"What about that visiting trip of yours to-night?" McKay asked. + +"I wish to see what is in that house with the barred door, Capitao. When +I am curious about such a matter Lourenço always becomes curious, too, +so I shall have to take him with me. If I did not he would say I was +making love to the chief's wives." + +"_Por Deus!_ That may be all the barred house holds--the wives of the +chief," guessed Lourenço. "Why waste time and risk death to look into +that place?" + +"_Quem nao arrisca nao ganha_, as the coronel would say--he who risks +nothing gains nothing. I feel that we should visit that house. Something +calls me back to it." + +Lourenço studied his partner a moment, then nodded slowly. But McKay +interposed decided objection. + +"Too dangerous. Also unnecessary. We'll get Rand--if the man is +Rand--through the chief. Your night spying might ruin everything and get +you killed into the bargain. Nothing to gain and all to lose. Stay +here." + +Pedro's eyes hardened. But it was Lourenço who answered. + +"Capitao, I think we had best do as Pedro says. It is a queer thing and +I cannot explain it, but I have known him to have such ideas in the past +and they have always worked out for the best. He himself does not know +why he does some things--things which look totally foolish and which +often are very dangerous--except that he feels like doing them. Yet I +have never known this foolishness to fail to turn out well. He and I +will go over to-night and see what we may see." + +The captain's brows drew together. Flat insubordination! Then he +remembered that these men were not subordinates at all; remembered also +what Coronel Nunes said concerning their ability to get into and out of +dangerous situations. When Knowlton sided with them he capitulated. + +"Up in the States we'd say Pedro was 'riding his hunch,'" was the +lieutenant's remark. "And I've known a hunch to bring all kinds of good +luck. Gee! I'd like to go across with you lads myself! But I'm no jungle +expert, especially after dark, and I'd only be in the way. Besides, +we'll sure have to stick here and keep up appearances while you're gone. +How will you get over? There's no way but swimming, and this creek's +probably inhabited by the usual 'gators and snakes and things." + +"When one can travel only by swimming, one swims," Pedro smiled. "Leave +that to us, senhores. Now the sun sinks fast and I have hunger. Let us +eat." + +Night was at hand. While the whites talked some of the Mayorunas had +quietly slipped away into the bush, seeking whatever fresh meat might be +obtainable without straying too far from camp. Naturally, the hunting +was poor so near an inhabited place, but now the absent men came +stealing back with a few small birds and one monkey. Though the savages +asked nothing and evidently expected nothing from the whites to eke out +this scant provision, the latter opened their meager larders to Tucu, +ordering him to see that every man had at least a few mouthfuls to eat. +Tucu, like a good commander, made no bones of accepting the invitation +for the good of his men. When all hands had stowed away the last meal of +the day the rations were reduced almost to the vanishing point. + +"Those miserable whelps over there might have had the decency to give us +a few bites," Knowlton growled, looking at the Red Bone men on the other +bank, who were gorging themselves on meat brought by their women. + +"It is quite possible that they intend to give us several bites later +on," Pedro suggested, with a mirthless smile. + +"Uh-huh. Shouldn't wonder. But it's also possible that they'll have to +assimilate a few lead pills before chewing us up. Rod, we'll have our +work cut out standing guard to-night. I wouldn't put it past that lying +old Umanuh to try rubbing us out before morning." + +"Nor I," concurred McKay. "Only question is whether he dares take a +chance against our guns and against the likelihood that Monitaya will +send other men to investigate our disappearance. Better keep well out of +sight." + +As he spoke the last light of day vanished. Stars and a quarter moon +leaped out in the swiftly darkening sky. The small fire of the +expedition threw dim shadows against the poles of the night shelters. +Lights glimmered in the Red Bone huts, and other lights began to streak +across the gloom--the bright little lanterns of fireflies coasting along +the stream. But at the point where the Red Bone night guard lurked no +light shone. They had built no fire, and now they were almost invisible +in the faint moonshine--sinister shadows which even now might be +meditating murder or worse. + +Lourenço lounged over to Tucu, who was watching those shadows with a +fixed cat stare, and informed him that until morning a man with a gun +would be always on guard while the rest slept. The Indian grunted +approval. By way of precaution against being killed by his own men, the +Brazilian added the information that later on he and his comrade would +leave the camp and go upstream for a time. At this Tucu's eyes dwelt on +his, veered to the lights of the town, and returned. In them was a +plain, though unspoken, question. The bushman ignored it and strolled +back to his _tambo_. + +The moon sailed higher. The animal uproar of early night began to +diminish. The fire, almost buried under slow-burning wood whose acrid +smoke alleviated the insect pests, smoldered dull red. McKay and +Knowlton drew lots for the first sleep, the captain winning and promptly +getting under his net. In the Mayoruna shelter all was dark and silent, +each man sleeping lightly with one hand on a weapon. The two Brazilians +also were out of sight in their hut. + +Up and down, a barely distinguishable figure, Knowlton passed slowly +with holster unbuttoned and rifle cocked, eyes turning periodically to +the Red Bone outpost and ears intent to pick any unusual sound out of +the night noise. Gradually the small lights of the town faded out. To +all appearance, sleep had whelmed it for the night. The watchers on the +farther shore stirred a little at times, but the blot they made in the +moonshine remained fixed in the same spot. The only moving things were +the khaki-clad sentinel and the blazing fireflies. + +Another hour rolled slowly by. The sentinel stopped and stood at a +corner of the _tambo_. Now was as good a time as any for the Brazilians +to start their perilous reconnaissance. Perhaps they had gone to sleep. +He squinted at their hammocks. Yes, they were occupied. Stepping softly +to the hammock of Pedro, he lifted the net to whisper to the occupant. +Then he stared, dropped the net, and lifted Lourenço's curtain. A soft, +self-derisive chuckle sounded in his throat as he stole out again. + +The hammocks were occupied, yes; but only by packs and rifles. Armed +only with machetes, the two bushmen now were--where? He did not even +know when or which way they had gone. Fine sentinel, wasn't he, to let +two full-grown men sneak away right under his nose? And if they could +get out so slick, why couldn't somebody else--a murderous Red Bone, for +instance--get in with equal facility? + +Wherefore he became all the more alert. Instead of resuming his slow +pace, he stood quiet at a corner, scrutinizing everything within his +range of vision, listening more intently than ever. Two or three times +he leaned forward and lifted his piece as some splashing noise in the +creek came to him; but each time the cannibal guards on the other bank +also sprang to see what caused the sound, then grunted to one another +and relaxed, so he knew it was made by piscatory or reptilian life. Near +him nothing moved. And the moon sailed on westward, smoothly, steadily +measuring off the silent hours of the night watch. + +Then all at once every nerve in him strained toward the back of the +_tambo_. Something was there! He had not heard it--seen it--smelled +it--but he felt it; a nameless thing that did not belong there. With +smooth speed he pivoted, looked, listened. Nothing there. + +Motionless, feeling slightly creepy, concealed under the roof corner, he +waited. A sound came--a stealthy sound. Something was creeping in. +Lourenço and Pedro, perhaps? Stooping low, he peered along the ground +under the hammocks. + +A man was coming--coming on all-fours like an animal. He was too +stealthy to be either of the Brazilians. Knowlton glimpsed him only +dimly, but he was sure this was no man who belonged here. And now, as on +a previous occasion almost identical in its circumstances, the watchman +acted in accordance with Tim Ryan's General Order Number Thirteen. + +In three jumps he was upon the invader. His gun butt crashed down on the +rising head. The other collapsed on the ground. + +Swiftly Knowlton snapped a match with his thumb-nail. The sudden flare +half blinded him, but what he saw made him suck in his breath. When the +match went out he turned the senseless body over, drew his pocket +flashlight, stabbed its white ray downward. Then he committed the +unpardonable sin of the army--he dropped his rifle. + +Dark haired, dark bearded, streaked with red dye and bleeding slightly +at the nose, at his feet lay the man for whom the indomitable trio had +traveled thousands of miles and dared all the deaths of the jungle--the +Raposa. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT + + +"Rod! Wake up!" + +The tense whisper aroused McKay instantly. With one sweep of the arm his +net was torn aside and he leaped out with pistol drawn. + +"Right, Merry. What is it?" + +"We've got him! Look!" + +The electric ray again streaked the gloom. The astounded captain did not +drop his gun, but he came near it. For a long minute he stood as in a +trance. When he attempted to holster his weapon he fumbled three times +for the sheath before he found it. + +"Whew!" he breathed. "Have you killed him?" + +"Nope--don't think so. Lord! I hope not! Now that I think of it, I did +give him a mighty solid smash. Used the butt. He was crawling in here, +and naturally I didn't stop to ask for his card. Feel his head." + +McKay complied. His exploring fingers found only a huge bump under the +thick hair. + +"No, his skull's whole. Didn't even split the scalp. You crowned him +hard, but unless he got concussion he's still useful. His nosebleed +comes from hitting the ground, I think. Turn off the light. Are you +still on guard?" + +"Yes. The Brazilians are out." + +"Take a turn and see that all's clear. Can't tell what might break any +minute now. Leave your flash here." + +Passing the flat, nickel light-box to the captain, Knowlton retrieved +his gun from the ground and resumed his patrol. Slight as the +disturbance had been, uneasiness was in the air. The savages on the far +shore were up, peering at the _tambo_ and muttering to one another. +Measuring the distance, the lieutenant saw that, though they had +undoubtedly seen the flashlight switched on and off and made out the +movements of men, they could not have discerned what lay on the ground +beyond the hammocks. Nearer at hand, Tucu and a couple of the Mayorunas +were awake and looking out. But the sight of the sentinel strolling up +and down in apparent unconcern and the absence of light in the _tambo_ +gradually quieted the suspicions on both sides of the water. Soon the +Red Bones squatted again and the Mayorunas lay back with minds at ease. + +Then a dim sheen of light showed for a time at the back of the white +men's shelter, fading out after a few minutes into the usual gloom. +McKay had pulled a blanket over himself and the unconscious man, masking +his torch glare from any watching eye while he studied the face and form +of the invader. After the faint radiance vanished certain sounds came to +the sentry's ears. Then McKay's tall figure loomed in the vague +moonshine. Knowlton stopped beside him. + +"It's Rand," the captain vouchsafed in an undertone. "No question of it. +Features identical, though face is drawn. White hair mark, broken nose, +green eyes. I opened one eye. Got a bad foot, partly healed; looks as if +he'd torn it on a stub. Poor devil seems nearly starved." + +"So? Then that's why he sneaked in like that--wanted to steal some grub. +Those mutts over yonder probably haven't fed him since he got hurt." + +"That's it. He's had to do his own foraging, and his foot has given him +mighty little chance. Damn those brutes!" + +"Right! But now what? Look out that he doesn't sneak away again." + +"He won't. I tied his feet. He's in Pedro's hammock, still dead to the +world. If he wakes up and starts to yell I'll gag him. We've got to get +away now as soon as we can." + +"How?" + +"Don't know. By water, perhaps. Wish those bushman were here. Haven't +heard any noise over there, have you?" + +"All quiet. They're safe--or dead." + +"Hm! Confounded foolishness, anyway. But we've no means of getting out +until they're back. Couldn't desert them, besides. What time is it?" + +"Ten-thirty. You go on watch at midnight." + +"I'm on watch now, inside. They may be back any time. If they don't show +up in the next couple of hours I'll send Tucu to find out why. We'll +have to get those canoes over here, too. Water leaves no trail." + +He turned back into the hut, leaving Knowlton figuring chances. To +obtain those canoes was a man-sized job. To put the Red Bone guards out +of action without arousing the whole tribe was an even bigger job. But +no boats could be brought over until the outpost was silenced, that was +sure. + +Another half-hour crept past. Still no noise from the town, no +suspicious move on the other shore. Then from the _tambo_ itself came a +low mumble of voices. Knowlton stepped swiftly into it. As noiselessly +as they had gone the two bushmen had returned. + +In his usual concise phrases McKay was informing them of the capture of +the Raposa. With his back to the stream and the flashlight held close to +his body, he played the light for an instant on the face of the still +unconscious man. Then, once more in darkness, he asserted: + +"Now that we have him, we must get out of here. Only chance to do that +is to get the canoes. With them we can at least be away from this town +by sunrise, and it will take the Red Bones just so much longer to find +our trail where we take to the bush. We'll get a flying start that way. +Anything else to suggest?" + +"That is the best plan, Capitao," Lourenço agreed. For the first time +since the Americans had known him his voice held a note of suppressed +excitement. "It is the only plan worth while. And I do not think we +shall have to take to our legs soon--if at all. I believe this creek +connects with that which flows past the Monitaya _malocas_. We have +learned some things. _Por Deus!_ If only we had known the Raposa was +here!" + +"Why?" + +"Because then we could have brought company with us. Senhores, guess +what the barred house holds." + +"Well?" + +"Women of the Mayorunas! Girls stolen from Monitaya and other +settlements!" + +"Jumping Judas!" ejaculated Knowlton. "Are you sure?" + +"Sure, comrades! These foul Red Bones are the men who have been lurking +around the Mayoruna tribe houses and capturing girls who went into the +bush. They have taken the prisoners to the water, where the trails +always were lost and where they could find hiding places until night, +then drive their canoes past the clearings and get out of that country. +So there must be some water connection by which these men travel, and by +which we too can travel. If we go downstream we are almost sure to find +it by daylight." + +"But why--what's the idea of their stealing the girls? For victims? If +so, how are the girls still alive?" + +"Do you not see, senhor?" Pedro broke in, impatiently. "Did not Umanuh +ask if we would pay more than the other Blackbeard for the Raposa? What +other Blackbeard?" + +"Schwandorf!" the Americans blurted, simultaneously. + +"Not so loud! Schwandorf, of course! Umanuh works with the German. He +catches girls by stealth and sells them to the German to add to his +slave gangs. While the Mayorunas all blame the Peruvians for the +disappearances, Umanuh works unsuspected. He is holding these women +until Schwandorf comes again--and it may be that Schwandorf is not far +off at this moment. Now that we have come seeking the wild man, Umanuh +at once thinks of selling him also; and he wonders whether we or +Schwandorf will pay the more for him." + +"By thunder! I believe you're right!" Knowlton coincided. "He's stalling +for time, holding us here while Schwandorf comes up, I'll bet. No wonder +he and his men are wary of the Mayorunas--they thought we'd come to +snoop around and catch 'em with the goods. You fellows must have done a +mighty slick job to find out this stuff without getting caught. Isn't +the house guarded at night?" + +"Indeed it is! Two clubmen are there now, and there is only the one +door. Not even a window. But Lourenço worked a small hole between two +logs at the back while I watched the clubmen, and through the hole he +whispered with one of the women inside. If only we had known the wild +man was here we could have jumped the guards and tried to bring back the +women. But of course your business about the Raposa had to be thought of +first, so all we could do was to tell them friends were here." + +For a few seconds there was the silence of thought. Then Knowlton +chuckled. + +"I'll say we have our hands full this night. Now we not only have to get +ourselves and Rand out of here, but also rescue the fair damsels from +the clutches of the ogre. 'Twon't do to leave them here while we go back +to Monitaya and get the rest of his army. By the time we could come back +they'd be gone--one way or another. What's done has to be done now or +never." + +"Right!" McKay commended. "We'll have to save the women, of course. +Question is--how?" + +Lourenço answered at once. + +"My idea, Capitao, is this: We two will return. With us we will take +Tucu. The three of us can handle those guards quietly. We must have +Tucu, because the women do not know us and might balk at the last +moment. Women are queer creatures, and these might think themselves +safer inside prison walls than following two strange men through the +night; but Tucu can handle them. When once we are clear of the houses +Tucu can lead the women to the bank above here, and we shall try for the +canoes. Then it will be fast work to get away, but if we have good +fortune it can be done." + +"Confound it! You fellows are taking all the risks! Can't you take more +men--" + +"No. No man but Tucu. He has a cool head. These others, if they knew, +would go blood-mad and attack the Red Bones to avenge their lost women, +and so would get us all killed. Now I will talk with Tucu." + +He slipped into the Mayoruna shelter and returned with the cannibal +leader, whom he led to the far side of the _tambo_ before speaking. +Then, in whispers which the other tribesmen could not overhear, he +explained the situation. Knowlton took another turn or two along his +post, finding that the Red Bones across the water were stirring about +and evidently aware that something was going on; but they made no move +either to get into a canoe or to send a man to the houses beyond. As he +stopped again at the corner near the whispering pair he heard Tucu +grinding his teeth, and as the savage turned his face toward the Red +Bone outpost it was a mask of murder. But he spoke no word as he slipped +back to his own men. + +"He will wake another man and tell him what to do," Lourenço explained. +"But only we four shall know of the women until they are freed. Will one +of you lend Tucu a machete? He may need a weapon, and he cannot carry +his big bow on this trip." + +A few minutes later the three crept out behind the _tambo_, Tucu +gripping McKay's machete. As a final word Lourenço said: "Our men here +may move about a little after a time, but do not try to keep them quiet. +It is a part of the plan." + +With that he was gone. Listen as they might, the Americans could hear no +sound to indicate that three men now were traversing the black tangle +beyond. + +McKay took up his rifle and assumed the sentry work. Knowlton sat in his +hammock, grateful for the chance to rest his weary legs. From the +hammock where the Raposa lay no sound came. With a worried frown the +lieutenant leaned over him and laid hand on his heart. After a while he +sat up again in relief. + +"Lord! I sure knocked him cold!" was his thought. "But he's still with +us, and there's no use in reviving him now; the less noise over here the +better. Hope I didn't jar his brains loose altogether; he might wake up +a murderous maniac. Poor devil! A millionaire, yet half starved and more +than half nutty." + +He glanced at the dim scene before the hut. The moon now had journeyed +so far westward that the creeping shadows of the tall trees had moved +out almost to the creek, and the two crude shelters and the sentinel +were surrounded by dense gloom. The Red Bone men opposite must rely on +their ears alone hereafter, for they could not see through this +darkness. McKay was visible enough to his own party, but not to the +enemy. The blond man in the hammock watched the somber figure of his +comrade, followed the flight of a big firefly whose light floated near, +thought of the two bushmen out in the dark, and looked again at the +still form of Rand. + +"Drifters all," he soliloquized. "The fireflies and Rod and Tim and I +and those Brazilian dare-devils--all floating around because we can't +keep still, and never getting anywhere. And you, you silly-ass Rand, +have a mint waiting for you up home, and we have to come find you and +lead you up there and shove your nose into it. And if you get your +brains back you'll be a nine days' wonder and a hero of the jungle and +all that, and the girls will all tumble over you--because you've got a +couple of millions in your sock. And we fellows who yanked you out of +hell by the left hind leg can pocket our pay and go jump off the dock, +for all anybody cares. Ho-hum! All the same, I'd rather be me than you, +old thing. Free to drift and able to handle myself. You can have the +money and the moths that hang around it." + +With which he yawned, squinted again at the sinister figure squatting +out yonder in the moonshine, arose, and made himself useful. Working +very quietly, he took down three of the hammocks, rolled them up, laid +them at the corner nearest the creek; made up the packs by sense of +touch and placed them and the rifles of the absent pair in the same +place. Then he lifted the Raposa from the one remaining hammock, laid +him on the packs, rolled up the hammock itself, and put it under the +unconscious man's head. If given time when the crisis came, he meant to +save all equipment. If not, Rand lay where he could be grabbed without +delay. + +Before he completed the work he became aware that the Mayorunas all were +awake. Not only awake, but moving stealthily about, as Lourenço had +predicted. McKay also knew it and stepped back into the hut, where +Knowlton told him what he had done. But so softly did the men of +Monitaya move that the Red Bone watchers showed no sign of alarm. Both +the Americans observed, however, that the cannibals across the stream +had their heads together and that occasionally one looked up at the +little moon. + +"Get that, Rod? They're waiting for the shadows to crawl over there and +cover them and the water. They know that then we can't see what they're +up to. I'm betting they intend to pull some dirty work after that." + +"Yep. But intention and accomplishment are two different birds. Wonder +what these Mayorunas are fixing to do. Wish I could talk their +language." + +"Tucu evidently left orders for them to get up at a certain time, but +why I don't know. We'd better let them alone." + +The shadow line passed out upon the water, slipping by infinitesimal +gradations across its mirror surface. The Mayorunas had become quiet. +The whites waited in silent suspense for they knew not what. Far out in +the forest a jaguar gave his coughing roar at intervals. Little by +little the Red Bone men arose from their squat until they stood erect. A +tense stillness held both forces. And the shadows crawled on--on--and +reached the farther bank. + +Then a Red Bone man shoved his head forward, squinting upstream as if he +had heard something move in the rank grass. He began to sneak softly in +that direction. At that moment, from the water's edge a little above the +camp, sounded a loud hiss. + +Before the sound died a sudden thrum of bow cords filled the air. A +whisper of five-foot shafts speeding over the water--a rapid-fire series +of tiny impacts--a couple of short groans--the thumps of falling +bodies--and the Red Bone outpost was no more. Shot through and through +by the deadly war arrows of the Mayorunas, they were dead before they +struck the ground. And from the men of Monitaya sounded one short, +subdued "Hah!" of savage satisfaction. + +Up from the ground where that hiss had sounded rose a tall figure which +waved its arms and danced about in impromptu signals. Then it ran for +the canoes. Out from the gloom upstream other figures took shape, +running fast for the same point. With one simultaneous movement Knowlton +and McKay seized the Raposa and rushed with him to the stream. + +"Senhores!" sounded Pedro's voice, low but tense, across the water. "Be +ready!" + +"Ready and waiting!" snapped McKay. "Who are those people. Your women?" + +"_Si._ We are not discovered--" + +Across his words smote a long shrill yell from the town. + +"_Por Deus._ We _are_ discovered! Get our rifles, for the love of _Deus +Padre_." + +He leaped into a canoe, drove it headlong across, and dived for the +_tambo_. Behind him the other figures dashed panting up to the landing. +Tucu's voice rasped in swift commands. The fugitives swarmed into other +dugouts. The Mayoruna men, still ignorant of the identity of these +people, but assured by Tucu's voice and manner that they were not +enemies, lowered their weapons and rushed for the water. Up in the town +the yelling swiftly grew into a roar, and running figures came pelting +toward the creek. + +The canoes struck the bank. Some were partly filled, some empty and in +tow. Into Pedro's canoe the whites bundled the Raposa, while the +Mayorunas got into anything within reach. Lourenço appeared from nowhere +and urged the Americans to open fire. As he spoke, arrows thudded into +the ground and the water. + +"Take this man and go!" rasped McKay. "We're losing our equipment, +but--" + +His rifle leaped to his shoulder. Flame spat from it. From the van of +the charging Red Bones shrilled a death scream. + +Again and again the captain's gun cracked. Knowlton's joined in. Before +their rifles grew silent the blunt roar of Pedro's repeater broke out. +And with the emptying of their long guns the Americans drew their short +ones, and in a concerted ripping crash the forty-fives volleyed death +and dismay into the oncoming cannibals. + +The rush was checked. For a few seconds the Red Bones wavered and milled +about. Into their mass poured a cloud of arrows and blowgun darts from +the silent but no less deadly weapons of the Mayorunas. As the whites +paused to reload, Pedro opened a new blast from Lourenço's rifle, which +his comrade had passed to him on the run. Lourenço was not shooting, but +working madly and alone to save the equipment. And, thanks to the +renewed deadly fire of the guns, he saved it. + +Before the wicked belch of the three rifles and the two automatics the +Red Bones gave back more and more. Their arrows plunged all around the +fighting men, but they fell at random, for the gunmen and the canoes +were virtually invisible in the deep shadows. Downstream, Tucu's harsh +voice jarred in commands as he straightened out the line of boats. + +At the next lull in the firing Lourenço panted: "In, comrades! We are +loaded. In!" + +"Great guns! Are you still here?" snapped McKay. "I told you--" + +"In! Talk later. Come!" + +The three gun fighters swiftly obeyed. With a powerful heave Lourenço +sent the canoe after the others. Americans, Brazilians, and the Raposa +hunched up among the packs, all went sliding down a jungle Styx. + +A moment later the Red Bone warriors, taking heart from the cessation of +firing, poured an avalanche of arrows into the spot where they had been. +And as the canoe, last in the escaping line, was swallowed up in the +impenetrable blackness of the forest a hair-raising screech of +diabolical fury blended with a swift succession of splashes back where +the cannibals were plunging headlong into the stream to reach the dead +or wounded men whom they vainly hoped to find on the farther shore. + +"I told you to take this man and go!" McKay fumed. "By disobeying orders +you risked losing him." + +"Oh, pipe down, Rod!" remonstrated Knowlton. "If they had, where'd we be +now? This was the last canoe." + +"_Si._ It is so," added Lourenço, his voice hard edged. "As it is, the +man and the equipment and you also are here. And let me tell you this, +Capitao Makkay, whether you like it or not: Pedro and I would see this +wild man and a million others like him in a hotter place than this +before we would abandon fighting comrades." + +To which McKay, finding no adequate answer, made none whatever. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +THE SIREN OF WAR + + +Like a fleet manned by sightless sailors the line of boats blundered on +through the blackness. With no guiding light, the canoes bumped the +banks and collided with one another in perilous confusion. Speed was +impossible, yet speed was imperative. Knowlton and his little flashlight +solved the problem. + +"Say, fellows, let's take the lead," he suggested. "This little light +isn't much, but it's something, and there are some extra batteries in my +haversack when this burns out. We can see a little way ahead, and pass +back the word to the rest. What say?" + +"_Na terra dos cegos quem tem um olho e rei_--in blindman's land he who +has one eye is king," said Pedro. "That little white eye in your box may +save us all. Lourenço, tell those ahead to let us pass." + +Without question the preceding dugouts swerved, and the boat of the +white men slipped by. At the head of the line they found Tucu and his +crew struggling manfully to make progress without wrecking the whole +fleet at the turns. Vast relief and instant acceptance of the new +leadership followed Lourenço's explanation. At once the floating column +began to pick up speed. And it was well that it did. + +Howls of baffled hate came faintly through the tree mass from the Red +Bone town. Some time later more yells of rage sounded, much nearer--back +at a place on the creek which the last boat had cleared only a few +minutes previously. Some of the Umanuh men had made torches and run +along one of the Red Bone trails to a bend in the stream, only to find +the water bare of everything but dying ripples. + +Whether the enemy attempted to follow in canoes the escaping party never +knew, for none succeeded in overtaking the rearmost boat. And after that +one snarling uproar on the creek bank they heard no more of the land +pursuit. The narrow margin of safety gained by the aid of the flashlight +proved enough to give a commanding lead, and from that time on the only +obstacles to their retreat were those of darkness and winding waters. + +Hour after hour Knowlton squatted in the extreme bow, picking out the +turns and snags just ahead and passing the word back to Lourenço, who, +in the stern, steered in accordance with his orders and relayed the +course to Tucu, just behind. Amidships, Pedro and McKay plied steady +paddles and the Raposa lay all but forgotten on the baggage. There were +no halts. If any boat back in the blackness got into difficulties it +extricated itself as best it could, unaided by the rest, and fell into a +new place in the column. + +At last a wan light, which was scarcely a light, but rather a lessening +of the density, came about the stream. The renewed racket of birds and +beasts announced that up overhead the sky had paled into dawn. Slowly +the nearest tree trunks began to take shape in the void, and presently +the shore line became visible to all eyes. At the same time Knowlton's +tiny lamp dimmed and faded out. + +"Another battery gone," he announced, opening the case and dropping its +contents into the creek. "Ho-yo-ho-hum! Gee! I'm all in! Eyes feel like +a couple of burnt holes. Well, gents, I move that at the first available +spot we go ashore, feed our faces, look at the ladies, and perform our +morning salute to Umanuh--said salute consisting of applying the right +thumb to the end of the nose and snappily twiddling four fingers." + +"Motion carried." McKay's set face relaxed. Then, his glance dropping to +the Raposa, it tightened again. "Oh, hullo, Rand! How you feeling?" + +The unconscious man was unconscious no longer. Moreover, his expression +was not that of one just emerging from a stupor and bewildered as to his +surroundings. Though he had made no movement to change his position, his +eyes indicated that he had been awake for some time. They dwelt steadily +on McKay, then strayed past the captain to Pedro, Lourenço, and the +first Mayoruna crew following a few feet behind. His face was +inscrutable, and he spoke no word. + +"You're with friends. Understand? Friends. You're going home. These +Indians are friends, too. Get that? _Friends!_" + +The green eyes hung on McKay's face again; but, as before, no answer +came in word, movement, or expression. + +"No good, Rod," said Knowlton, who could not see the rescued man's face, +but watched McKay's. "'Fraid I knocked his last brains down his throat. +Dead from the neck up." + +"I don't know about that. He doesn't look vacant. See here, Rand. We're +going to land and eat! You hungry? Uh-huh. Thought you'd understand +that. He's alive, Merry. Maybe not all here, but enough to get us." + +"Good!" + +The blond man turned his attention downstream again. Soon he suggested, +"How about landing at that little open space down there at the left, +Lourenço?" + +"Very good, senhor. It looks dry." + +The canoe swerved and floated down to a spot on the left shore where +bright light poured down from an opening in the overhead wall of +foliage. + +"Now look here, Rand," warned the captain. "We'll untie you. But if you +try to duck into the bush, now or later, you get shot. Shot! +Understand?" + +He tapped his pistol, and the gray eyes boring into the green ones were +hard as chilled steel. For the first time Rand responded--a slow, short +nod. + +McKay cut the cord around the wild man's ankles, then stepped ashore and +held out a hand. Rand arose quietly, jumped to the earth unassisted, +lifted his bad foot and stared at it, then limped onward into a spot +where the sun now shone bright and warm, and sat down to bask. + +"Have to fix that foot, I expect," yawned Knowlton. "But my eyes right +now are one solid ache, and I'm going to rest them. Watch him, will you, +Rod? Can't tell what he might do. Of course you wouldn't shoot him, +but--" + +"Wouldn't I? Not to kill, no. But if he makes one break I'll drill a leg +for him. He's going to the States!" + +"Sure. I'm with you all the way. Now beat it and let me repose myself." + +He bathed his eyes, then lay down in the canoe with a wet handkerchief +across them. Pedro and Lourenço already were ashore and raiding the +slender packs for food. The Mayorunas were debarking and watching each +new boat as it drew up, their eyes on the women who had wielded paddles +with them but whose faces they now saw closely for the first time. In +the shaft of sunlight McKay stood tall and forbidding, rifle in the +crook of one arm, hat pulled low, guarding the gaunt man at his feet and +viewing the landing of the expedition. + +The women, all young, numbered eleven. Their skins looked slightly +pallid, their eyes too big and black, their faces somewhat drawn--the +results of close confinement and anxiety; but none showed any sign of +abuse. For commercial reasons alone, Umanuh had seen to it that the +woman flesh he held for sale should remain uninjured. Now, saved from +the slave trail or worse, the girls showed no more emotion than if on a +mere journey after turtles or fish. A few spoke to men whom they +evidently knew. Others gathered in a dumb cluster and awaited whatever +might come next. With these Tucu talked in gruff monosyllables. + +When all were ashore, a dozen of the men went into the jungle to hunt. +The others sought firewood, inspected weapons, talked with one another +and with the girls, who stared at McKay and asked who he was. A number +of the warriors looked sourly at Rand, whose face still bore the Red +Bone tribal streaks which now, to Mayoruna minds, was the insignia of +the enemy. All knew he was the man who had been sought, all saw that he +was not a Red Bone, but a white man; yet their mental reaction to the +sight of the sinister red cross on the forehead and the straight cheek +lines was rabidly hostile. McKay, all-seeing, decided to wash Rand's +face for him before journeying much farther. But Rand himself gave no +sign that he either knew or cared what the feeling of the Mayorunas +might be. Utterly impassive, he stared back at them. + +Then one of the women pointed at him and said something to Tucu. The +tall watchdog's jaw set a little harder as he waited the effect. +Somewhat to his surprise, Tucu and a couple of the other men now gave +Rand a more friendly look. Soon afterward Tucu passed Lourenço, who +talked with him a few minutes. Catching the Brazilian's eye, the captain +motioned him nearer and asked for any news. + +"Tucu says, Capitao, that most of these girls are from _malocas_ other +than that of Monitaya, though some of Monitaya's women also are here. +And one of them says this man, the Raposa, tried to release them a short +time ago and was nearly killed by the Red Bones for it. They let him +live only because he is crazy, and they fear to kill a crazy man." + +"What! He tried to get them clear?" + +"Yes. He opened the door and motioned for them to run, but before they +could escape they were caught. He was badly beaten. You will remember +that he was hiding behind that same house when Pedro and Senhor Knowlton +saw him. Perhaps he meant to try again." + +"Hm! Crazy and wild, but a white man for all that. How did you manage to +free the women?" + +"Very simple," was the cool answer. "We stabbed the guards, opened the +door, and came back to the creek with the women." + +"Just like that, eh? And the guards made no resistance, I suppose." + +"Not much," grinned the bushman. "They were not allowed to." + +"I see. Very simple, as you say. About as simple as our calm and +unhurried departure." + +"Something like that, Capitao. What do you desire for breakfast--salt +fish and coffee, or coffee and salt fish?" + +"A little of everything, thanks. Here comes some monkey meat, too." + +The first of the hunters had returned, bringing two big red howlers. +Others drifted in at intervals, and not one returned empty handed; for +here in the virgin jungle the game was plentiful, particularly at this +early hour. Soon the air was heavy with the odor of broiling meat, and +from the fire of the Brazilians the fragrance of coffee was wafted to +the nostrils of the recumbent Knowlton. He arose, swallowing fast. + +"Gee! I'm half drowned!" was his humorous complaint. "The smell of eats +makes my mouth water so fast I have to gasp for air. Must tickle your +nose, too, eh, Rand, old top?" + +Rand, famished though he was, gave no sign of assent or of hunger. In +fact, he gave no sign of anything. Stoically he sat, eyes front. + +"By thunder! the man's got pride!" the lieutenant added, in a lower +tone. "Almost ready to keel over from lack of food, but stiff as a +cigar-store Indian. Darned if I'm not beginning to respect him!" + +Tucu approached, carrying two big monkey haunches. One he offered to +McKay, the other to Rand. The latter's immobility vanished in a flash. +With a lightning grab he seized the proffered meat and sank his teeth in +it. As he wolfed down the tough flesh the three men standing over +exchanged glances. Tucu laid a hand on his stomach and pressed inward, +signifying that the man had long gone hungry. The others nodded. Then +they split the other haunch between them and fell to gnawing. + +Lourenço, bringing coffee to the captain, asked Tucu in what direction +the Monitaya houses lay. Without hesitation the Indian pointed off to +the left. The Brazilian glanced at the creek, estimating its general +direction and rate of flow, then returned to his fire. + +Offered coffee, Rand took it and sipped it with evident relish. Likewise +he accepted a cigarette, which he puffed like a man just learning to +smoke--or one who has not smoked for years. For his meat, his drink, and +his smoke he gave no indication of gratitude. His attitude was as +indifferent and matter-of-fact as if he were one of the Mayorunas. When +his smoke was ended he began inspecting his bad foot. + +"Let's see that," said Knowlton, dropping on one knee. "Looks pretty +sore. Yes, it's more than sore; it's infected. How'd you get it, +anyway?" + +No answer. Knowlton probed his face keenly. Rand straightened out his +legs, wriggled his toes, and scowled. + +"Queer!" muttered the lieutenant, rising. "He looks as if he actually +didn't know how he got that wound. You'd think he'd remember that much, +anyhow. I sure am afraid his head is all scrambled up." + +He went to the canoe, returned with his meager medical kit, and knelt +again. + +"Now listen here, Rand. I don't know how well you understand me, but I'm +taking the chance. This foot has to be opened up and cleaned out. +Otherwise you're going to have serious trouble with it. I'm going to +hurt you. If you raise a row you'll get an anæsthetic--a swift punch +under the ear. Better sit still and make no fuss." + +With which he went to work. He did a thorough job, and there was no +doubt that it hurt. But Rand gave no trouble, nor even a sign of +pain--except that he dug his fingers into the dirt. + +"Good boy!" the amateur surgeon approved, when he finished. "You're a +Spartan--if you happen to remember what that is. Now we'll move on. But +before we go, wash your face good and hard. Get that tribe paint off. +These Indians with us don't like it. You're no Indian, anyhow; you're +white, like us. Savvy? White man. Wash off paint!" + +He rolled up his kit and returned to the canoe. The Mayorunas, men and +women, were entering their own craft. Rand sat motionless a moment, +McKay and the Brazilians watching him keenly. Slowly then he got up of +his own accord, limped to the water's edge, and began to scrub his face. + +When he desisted the marks still showed, for the red dye clung +stubbornly to his skin; but they were fainter than before. The other men +eyed him thoughtfully, none speaking. He settled himself in his former +place, curled up, and began to doze. + +"A queer fish!" Pedro said, softly. "Is he crazy or not?" + +"Hanged if I know," replied McKay. "He's no maniac, anyhow. I'd give +real money to know just what his mental condition is. But we can forget +him for a while. I'm going to let you fellows sleep by turns now. I had +some sleep last night; you've had none at all. Merry, your eyes need +rest. You curl up in the bow and snooze one hour. Then another man, and +so on. And how about letting Tucu lead the parade again?" + +"Excellent, Capitao! I was thinking of that." Lourenço talked to Tucu, +who swung out into the current. The boat of the white men followed, then +the others. At a steady cruising speed the brigade surged on downstream. + +Knowlton's allotted hour passed. Pedro took his place and was instantly +asleep. In turn he was aroused, and Lourenço laid down his paddle. But +just then Tucu's canoe slowed and floated in to the left bank. + +The others backed water and looked at a very narrow ravine--almost a +cleft--in a rising hillside. Through it led a lane of water. From the +third boat, in which were two women of the Monitaya tribe, now came +voices carrying information to the Indian leader. At once he turned his +boat into the cleft. + +"This is the connection we have been seeking." Lourenço explained. "The +women say the boats of their captors came through this crack in the +hill. At the end we shall find the creek of Monitaya." + +The women spoke truth. After threading their way along the weedy +water-path, which was barely wide enough to give passage for the boats, +they emerged at a slant into another stream. Down this, with the sure +instinct for direction of the hereditary jungle-dweller, Tucu turned his +prow without asking the women whether to go with or against the current. +Once more on the waters of their home creek, the Mayorunas quickened +their strokes and howled merrily on toward their _malocas_. + +Lourenço took his nap and resumed his place. Hour after hour the fleet +sped on. Noon passed without a halt, the paddlers munching at whatever +fragments remained from breakfast. By turns the Americans and Brazilians +each got another hour's sleep, McKay consenting to relax when all his +mates had rested. Rand dozed and awoke at intervals, seeming content and +comfortable despite his cramped position. + +By four o'clock even the Mayorunas began to lag in their strokes. +Excluding the halt at sunrise, they now had been journeying for fifteen +hours, in the last nine of which they had covered many miles of +serpentine water. The heat of the day and the constant drive of the +paddles had taken their toll, and now the body of every man fiercely +demanded more food. McKay, knowing that in jungle travel distance is not +a matter of miles, but of hours, had begun to figure that the journey +which had taken nearly five days of overland work might be completed +that night by the swiftly moving canoes. But now, recognizing the signs +of exhaustion, he realized that without some powerful spur the Indians +would not attempt to reach the home _malocas_ until the morrow. + +Then the spur came. Even as Tucu began scanning the shores for a good +camp site, he and every other Mayoruna suddenly ceased paddling and +threw up his head. Faint and far, a xylophonic call of beaten wooden +bars rapped across the jungle, rising and falling in swift, regular +cadence--a sirenical flow and ebb of sound waves. Over and over it +undulated, rapid, incessant, imperative. + +A chorus of excited grunts broke from the canoe brigade. The dugout of +Tucu leaped away like a roweled horse. Lourenço and Pedro buried their +paddles in mighty strokes, hurling their boat ahead to keep from being +run down by those behind. + +Lourenço barked at Tucu, who flung back an answer. + +"Paddle hard, Capitao! If we do not keep up we shall be wrecked. That +message is the war call of the Mayorunas--calling in the hunters from +the forest to take arms against an enemy. We must race now with these +madmen around us, or we go under. Paddle!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +STRATEGY + + +In the last light of the fast-fading day the canoes darted from the +forest into the clearing where stood the Monitaya _malocas_. + +Long before their arrival the siren call had ceased, but there had been +no lessening of speed by the racing dugouts. On the contrary, the last +long mile had been covered in a final desperate spurt, the paddles +swinging in swift unison to the accompaniment of a ferocious chant of +one syllable: "Hough! Hough! Hough!" This explosive cadence had echoed +down the stream ahead of them; and now, as the panting crews emerged +from the jungle, they found themselves flanked by a long line of their +fellow-warriors, bristling with drawn arrows and ready spear points. But +of the enemy whose presence that great xylophone had betokened there was +no sign. + +At sight of the familiar feather bonnets of their own men the tense +Monitayans let their weapons slowly sink. And when Tucu, leaping ashore, +gaspingly demanded news of the fight, the line dissolved into a mob +which rushed to welcome him and his mates. In the first few breaths it +was learned that no fight had yet taken place, but that all the warriors +had been brought in and ordered to prepare to march at the next sunrise; +and that the sudden war call had been sent out as the result of the +arrival of a stranger. + +Then the crowd parted, and through it came striding two men whose +appearance caused the white men to erupt into hoarse shouts of greeting. +One, whose hard face swiftly relaxed into a half smile of relief, was +the great chief himself. The other, whose jutting jaw suddenly dropped +and whose blue eyes opened in incredulity, was Tim--Tim, once more +strong and florid and aggressive, gripping his rifle, astounded at the +sight of his comrades standing there alive and alert. They soon learned +why. + +Dropping his gun, he sprang at them with an inarticulate roar of +welcome. He wrung their hands, pounded their shoulders, laughed, cried, +swore, all at once. Then he burst out: + +"Glory be! Ye're alive, homelier 'n ever and tough as tripe! We thought +ye was wiped out sure! We was all set to start in the mornin' and pull +them Red Bones to pieces. Mebbe we'll do it yet, too. How'd ye break +through? Did ye kill Sworn-off and his gang?" + +"Schwandorf? Gang? Haven't seen anybody but Red Bones--though we sure +saw plenty of them," replied Knowlton. "What are you talking about?" + +"Then ye missed him by about one point windage. When'd ye leave? Last +night? I bet he's there by now. Gee! Where'd ye git them girls? And +who's this guy? Great gosh! Is he the Raposy? Wal, for the love o' +Mike--" + +"Tim!" broke in McKay. "What's all this about? Now wait. This is the +Raposa. These girls are Mayoruna women held prisoners by the Red Bones. +We got them last night and lit out in the middle of a general +engagement. Now open up with your news." + +"Right, Cap. We got a visitor to-day--old friend of ourn--li'l' old +Hozy, the only white guy in that Peruvian crew we had. He's all dolled +up like an Injun--shaved face, tribe paint, and so on. He come through +the Injun country that way--I dunno yet how he done it, him bein' a +Peruvian and all, but he got through, and he says Sworn-off and a whole +gang of bad eggs is back here to git this Raposy guy and all the girls +they can lay hands on. He says Sworn-off's got them Red Bones workin' +for him, and you fellers must be massacreed sure by now. + +"Good thing I was here when he come, or he'd be cut up and in the +stewpot. Monitaya's a good skate, but he sure is poison to anything +Peruvian, and soon as Hozy begun to try to talk he got wise and dang +near bumped him off. I got him to cool down some, and he believes Hozy's +tellin' the truth, but even at that they got Hozy tied up like a dog. +Come look at him." + +But it was necessary to wait awhile for Tucu and Lourenço to tell +Monitaya the tale of what had taken place; for the chief demanded +immediate and full details, and not until he had them would he return to +his _maloca_ and his hammock throne. By that time the little moon was +again ruler of the sky and the keen hunger of the voyagers had grown +ravenous. Followed by the rescued and the rescuers, he then stalked into +the tribal house and to his usual place, where he commanded that food be +brought. + +On the ground, directly in front of the chief's hammock, sat a gaunt, +painted Indian around whose neck was a stout noose, the other end of the +cord being held by a muscular savage whose skull-smashing club was +gripped loosely in his other fist. As the whites reached them the noosed +man's face cracked in a grin. + +"Greetings, señores," said the voice of José. "You will pardon me for +remaining seated, yes? The man behind me is itching for an excuse to +crush my head." + +"José!" exclaimed both Knowlton and McKay. Though Tim had said José was +"tied like a dog," they had not thought to find the expression literal +truth. The sight angered them and they turned to Lourenço. + +"Tell Monitaya we want this man freed!" McKay snapped. At his peremptory +tone the cannibal chieftain looked oddly at him, and when Lourenço +translated the demand--though in a more diplomatic manner--he scowled. +But he gave the clubman the word and the rope was lifted from the +prisoner's neck. + +"_Gracias, amigos_," he bowed. "If I still remain seated, it is because +I am very weary--and I have not eaten since yesterday." + +His thin face and his projecting ribs not only corroborated his simple +announcement, but indicated that for more than one day his food and rest +had been almost _nil_. Naked, painted, minus his fierce mustache and +flamboyant headkerchief, he appeared a far different man than the +domineering _puntero_ of a short time back. But his bold black eyes, his +reckless grin, and his mocking tone proved him the same swashbuckling +José, undaunted by hunger, exhaustion, or his position as prisoner of +man eaters whose enmity was implacable. + +"Well, you're going to eat now, or we'll know why not!" vowed Knowlton. +"We understand that you brought a warning to Monitaya. Is this his way +of treating men who risk their lives to befriend him?" + +José shrugged. + +"Once an enemy, always an enemy. That is their rule. And do not think +that I traveled the bush and threw myself into this snake heap from love +of Monitaya. I do not care if he and all his race are blown to hell. I +am here because, as I once told you, José Martinez never forgets. Thank +you, señor, I will eat now and talk later." + +Deftly he extracted a chunk of meat from a clay pot which had been +placed before Knowlton and in turn tendered to him. Monitaya watched him +eat, but gave no sign of disapproval; and the Americans, and even the +Brazilians, made an aggressive show of friendship toward the lone +Peruvian for the express benefit of the chief. They knew well that by +their rescue of the Mayoruna women they had made their own position +among these people virtually impregnable, and that their recognition of +José as a friend probably would be his only bulwark. Wherefore they left +no doubt in the minds of the watchers as to where he stood in their +regard. + +Monitaya, sitting in regal dignity, looked down upon two parties of +seven feasting with famished speed--the rescued women who were not +members of his own tribe, and the four Americans, two Brazilians, and +one Peruvian. All the others had scattered--Tucu and his band to their +own family triangles, and the four Monitaya girls to become the nuclei +of feminine groups which demanded intimate accounts of their capture and +treatment by the captors. + +To the strange women at his feet the chief paid scant attention now, +though he meant to interrogate them after their hunger was satisfied. +His eyes dwelt on Rand, the strange combination of white man, Indian, +and jungle demon of whom he had heard so much and on whose tanned skin +the red skeleton streaks told the tale of a "mind out of the skull." +José and Tim stared in frank curiosity at the dead-alive newcomer, whose +silent composure remained totally unperturbed. But the seven new girls, +though ignored by the chief and his guests, were by no means neglected +by the other men of the _maloca_, being thoroughly stared at by most of +the young bucks--and, it must be confessed, by a goodly proportion of +the married men also. + +When at length the meal was finished Monitaya commanded the girls to +stand before him and narrate their experiences. The men lit smokes, José +seizing the proffered cigarette with avidity, Rand accepting his with +the usual odd deliberation. + +"Wal, Hozy, old feller, ye're in right with the chief now," asserted +Tim. "Ye got all our gang with ye, and she's some li'l' old gang, I'll +tell the world. This feller Renzo can talk cannibal so good he makes +Monitaya hunt for the dictionary, and he'll tell the chief in ten +seconds what I tried half an hour to say this afternoon--that ye belong. +I 'ain't been here long enough to learn much o' their lingo, ye +understand. If I could spout it like French, now, there wouldn't been no +trouble." + +McKay and Knowlton snickered. They knew Tim's French was several degrees +worse than the usual American doughboy's "frog" talk. + +"Good thing you couldn't," derided Knowlton. "You'd have had José +crucified before we got here." + +"That's right, gimme the razz! Course, I did have a li'l' trouble makin' +some o' them frogs understand, but that was because they was so ignorant +they didn't know their own language when they heard it spoke right. +Anyways, ye got to admit Hozy's still with us and sassy as ever, and he +wouldn't been if Timmy Ryan hadn't been round to powwow for him." + +"You have it right, señor," José agreed, gravely. "Without you I should +now be dead. I can speak the Mayoruna tongue quite well, but of what use +is it to talk any language when men will not listen? It was you and your +gun that saved me." + +"Gun? Good Lord! Did you pull a gun on Monitaya?" ejaculated the +lieutenant. + +"Aw, no. That is--I guess mebbe I did wave me piece around while I was +arguin'--I can always convince a guy better if I got somethin' in me +hand. But I didn't git real rough." + +"You are lucky to be still alive, Senhor Tim," said Lourenço. "If +Monitaya were not the man he is you would not be alive. I am glad we +have returned." + +"Meanin' I need a guardeen? Say, lookit here now--" + +"As you were!" clipped McKay. "We're all wasting time. José, let's hear +your report. I thought you were going to put Schwandorf out of action +for good?" + +"And I am, Capitan! That is why I now am here. If I had reached him +immediately after leaving the Nunes place it would have been done at +once. But a man travels slowly when he is alone and has lost much blood, +and before I met Schwandorf again I had time to think coolly. Then when +I saw him I changed my plans. + +"Some days down the river I met him traveling fast in a canoe paddled by +hard men whom I know. He pretended to be greatly grieved when I told him +you all were dead. Oh yes, señores, I told him that! I was playing with +him, and it amused me to see how he thought he was deceiving me when I +was really fooling him. I said we were attacked by Indians a short way +above the Nunes place and that I alone escaped. Then he said something +that made me decide not to kill him for a time. + +"He told me he had learned that this man here--his name is Rand, +yes?--that the man Rand was a bank thief who had run away from North +America, and that a reward would be paid for him. He said your real +reason for coming here was that you were detectives trying to earn the +reward. That is false, is it not, señores?" + +"We're no detectives. Rand's no thief." + +"Ah, so I thought. But Schwandorf often tells truth to conceal his lies, +so that it is sometimes hard to know which is true and which untrue. He +went on to say he had warned you not to come into this Indian country, +and he was sorry you had been killed--the snake--but since you were dead +we might get the money for ourselves. If we succeeded in catching the +man Rand and taking him out alive I should get half the reward, or five +hundred dollars. + +"I saw plainly what his plan was. I might be useful to him in catching +Rand if Rand was out in the bush, for I have traveled this country alone +more than once and am a far better bushman than the German. But whether +I got Rand or not, I never should live to demand my part of the money. I +know too much about Schwandorf--things which I shall not tell now. So +when the right time should come, José would meet with a fatal accident, +such as a bullet in the back, or a knife in the throat while sleeping. +But I did not let him know I saw this. I pretended to fall in with his +plan like the fool he thought me to be. + +"It was not Rand alone that brought him here. You have brought back +Mayoruna women from the Red Bone country, so you know the Red Bones are +women stealers. And they steal for Schwandorf. You may believe me or +not, señores, but I did not know this until the German told me. Oh yes, +I knew he dealt in women, but of the Red Bone part of his business I was +ignorant. As soon as I learned it I saw how I could put the illustrious +Señor Schwandorf out of action, as you say, and at the same time try to +save you. + +"I sharpened my knife to a razor edge, deserted the German when we +reached the right place, shaved with my knife, painted myself with the +red and black plant dyes, and came overland to this place, thinking you +would be here if still alive. But you had traveled faster than I +expected and had gone into the Red Bone country, so my chance to save +you seemed to have passed. I could only try to tell this chief the Red +Bones were stealers of his women and that the German was with them, +knowing that if he believed me he would go on the war trail against them +and kill them all. But if Señor Tim had not befriended me I should have +died too soon to tell my tale. That is all, señores. Now can you spare a +little more tobacco?" + +They could and they promptly did. With a new cigarette glowing he lay +back and looked quizzically at the women lined up before Monitaya. + +"How many men has Schwandorf?" asked McKay. + +"About twenty in all, Capitan. There were eight in his crew, and they +were to meet a dozen more at a place on the Peruvian side." + +"All riflemen?" + +"_Si._ He brought many cartridges for them. They are to raid tribe +houses of these people." + +"Capture women and run them into Peru?" + +"_Si._" José yawned as if speaking of a deal in salt fish. + +The Americans looked thoughtfully around the big house. They saw that +every man near them was inspecting some kind of weapon--making sure that +bow cords were unfrayed, that arrow heads and spear points were firm, +that the long blowguns had received no cast from suspension, and that +darts were absolutely straight and true. The strong but cruel faces of +the warriors were stamped with malignant hatred of the Red Bone tribe +and the Blackbeard who enslaved their women. The command to prepare for +a march at dawn had not been withdrawn. + +"We'll be expected to go, too, and I'd sure like another crack at +Umanuh, not to mention the Schwandorf outfit," said Knowlton, "but we +have friend Rand on our hands now, and our first duty is to get him out +of here safely." + +"Aw, Looey, have a heart! I 'ain't had no action since that li'l' scrap +down the river, and I got to have some excitement before we blow. What's +more, we can't beat it now, with Monitaya dependin' on us to fight on +his side. He'd git sore, and I don't blame him." + +His superior officers and the Brazilians frowned. Every man of them +itched to close with the enemy in one final decisive battle. Yet-- + +"What 'll we do with Rand?" Knowlton voiced the general thought. + +The green eyes of the Raposa turned to him, rested long on his, traveled +deliberately along the other faces. And then, to the utter astonishment +of all, the dumb spoke. + +"I'll fight," said Rand. + +Speechless, the men around him stared. His face was inscrutable as ever, +his eyes fathomless, his voice flat and toneless. But slowly he raised +his hands as if holding a bow; twitched his right thumb and forefinger +in the motion of loosing a shaft; let the hands sink. His gaze calmly +lifted from theirs and dwelt on the farthest wall. Not another word did +he speak. + +"Begorry! there's yer answer!" triumphed Tim. "He says, 'Fight!' And I +bet he can sling a wicked bow and arrer, at that. Don't ye s'pose he +wants a crack at them Red Bones, after the way they used him?" + +"I think, comrades, that the man has settled the matter for us," Pedro +seconded. "None of us wants to run away; and, as Tim says, we are +expected to help Monitaya. We should be considered cowards, worse than +dogs, if we refused. If we do not fight the Red Bones we may have to +fight these Mayorunas, who now are our friends. We must stay." + +McKay nodded, still studying the expressionless countenance of Rand. + +"That's settled," he announced, crisply. "Now, Lourenço, find out +Monitaya's plan of battle." + +The chief had finished his examination of the women and Lourenço +promptly put the question. Monitaya laconically replied. + +"His purpose is not changed by our arrival, Capitao. He and his men go +to-morrow to attack and destroy the Red Bones. When they reach the town +of Umanuh they will surround it, and all will rush in when the chief +gives his yell of war." + +"About what I expected. An Indian has a single-track mind always. But +his strategy is rotten. Might be good enough if he had only Umanuh to +deal with, but with Schwandorf in the game it's different. Ask him how +he expects to protect his women while he's gone." + +"He says," Lourenço reported, "that there will be no danger to the +women, because his warriors will be between the women and their enemies +until those enemies are dead." + +"Very simple. So simple that it's foolish. He doesn't figure on the +other fellow's mind at all; doesn't realize that a man like Schwandorf +is bound to outguess him on such straightaway tactics and isn't at all +likely to play into his hands. But that's the exact situation. The +German will outguess him, and it's up to him to outguess the German in +turn. We'll do his guessing for him. + +"Schwandorf goes into Umanuh's town, learns what's happened, finds the +Red Bones frothing at the mouth, and is sore himself. He figures that +we've returned here with the women, that Monitaya's men are blood-mad +against the Red Bones, and that they'll do just what they are planning +to do--march on Red Bone town and leave their women unprotected except +by the old men, whose defensive power is negligible. He is in this +country for the express purpose of getting girls, and with Monitaya's +men away from their _malocas_ he has a wide-open chance to make the +biggest slave haul of his life. So he plans to outmaneuver Monitaya, +attack this place, capture all the young women, allow the Red Bones to +massacre everyone else and burn the houses, and then move on without the +loss of a man. After that perhaps he intends to find us and get Rand, or +perhaps to attack other Mayoruna _malocas_. At any rate, his first +objective is this place. Am I right so far?" + +"Dead right," Knowlton nodded. + +"Very well. Now he may figure that, having found the water connection +between the two creeks, the Mayorunas will come against Umanuh by the +canoe route. Or he may think they'll make the overland trip. In either +case, the Red Bones have to come through the bush, for the simple reason +that they haven't boats enough to carry all their force. Their canoes +were rather few when we were there, and we commandeered several of them +for our own use. If they decide to come part of the way in canoes +they'll have to work a come-and-go transport service, bringing the +fighting men down in batches to some rendezvous from which they must +finish the journey on foot. Chances are that they'll disregard the +canoes and all march overland by some route that would dodge the +Mayoruna line of march. But in either case they're coming here. And it's +here, in the place where he's not expected to be, that Monitaya should +meet them. Let him fortify himself and await the assault. It will come." + +"And we shall be saved many weary miles of leg work," José smiled. +"Capitan, your strategy is magnificent." + +"Begorry! it ain't so bad at that!" Tim approved. "Hozy, me and you will +have our hammicks slung out front here when the show starts and do our +shootin' prone. Suits me fine. Put it up to the chief, Renzo." + +Lourenço did. Very carefully he explained it all to Monitaya, dwelling +on the fact that McKay himself was a warrior chieftain and familiar with +the fighting methods of such men as the atrocious Blackbeard, and +depicting graphically the horror of an attack by the barbarous Red Bones +on the defenseless women. It took him some time to divert the chief's +stubborn mind from the original plan, but in the end he succeeded. + +To the vast astonishment and disappointment of the vengeful warriors, +Monitaya curtly announced that the projected march would not take place. +They stared as if disbelieving their ears, and more than one black look +was given Lourenço. But not a man questioned the countermanding of +orders, not a mutter was heard. The great chief had spoken, and his word +was final. + +Reluctantly they laid aside the weapons on which they had been toiling +with such purposeful zeal. The chief watched them with a little smile of +pride--pride in their zest for war, pride in their unquestioning +acceptance of his dampening order. Then he coolly told them to continue +their work; told them, further, that the next morning all the streams +were to be poisoned, new traps set, and scouts stationed far out on +every trail to await and report the approach of foes. Instantly their +faces flamed again and from every quarter of the wide house rose an +excited hum. They were to fight, after all! + +"Tough eggs, these lads, if ye ask me," yawned Tim. "Bet ye we'll see a +row worth lookin' at when she does break." + +He forebore to mention the fact that in rifle power their assailants +would outnumber them four to one. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE BATTLE OF THE TRIBES + + +The next four days, though they were days of waiting, were busy enough +to satisfy the most impatient Mayoruna warrior. + +Outposts were established on every route by which the attacking force +would be likely to approach the twin _malocas_, the watchmen being given +the strictest commands not to fight, nor even to allow themselves to be +seen, but to run at top speed with the warning. + +Poison detachments went forth to collect the ingredients for making +deadly the water and the weapons. Those detailed to the work of +polluting the streams gathered quantities of blue-blossomed, +short-podded plants with yellow roots, the roots being pulped and thrown +into the slow currents, which straightway became fatal to man or beast +The wurali squad procured their favorite materials and, in a flimsy shed +well away from the houses, prepared a plentiful supply of the venomed +brew. + +New traps were set at points where a man or two might be picked off, +though it was realized that these would have little effect on the final +result. And inside the big houses men especially skilled in the +manufacture of arrows and darts toiled swiftly and steadily from dawn +till far into the night. + +These activities, however, were only the usual defensive preparations +made by the warriors whenever they knew a sizable body of foes was +somewhere in the vicinity. It remained for the brains of the white men +to devise additional features, simple enough in themselves, but +astounding to the savages, who were accustomed only to the primitive +battle tactics of their ancestors. For the first time in their lives the +cannibals found themselves digging in--and also digging out. + +After a survey of the terrain and a catechism of Lourenço and Monitaya +as to the usual methods of attack and defense, the two officers broached +an idea born of the exigencies of the situation. As they expected, the +great chief was somewhat slow to approve it, for it involved a literal +undermining of the walls of his fortresses. But despite the natural +inflexibility of his mental processes he was an unusually intelligent +savage, and eventually the patient reiteration of the advantages of the +scheme won him first to assent and then almost to enthusiasm. Wherefore +the amazed tribesmen were set to work, armed with crude wooden shovels, +in digging holes under the logs which sheltered them from man, beast, +and jungle demon. + +All along the walls, at intervals marked by McKay and Knowlton, the +tunnels were dug. At the same time another large gang excavated before +each of the _malocas_ a deep, curving trench, the two long pits being +separated by a ten-foot space of solid earth affording free passage from +the houses to the creek. Meanwhile the women and the older children were +weaving flimsy covers from withes and vines. As soon as a tunnel was +completed it was masked outside the walls by one of these covers, on +which a thin layer of earth and grass was laid. The two trenches were +likewise concealed, and the loose earth was carried inside the house and +packed solidly against the walls flanking the doors. + +At sundown of the fourth day the work was ended. And so well was it done +that when the great chief, his subchiefs, and his foreign allies went on +a final tour of inspection they could find no sign that the houses were +honeycombed with exits or that the ground in front of the little +entrances was not solid at all points. + +"Rod and I took the idea from those pit traps out on the trails," +Knowlton explained for the dozenth time. "Holes are covered to look +exactly like the rest of the ground. Every man of us has to be inside +when the enemy arrives, but we have to get out quick when the right time +comes, so we go under the walls. And can't you see those brave women +stealers go kerplunk down into the trenches? Oh boy!" + +Whereat Lourenço and José smiled as if enjoying a secret joke. They +were. For they knew something of which the Americans were not +aware--that Monitaya had improved on the trench-trap idea of the whites +by studding the bottom of those trenches with barbed araya bones smeared +with wurali. + +"Yeah, and I figger them guys 'll git some jolt when these houses, which +'ain't got nobody in 'em but women and kids, begin to spit lead out o' +loopholes and spew screechin' cannibals up out o' the ground. Gosh! I +wouldn't miss seein' Sworn-off's face for a keg o' beer--and that's +sayin' somethin'." + +Wherein Tim expressed the general sentiment. + +So ended the fourth day. When the fifth broke no man showed himself +outside the walls. Except the few outposts, every male of the Monitaya +_malocas_ bided within, awaiting with growing tension the arrival of the +enemy. It was more than likely, McKay had pointed out, that the main +body of the barbarous force led by Schwandorf would be preceded by a +handful of scouts, and quite possible that one or more of these would +slip past the outguards and spy on the tribal houses. The sight of even +one warrior would instantly apprise any such spy that the others must be +near, and the word would go back at all speed to the Red Bones. +Wherefore the only Monitayans to pass through the tiny doorways that +morning were a few young women sent out as bait. These, naturally, took +good care to stay near the entrances. + +Within, the men waited at their appointed places. Each tunnel had its +quota of warriors, the number being divided evenly to assure a speedy +and simultaneous exit. The Americans had elected to fight from the +_maloca_ of the great chief, while the Brazilians and José were to +garrison the doorway of the other house as soon as the warning came. +Rand, wordless and imperturbable as ever, now was armed with a strong +bow and plenty of new arrows with unpoisoned heads; and he, of course, +would remain with his own countrymen. Thus, preparations completed, all +settled themselves to the interminable hours of waiting. + +Up on the heaped earth near the doorway, which made the walls +practically bullet-proof to a height of six feet and thus would protect +the women and children, one or more of the Americans was constantly on +the lookout through some inconspicuous loophole. Hour after hour dragged +past, and no unusual movement or sound came to reward their vigilance. +Under the glare of the sun the roof and walls grew hot; under the silent +strain of endless anticipation the impatience of the fighting men became +a ferment. At length Pedro, unable to keep still, mounted to a peephole +near Knowlton. Scarcely had he put his eye to the opening when both men +sucked in their breath. + +At the edge of the bush a man's head peered from behind a tree. And at +the same moment a single canoe came creeping out of the bush and up to +the landing place. The head behind the tree was that of a Red Bone spy. +The two in the small canoe were Yuara and a companion from the Suba +tribe. + +"Lourenço!" hoarsely whispered Pedro. "Yuara comes. Tell girls to run to +welcome him and guide him between the pits. A spy is watching. If Yuara +walks on the pits he dies and our trap is revealed. _Por amor de Deus_, +send girls quickly!" + +Lourenço acted instantly. Seizing two young women, he propelled them +doorward, talking swiftly the while. Yuara and his mate were already +advancing innocently toward the few girls outside, none of whom had wit +enough to warn him. But the two whom the Brazilian had grasped happened +to be of quick intelligence, and now they darted out. Before the +visiting pair could reach the death trap the girls were upon them, +laughing as if delighted to see a man once more, and deftly turning them +aside to the point where two unobtrusive stubs marked the bridge of +safety. + +Vastly astonished by such effusive welcome from two girls whom they did +not know, but by no means displeased thereby, the young warriors of the +Suba clan were piloted to the door and inside. As they disappeared, the +head of the spy also vanished. + +"Woof!" muttered Knowlton, wiping sweat from his brow. "That was close! +Here's hoping we have no more visitors." + +Yuara and his companion meanwhile were being interrogated by both +Lourenço and Monitaya, who in turn enlightened them as to the present +state of affairs. At the promise of war the faces of the Suba men lit +up. + +"Yuara comes only on a visit to learn news," Lourenço told the rest. +"You remember that the day after our return a canoe was sent downstream +to a point where the wooden bars could be beaten and heard by Suba's +men, and that a warning against the Red Bones and Schwandorf was given +in that way. Yuara has become anxious to know more, so he is here." + +"If he sticks around he'll learn a lot," predicted Tim. + +With no waste of words or motion Yuara coolly attached himself and his +fellow-tribesman to McKay. Monitaya and his subchiefs were informed of +the arrival and departure of the enemy scout. The word passed among the +warriors, who, despite their innate equanimity, began to grit their +pointed teeth and quiver like dogs held in leash. But another hour +passed, and yet another; and still no word from the outposts arrived. + +Suddenly a chorus of screams shrilled from the women outside. In a +frenzy of fear they plunged through the doorways. Blending with their +outcries, a hoarse yell of ferocity rose raucously from the direction of +the creek. At once a louder ululation burst forth at the rear and sides +of the clearing. Monitaya's outguards had failed and the _malocas_ were +surrounded. + +Loping from the bush fringing the stream came a score of yellow-faced, +shirtless, barefooted brutes crisscrossed with cartridge belts and +gripping rifles. At their head loomed a burly black-whiskered creature +with a revolver in each hand--the malignant Schwandorf himself. + +Grinning like a pack of yellow-fanged wolves, they doubled toward the +low entrances, their guns spouting wantonly at the upper walls--a ragged +volley meant to terrorize the defenseless women within, none of whom +were to be killed until the handsomest had been cut out and set aside +for slavery. Some of the heavy bullets bored through between logs and +thudded wickedly into rafters and roof poles within. But from the +loopholes where the defending rifles lurked no shot cracked in reply. + +The fiendish howling of the Red Bones, sweeping in from all sides to the +butchery, swelled into a feline screech that almost drowned the roar of +the rifles. Into the view of the watchers at the loopholes streamed +hideous faces and naked brown bodies swerving inward from left and right +to follow at the heels of the Blackbeard and his gunmen. In a few +seconds more the trotting line of Peruvians was backed and flanked by a +horde of demons hungering for the taste of women and babes. On they +came-- + +With the suddenness of a cataclysm the ground opened. Riflemen vanished +in midstride. Savages screaming triumphant hate were gone in the flick +of an eye. Others, instinctively digging their heels into the ground the +instant those ahead of them disappeared, were hurled forward and down by +the momentum of the following mass. Before the rush could be checked the +trenches were packed with men struggling in frenzy to get out, wounding +themselves and one another with the deadly points of their poisoned +weapons. + +Of the twenty gunmen only four remained. They were the four immediately +behind Schwandorf. By blind chance the German had set foot on the narrow +isthmus separating the twin trenches, saving himself and the henchmen at +his heels from being engulfed. Now, as the Red Bones fought back from +the trap yawning before them, he and the surviving Peruvians stood +staring in momentary stupefaction at the welter of death on their +flanks. The malevolent yells of the savages had been cut short by the +catastrophe, and for the moment no sound was heard but the grunts and +snarls of struggling men. + +Then into the semisilence burst a mighty voice--the battlefield voice of +McKay. + +"Now! Fire at will!" + +The walls spat flame and lead. A scythe of death swept above the ground +where stood Schwandorf and his riflemen. The Peruvian half-breeds +collapsed and lay still. But Schwandorf, shocked into activity by the +impact of that first word, dodged death by an infinitesimal fraction of +a second. Hurling himself backward, he struck the earth just as the +bullets sped through the air over him. With a lightning rebound he was +up while fresh cartridges were jumping into the rifle barrels menacing +him. Headlong he dived into the mass of Red Bones just behind. And the +next bullets darting after him killed the savages, leaving him unharmed. + +The command of McKay and the crack of the rifles sent the quivering +Mayorunas into the fight. In a flash every masking tunnel cover was +thrown bodily into the air. Before the thunderstruck Red Bones had +recovered from the shock of finding their gun-armed leaders annihilated +and their mass being swept by swift-shooting rifles hidden in the walls, +they beheld a horde of vindictive foes erupting from under those walls +like warrior ants rushing from subterranean galleries. A blood-chilling +yell of concentrated fury smote their ears; a hastily loosed storm of +war arrows and short throwing-spears ripped into their flesh; a +swift-running arc of light-skinned men swerved around them, shooting and +stabbing as they went. They, who had so exultantly surrounded the homes +of women and children, now were surrounded in turn. + +From the doorway of Monitaya's _maloca_ the two Brazilians and José now +leaped forth and, firing as they ran, dashed to hold the entrance of the +other big house. A few arrows whirred around them during their transit, +but the shafts were shot hurriedly and missed. Meanwhile the three +bushmen were striking down enemies at every flash of their guns, firing +with the swift surety of veterans of many a running fight. They reached +their objective unwounded; and when they reached it a fringe of dead +foes marked their passage along the face of the hostile array. Once +within the door, they rapidly reloaded and sprayed lead along the +trenches, which, though now nearly full, had become a dead-line past +which no Red Bone sought to go. + +Up on the earth embankments within the chief's house the four Americans +fought steadily on; the soldiers shooting as coolly as if engaged merely +in rapid-fire target practice, the silent Rand methodically driving +arrows in swift succession from his wall-slit. Arrows thudded thickly +into the logs masking them. Bullets, too, slammed into their +rampart--bullets from the heavy revolvers of Schwandorf, who, ever +keeping himself protected by the bodies of his cannibal allies, shot +with both hands as the chance came. And the German could shoot. With +only the small gun muzzles as targets, he planted bullets so close as to +knock dirt more than once into the eyes of the riflemen and render them +momentarily useless. After a time he got a bullet fair into a loophole. + +Knowlton grunted suddenly, swayed back, toppled, fell down the parapet. +For a few seconds he lay still. + +"Looey!" howled Tim. "How ye fixed? Hurt bad?" + +The lieutenant heaved himself into a sitting position, stared around, +clapped a hand to his right shoulder, looked at the red smear his palm +brought away, reeled up, and scrambled back to his rifle. Schwandorf's +bullet had drilled clear through the shoulder, and in falling his head +had struck one of the upright poles. Without a word he got his gun into +action once more, shooting now from the left shoulder. Tim, with a tight +grin of relief, devoted himself once more to trying to shoot down the +dodging German. + +The encircling Mayorunas, their first paroxysm of fury vented, now +settled in cold hate to their work. On all sides their clubmen and +spearmen were bludgeoning and stabbing at the close-packed Red Bones, +leaping in, killing, springing back and onward with terrible efficiency. +Beyond these a thin but deadly line of bowmen poured arrows in +high-looping curves over the heads of the hand-to-hand combatants, the +shafts whizzing far up, turning, and plunging down unerringly into the +center of the enemy force. Each of those arrows could, and many did, end +the lives of two or three adversaries by gouging their skins and letting +the fearful wurali into their blood. The blowgun men too were darting +into every opening, handling their clumsy weapons like feathers and +constantly moving to spy out fresh targets. + +But the men of Monitaya were by no means escaping unscathed. The Red +Bones, assailed from every quarter and milling about in hopeless +disorder, were fighting now with desperate frenzy. Their own clubbers +and stabbers were charging out and smashing skulls or piercing abdomens, +their arrows rose in all directions at once, and some into whose veins +the wurali had struck sprang in the last moments of life on nearby foes +and bit like mad dogs. With a leader and a chance to form into any sort +of flying wedge they might have broken through with comparative ease and +taken a far heavier toll. But they had no leader: for Umanuh, whose name +meant "corpse," now was a corpse in truth, his merciless brain oozing +from a skull shattered by a Mayoruna clubman; and Schwandorf was very +busy looking out for Schwandorf. So it was every man for himself, with +the devil rapidly taking not only the hindmost, but the foremost as +well. + +Thicker and thicker fell the dead. The trenches now not only were filled +to the level of the ground, but piled with a windrow of bullet-torn +bodies knocked down by the ever-spitting rifles. José, Pedro, and +Lourenço abandoned all shelter and knelt in plain sight before the door +which they had kept clear of all close attack. Monitaya, until now a +field general who strode up and down roaring commands and encouragement, +suddenly cast away his regal role and, seizing a club from one of his +bodyguard, hurled himself on the nearest Red Bones--a raving, ravening +demon of destructiveness whose glaring eyes smote terror into those +fronting him and whose weapon swung like the club of Hercules. His +bowmen and blowgun men, at last out of missiles, came charging in with +bare hands or weapons seized from fallen warriors. Maneuvering had +ended. Henceforth the fight was a grappling mêlée. + +Then the gunfire dwindled and died. The rifle cartridges were spent. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE PASSING OF SCHWANDORF + + +The three soldiers flung down their hot, empty guns. + +"Nothin' left but the gats and the steel," rumbled Tim. "Me, I'm goin' +out and git some fresh air." + +With which he drew pistol and machete, leaped down, and lunged through +the door. McKay bounded at his heels. + +"Merry! Rand! Stay here!" he commanded. Then he was outside, his pistol +roaring in unison with Tim's. + +Knowlton and Rand looked at each other. The lieutenant fumbled his +pistol from its holster, got it firmly in his left hand, slid down the +embankment, and staggered out. Rand coolly walked over to Tim's +discarded gun, picked it up, and followed. + +Over at the other doorway the bushmen threw aside their useless guns and +drew their machetes. José, grinning like a death's-head, whirled the +bush knife aloft and mockingly dared the Red Bones still fronting him to +come and take it from him. Pedro and Lourenço indulged in no such +bravado, but leaped like jaguars at their foes. Whereupon José, +muttering a curse on them for getting the jump on him, dashed forward +with furious abandon. + +Their pistols emptied, the Americans also drew machetes--all except +Rand, who had no weapon but the bulletless rifle--and waited. Few +unwounded Red Bones now were left; but among those few Schwandorf still +lived. + +"Schwandorf!" bellowed McKay. "You yellow cur--you _Schweinhund_! Come +and fight!" + +"Yeah!" taunted Tim. "The women and kids are inside. Come and git 'em!" + +Schwandorf came. He came not because he wanted to, however, for his +guns, too, were empty. He came because the Red Bones, sensing the +challenge and loathing the Blackbeard who had shielded himself so long +among them, threw him out bodily. They had no time to stand and watch +what might happen to him, but they took time to cast him out where he +must stand on his own legs. Then, snarling, they resumed their now +hopeless battle against their encompassing executioners. + +For a moment the German stood glowering at McKay. Then, with a dramatic +gesture, he threw aside his useless revolvers and advanced empty handed. + +"Man to man?" he growled. + +"Man to man!" echoed McKay, passing his pistol to Tim and sheathing his +machete. Fists clenched, he sprang forward. + +Schwandorf halted. His hands remained empty--until the captain was +within eight feet of him. Then he leaped back, his machete jumped into +his fist, and its point stabbed for his antagonist's abdomen. + +An instantaneous side-step and twist of the body saved the captain from +evisceration. The blade ripped through breeches and shirt and scraped +the skin. As Schwandorf yanked it back for another thrust McKay struck +it away with one hand and, without drawing his own steel, jumped again +at his assailant. An instant later the two blackbeards were clenched in +a death grapple. + +Schwandorf found his long knife useless and dropped it. He strove for a +back-breaking hold, but found it blocked. McKay, though an indifferent +swordsman, was a formidable wrestler and fist fighter, and the German's +advantage in weight was more than offset by the American's quickness and +wiry strength. Science was thrown to the winds. A heaving, choking, +wrenching man-fight it was, stumbling over bodies, each straining every +muscle, trying every hold to twist and break the other and batter him +down to death. + +Smashing fist blows brought blood dripping from their faces. +Bone-wringing grips forced gasps from their lungs and superhuman spasms +of resistance from their outraged nerve centers. They fell across a +corpse, rolled on the ground, throttled, kicked, struck, and tore. +Finally, in a furious outburst of energy, the American fought his enemy +down under him, clamped his body with iron knees, and crashed a terrific +punch squarely between the German's glaring eyes. Schwandorf went limp. + +At that instant a backward eddy of the battle surged over the pair. The +maniacal Red Bones, fighting to the last bitter drop of doom, found two +white men under their feet. Screeching, snarling, they fell on them like +wild beasts, tearing with tooth and nail. Their arrows were gone, their +darts exhausted, and no spearman was among them; they fought with +nature's weapons, while above them one lone clubman struggled to swing +down his lethal bludgeon without killing his fellows. + +McKay, wrenching his machete loose and gripping it with both hands, got +its point upward and jabbed blindly at the weight of flesh bearing him +down. Faintly to his ears came yells of rage and the impact of +blows--the battle roars of Tim and Knowlton, who with their machetes +were cleaving a way to their captain. But the beastly demons over him +still crushed him down on Schwandorf, smothering him under the burden of +bodies dead and alive. His stabs grew weak. Exhaustion and lack of air +were killing him more surely than the savages. + +Pedro, Lourenço, José and the inexplicable Rand came slashing and +clubbing a path of their own to the beleaguered Scot--the Brazilians +cutting straight ahead with deadly surety, the painted Peruvian chopping +and thrusting with a fixed grin, Rand swinging the gun butt down on head +after head. From still another direction Yuara and his satellite came +boring in with spears snatched from dead hands. The three rescue parties +reached the squirming heap at almost the same moment. But Yuara was the +one whose arrival counted most. + +In one last convulsive struggle McKay heaved himself up until he was +once more on his knees. His head came out of the welter, his mouth wide +and gulping for breath. The lone clubman grunted, swung his weapon high, +and with all the power of his muscular body drove it down at that +upturned, unprotected face. + +With a mighty plunge Yuara threw himself over the captain. His spear +sank into the stomach of the clubman. But the heavy wooden war hammer +fell with crushing force. As the Red Bone collapsed with the spear head +buried in his middle, his slayer also dropped under that terrible stroke +with head mangled beyond recognition. + +Yuara, son of Rana, warrior of Suba, who owed his life to McKay's rough +surgery, had paid his debt. + +Under the impact of his body McKay also slumped forward, senseless. + +Over them now burst the bloodiest berserk battle of that bloody day. The +soldiers, the bushmen, and the reclaimed Raposa, already smeared from +head to foot with red stains from their own veins and those of foemen, +went stark mad. Before their united ferocity the men of Umanuh dropped +as if rolled under by an inexorable machine of war. Backward they +reeled, striving now to escape the red wall of cold steel surging at +them--only to fall under a fresh attack of ravening Mayorunas who came +pouring in upon them from the sides. The last of the group lurched +headless to the ground under a decapitating side-swing from the awful +club of Monitaya himself. + +Then Knowlton, his lifeblood still draining slowly but surely away +through his wounded shoulder, pitched on his face and was still. + +"Back!" gasped Tim. "Git looey and cap out o' this! Here, you Raposy! +Lend a hand!" + +The Raposa, his green eyes ablaze and his obdurate calmness totally +gone, glared around as if seeking one more Red Bone to kill. Then, as +Tim heaved the lieutenant across his shoulders and went lunging across +contorted bodies toward the _malocas_, he ran back to the heap where +McKay lay and dug him clear. Lourenço aided him in lifting the captain, +and they bore him off after Knowlton. + +Pedro and José shoved the other bodies aside until they uncovered the +prone figure of Schwandorf--a ghastly form dyed from hair to heels with +the blood of the cannibals whom he had led there. To all appearances he +was dead. Yet the Brazilian and the Peruvian looked keenly at him, then +at each other. + +"There is a saying, is there not, that the devil takes care of his own?" +grinned José. "It would be sad if this man should yet live and escape. +See! What is that tall Red Bone doing over yonder?" + +Pedro followed his pointing finger. He saw no such Red Bone as José had +mentioned. But when he looked back at Schwandorf he noticed something +that made him glance quickly at José once more. + +"Ah yes, Señor Schwandorf is truly dead," the Peruvian added, wiping his +machete carelessly on one bare leg. "Whether or not the devil takes care +of his own, as I was saying, there is no doubt that _el Aleman_ now is +with the devil. So, since we can do nothing for him, let us look after +the two North American señores." + +Pedro, with a grim smile, turned with him toward the tribal houses. +There was nothing else for them to do, for the Mayorunas now were +dispatching the last survivors of the attacking force. Before the pair +entered the low doorway a long, triumphant yell burst from the hoarse +throats of the men of Monitaya. Of all the Red Bones who had swept in +such ghoulish glee into that clearing not one now remained alive. + +At that shout of victory and the entrance of the men to whose +precautions and prowess they owed so much, the women flocked again into +the center of the _maloca_ and the children dived out through the +tunnels to behold the battlefield. Though bullets and arrows had come +through the doorway, those inside had escaped all injury by hugging the +protective earth embankment or taking refuge in the vacant shafts under +the walls. Now the older women, experienced in treatment of wounds, +busied themselves with the white warriors, while the younger ones +fetched water and pieces of isca--a natural styptic made by ants--or +made up pads of poultices of healing herbs. + +Tim, who had expected to play surgeon with his crude knowledge of first +aid, found himself not only relieved of his job, but being bathed and +plastered with the others. He, José, Pedro, Lourenço, and even Rand were +gashed by thrusts from broken spear hafts, bleeding from open bites, +ripped by glancing sweeps of tooth-set clubs, bruised by fierce +blows--minor injuries all, but such as might easily have resulted in +blood poisoning unless given prompt attention. Later on they were to be +thankful for those ministrations, but now they tolerated them only +because they could do nothing for the captain and the lieutenant. + +McKay and Knowlton were under the direct and capable treatment of the +wives of the great chief. Of the two McKay looked by far the worse, but +actually was in much better condition. From the waist up he was clawed, +bitten, and bruised so badly that he was a fearsome spectacle; his left +arm was dislocated, three fingers of his right hand were broken, and his +muscles were so wrenched that for a week afterward he moved like a +cripple; but his present unconsciousness was largely due to exhaustion +and partial asphyxiation. Knowlton, whose skin was comparatively +unmarked, but whose veins had continued to pour vital fluid from his +gaping bullet wound during his stubborn fight, now was badly weakened. +But whatever could be done for him was being done, and the others could +only stand by. + +The women not engaged in caring for the fighting visitors soon found +themselves busy with their own male relatives, who came stumbling in by +themselves or were carried by others. The Red Bones, though finally +annihilated, had made their mark in the Mayoruna tribe. At that moment +thirty-six of Monitaya's warriors lay dead among the bodies of their +enemies, and before the next sunrise several more passed on to join the +spirits of their comrades in arms. Yet all who survived, though some +were crippled for life, thought only of the victory and gloated on their +scars of combat. As for those who had fallen, they were dead, had died +as Mayorunas should, and so needed no sympathy or regret. Even now their +bodies were being collected for immediate transportation into the +forest, where, in accordance with the tribal custom, they would be +burned. + +Some of the men who brought in the wounded men continued on to the +bushmen and, in significant sign manual, requested a loan of their +machetes. Having received them, they hastened out to join those who, +equipped with hardwood knives, were gathering the sinister trophies of +triumph before heaving the dead Red Bones out to the waiting vultures. + +"Urrrgh!" growled Tim. "'Twas a lovely scrap, but I wisht I was +somewheres else, now it's over. While ye was away they brought in the +fists and feet o' some guy they caught in a trap--" + +"We know," nodded Pedro. + +"Yeah. Wal, I s'pose we got to look pleasant. Dog eat dog, as the feller +says. Long as somebody has to git et, I'm glad it ain't us." Wherewith +he turned to the Raposa and changed the subject. "Raposy, old sport, ye +sure done some good work, for a crazy guy. I'll tell the world ye +cracked heads like a Bowery cop full o' bootleg booze." + +The Raposa's green eyes glimmered. In fact, they almost twinkled. And +for the second time the wild man spoke. + +"I am not crazy." + +"Huh? My gosh! Ye spoke four whole words! That makes six in a week. Be +careful, feller, or ye'll strain yerself. And as far's bein' crazy's +concerned, don't let it worry ye none. We're all crazy, too, or we +wouldn't be here." + +Under cover of his banter the veteran eyed the other sharply. As he +turned his gaze aside to the moving figures about him he thought: +"Begorry! he don't look like a nut, at that. Mebbe somethin's +unscrambled his brains again. Here's hopin', anyways." + +The big tribe house now was full of life. Small groups of warriors, +their hurts dressed with primitive poultices, gathered around the +hammocks of those more seriously injured and discussed the battle. +Others came in bearing armfuls of severed Red Bone hands and feet, which +were distributed among the family triangles. The women, their remedial +work done, now turned to the clay cooking vessels, freshened the fires, +stripped the flesh of their enemies from the bones, and set it to boil. +Among the hammocks moved the subchiefs, their eyes still shining with +the light of battle, examining the wounded men and glancing at the +preparations for the dire feast to come. + +Over all drifted a steadily thickening smoke which rolled up and out +through the vent in the peak of the roof, where the setting sun smote it +with rays of gleaming red. Around the _maloca_ gleamed the red light of +the cooking fires among whose burning fagots bubbled the red pots and +pans. Red men and women passing about in a crimson setting--the scene +formed a fitting end to the reddest day in the unwritten records of the +tribe, who since noon had proved themselves worthy champions of the +ancient god whose name they never had heard, but who nevertheless ruled +their lives--the red god Mars. + +Monitaya himself, head high and chest swelling with pride, now came +striding lithely in, followed by a young warrior carrying something. He +stopped between the hammocks of McKay and Knowlton, studied their faces +gravely, listened as his wives told of what had been done. At almost the +same moment the eyes of the pair slowly opened and stared up at him. + +The face of the great chief melted in one of its transforming smiles. +The captain and the lieutenant grinned pluckily back. With a nod of +silent comradeship the big savage turned to his own hammock and sat +down. Two of his women built up the royal fire and fell to work on the +things handed over by the young warrior. Tim and his mates took one +squint at what they were doing. Then they moved between the fire and the +two officers, blocking the view. + +"'Bout time ye woke up and listened to the birdies," Tim chaffed. +"Fight's over, and we been hangin' round waitin' for ye to quit snorin' +so's we could hear ourselves think. Lay still, now! Ye're all plastered +up nice and comfy--and don't preach to me no more about the girls. Ye +had every dang one o' the big chief's wives hangin' over ye and kissin' +ye so hard it sounded like a machine gun. Ain't that right, fellers? Me, +I'm so jealous I could bite the both of ye." + +"Schwandorf dead?" hoarsely queried McKay. + +"Huh? Oh, him? Sure. Ye fixed him right, Cap. The pretty li'l' +blackbirds has flew away with him by now. Say, ye mind that feller +Yuarry? Know what he done? Wal--" + +And while he talked, behind his back the wives of Monitaya completed +their task and dropped into the great chief's stewpot the flesh of the +black-bearded slaver and slayer who would menace them no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +PARTNERS + + +Seven men squatted around a camp fire on the river bank. Beyond them, +half revealed by the flickering light of the flames, rose the poles of a +_tambo_ wherein empty hammocks hung waiting. At the edge of the water +lay two canoes. + +Five of the men wore the habiliments of civilized beings, though their +shirts and breeches were so tattered and stained that a civilized +community would have looked askance at them. The other two were nude as +savages, but their beards and tanned skins were those of white men. +Beards of varying length seemed, in fact, to be the fashion, for +everyone present wore one, and all but two were very dark. Of the odd +pair, one's thin face was partly covered by stubby, blond hair, while +the other's jaw was masked by a growth of unmistakable red. + +Lifting their cigarettes, the blond man and a tall, eagle-faced comrade +moved their arms stiffly, as if still hampered by injuries. Newly healed +scars showed on the skins of the rest. + +"Injuns are a funny lot," declared the red-haired one. "There's +Monitaya, now. Keeps us a couple weeks, doctors us half to death, feeds +us till we gag, gives us new canoes, sends a platoon o' hard guys with +us to see that we git to the river safe--and don't even say good-by. No +handshake, no 'Good luck, fellers'--jest a grin like we was goin' to +walk round the house and come right back. And the lads that come out +with us done the same--turned round and quit us without a word. I bet if +we lived amongst 'em long we'd git to be dummies, too." + +For a moment there was silence. For no apparent reason all glanced at +one of the naked men, on whose skin faintly showed reddish streaks. + +"You would," he said. + +"Huh! Gee! Rand's talkin' again! First time since we licked them Red +Boneheads. Two whole words. Go easy, feller, easy!" + +"I will be easy. But it's time I talked. I am not dumb. I am not crazy." + +The green-eyed man spoke slowly, as if forming each word in his mind +before pronouncing it. The rest squatted with eyes riveted on his face. + +"I have not talked before because I had to find myself. I had to hear +English spoken and become used to it. I had to put things together in my +mind. Even now some things are not clear. But I can talk and make sense +of my talk. I will tell what I can remember. First tell me one thing. +McKay, am I a murderer?" + +"A murderer? You? If you are we never heard of it." + +"A man named Schmidt. Gustav Schmidt. German merchant at Manaos." + +"Gustav Schmidt? Piggy little runt, bald and fat, with a scar across his +chin?" + +"Yes." + +"He's dead, but you didn't kill him. He was shot a little while ago by a +young Brazilian for getting too intimate with the young fellow's wife. +We heard about it while we were in Manaos, and saw his picture. What +about him?" + +"I thought I killed him. I struck him with a bottle. I was told he was +dead. How long have I been here?" + +"You left the States in 1915. It is now 1920." + +"Five years? My God! What has happened in that time? Is my mother well?" + +The others looked pityingly at him. Slowly Knowlton spoke. + +"Your mother died two years ago from heart trouble. Your uncle, Philip +Dawson, also is dead." + +Rand's jaw set. The others shifted their gaze and busied themselves with +making new cigarettes, spending much time over the simple task. + +"Poor mother!" Rand said, huskily. "Uncle Phil--he was a good old scout. +And I was here--buried alive--only half alive! My head--Tell me, what +happened on the night before you dressed my lame foot? I remember +clearly everything from the time I woke in the canoe before daylight +that morning. Before that there is a blur." + +Knowlton sketched the events of that night, and told also of the glimpse +which he and Pedro had caught of the "wild man" while waiting outside +the house of the Red Bone chief. A flash lit up Rand's face. + +"So that is how I got my sore head. You struck me with your rifle butt. +That explains much. Before I became a wild beast I was shot in the head. +The bullet did not go through the skull. It struck me a terrible blow on +the crown. When I recovered consciousness I was not myself. I have never +been the same until--" + +"Gee cripes!" exploded Tim. "That's it. I seen that same thing up home. +Bug Sullivan, it was. When he was a li'l' feller he tumbled downstairs +and hit his head, and for 'most ten years he was foolish. Then a brick +fell off a buildin' and landed on his bean. It knocked him for a gool, +but when he come out of it he was bright as a new dime. Looey, when ye +busted Rand with yer gun ye jarred somethin' loose inside, and now he's +good as any of us." + +"By George! You're right!" cried the lieutenant. "Things like that do +happen. I've heard of them. Haven't you, Rod?" + +McKay nodded. + +"That is it," affirmed the Raposa. "I have not been insane. But much was +gone from me. My mind was a house full of closed doors which I could not +open. I knew who I was and why I was here, but I knew also that +something had happened to my brain; knew I was defective; believed I was +wanted for murder. So I could not go out. I could only stay here, prowl +the jungle, live the jungle life. + +"Now that the closed doors have opened again, others have swung shut. I +cannot remember much of my wild-beast life here. Some things are clear. +Too clear. Torturings and horrible feasts. Perhaps I should be grateful +that some things are forgotten. + +"But now my life up to the time I was shot is plain again. I talked with +a man who had traveled the Amazon and the Andes. I never had seen +either, and I was ripe for something new. A steamer was just sailing +south, and I got aboard in a hurry. No baggage but a suitcase and five +thousand dollars. I had traveled a good deal--Europe, Canada, Japan--and +always found that plenty of money was all a man needed. Thought it was +the same way here. I've learned better. + +"I visited Rio--a few hours--and then came up along the coast and +inland. At Manaos I got into trouble. Went ashore and got to drinking +with two Germans. One of them--Schmidt--grew ugly and said a lot of +rotten things about the States. Tell me something, men--is the war over +and did our country get into it?" + +"It is, and it did." And Knowlton outlined the epochal occurrences of +the world conflict. + +"And I missed that, too!" mourned Rand. "But I started a war of my own +down here, anyway. When I quit seeing red I had a bottle neck in my hand +and both the Germans were down. Somebody said Schmidt was dead. A couple +of men tried to grab me. I fought my way clear, hid awhile, got back on +the boat without being noticed, and paid one of the crew well to hide me +in the hold and feed me. Nearly died from heat and suffocation down +there, but lived to reach Iquitos, where my man smuggled me ashore. I +thought I was safe there. But before I could make a move to travel on I +fell into the hands of that cursed Schwandorf." + +"Schwandorf!" + +"Schwandorf. He was in Iquitos. The sailor who hid me must have sold me +out to him. Schwandorf told me he was a police officer in Brazilian +employ. Said he would take me back to stand trial for murdering Schmidt. +The dirty blackmailer took all my money to keep his mouth shut and take +me to a 'safe place.' The safe place was up this river. I came up here +with him in a canoe paddled by some tough Peruvians. Then he began +trying to bully me into doing dirty work for him--running women into +Peru. I saw red again and jumped for him. He gave me that bullet on the +head. + +"After that things are badly blurred. I found myself among savages. How +I got there, why I wasn't killed, I don't know. Schwandorf was there +awhile. Then he went away with his gang, leaving me very sure of only +one thing--I was a murderer and would be executed if caught. And--well, +that's about all, except that the savages seemed rather afraid of me and +didn't want me around." + +There was another silence. Then Lourenço remarked: + +"Between Schmidt and Schwandorf you have suffered much. It is possible +that there was a connection of some sort between them. But neither can +ever trouble you again. I do not see why Schwandorf took the trouble +even to put you among the Red Bones. One more bullet would have ended +you." + +"Any ideas on that subject, José?" asked McKay. + +"Only a guess, Capitan. I was not here five years ago, and I knew +nothing of Schwandorf then. But I know he always schemed for his own +good and overlooked no chances. So perhaps, finding this man not dead, +but darkened in mind by his bullet, he thought he might be able to use +him in some way at some future time. A dead man is not useful to anyone. +If this man should never become valuable he could live and die forgotten +among savages, where he could do Schwandorf no harm. If worth something +he could be found again." + +"Cold-blooded Prussian efficiency," nodded McKay. Then he spoke directly +to Rand. + +"Since you're mentally sound," he went on, "we may as well tell you how +you happen to be among us. We three--Merry, Tim, and I--came here to +find you. The settlement of the Dawson estate hinges on you." + +"On me? How? I've no claim to it. Paul Dawson, Uncle Phil's son--" + +"Is dead, too. Killed in action in the Argonne, You're next in line." + +McKay watched him keenly. So did Knowlton. The half-expected jubilance +did not come. + +"So Paul's gone," was Rand's reply. "Hard luck. Suppose I hadn't been +found--then what?" + +"In due time the money would go to a school. Boys' school." + +"Orphans? Blind? Cripples?" + +"Hardly." McKay's mouth curved sardonically. He named a preparatory +school of the "exclusive" type. Rand's mouth also twisted. + +"That hotbed of snobbery? That twin sister to a society girls' finishing +school? Might have known it, though. Uncle Phil was fond of the sort of +education that doesn't educate. I'm glad you fellows found me. I'll go +home and collect every red cent, just to keep it out of the hands of the +supercilious bunch of bishops that run that sissy-spawner." + +Knowlton chuckled appreciatively. + +"It's not the sort of school that breeds he-men, for a fact," he agreed. +"But you don't seem much enthused over having a couple of millions +dropped into your lap." + +Rand sat still. His face remained cheerless, impassive. + +"What is money?" he said, presently. "I've always had plenty of it. +What's it done for me? When you have it you can't tell whether people +are friends to you or only friends to your money. It makes you cynical, +suspicious. What's worse, you depend too much on it. You think it will +do everything. Then if you land in a place where it's no good and you +haven't got it, anyway, you're up against it a good deal harder than the +fellow who never had it but knows how to handle himself without it." + +"True for ye," Tim concurred, heartily. "All the same, I bet ye'll +change yer tune after ye git home." + +"Will I?" The green eyes impaled him. "Maybe. But I don't think so. I've +had my run at blowing in money on myself alone. Now I'm going to blow +some on other folks. I missed out on the war, but--There must be quite a +few of our fellows lamed and crippled by that war. And I'll gamble that +the government isn't treating them all like princes. I know something +about governments." + +"Princes? Say, feller, there's many a dog that's took better care of +than some of our boys back home!" + +"So I thought. The income from a couple of millions, along with some of +the principal, will do a lot of good if used right. And--" His eyes +turned to the three bushmen. + +"Do not look at us in that way," said Lourenço, reading his thought. "We +can make all the money we need, and we came with the capitao and his +comrades only because we wanted excitement. Use your money for the +crippled men who need it." + +"And José Martinez also is well able to provide for his wants," coolly +added the other naked man. "I am here only to settle old scores, and now +they are settled. Each man is goaded by his own spur--money, wine, +women, excitement, revenge. Money is not mine." + +He yawned, arose, stretched like a cat, and stepped toward his hammock. +The two Brasilians also moved toward the _tambo_. The others stood a +moment longer beside the fire. + +"Well, since we three didn't come here because of wine, women, or +revenge," Knowlton said, whimsically, "it must have been for money and +excitement. Don't know which was the stronger lure, but if we could have +only one of the two I think we'd let the money slide. How about it, +Rod?" + +"Right! And, Rand, let me say this: Before we knew you we had an +impression that you were more or less of a worthless pup. We've changed +our ideas. If you ever go broke and want to hit a trail into some new +place to make a strike of your own, and you need partners, let us know." + +And he held out his hand. + +The naked millionaire took it. For the first time a faint smile +lightened his face. + +"I'll do that, partners!" he promised. + +"Yeah! That's the word. Pardners! Only, li'l' Timmy Ryan bucks at ever +travelin' back into this here, now, Ja-va-ree jungle. I got enough of +it. Right now I'm homesick." + +"So say we all," affirmed Knowlton. "Now let's turn in." + +But Tim stood a little longer looking out at the moonlit river and the +two waiting canoes. His gaze roved along the stream, northward. He +lifted his head, opened his mouth, expanded his lungs, and then the +astounded denizens of forest and stream cut short their discordant +concert to listen to something they never had heard before and never +would hear again--a great voice thundering a censored version of a North +American army song. + + "Home, boys, home! Home we want to be! + Home, boys, home, in God's countree! + We'll raise Ol' Glory to the top o' the pole + And we'll all come back--not a dog-gone soul!" + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30324 *** |