ht," said Paula, smiling suddenly, "that my reputation would
be jeopardized. And you were about to offer--"

Bell winced.

"Of course I don't mean to act like an ass," he said apologetically,
"but some people...."

"You forget," said Paula, with the same faint smile, "what the
newspapers will say of us, Senhor. You forget what news of us the
cables have carried about the world. I think that we had better forget
about the conventions. As the daughter of a Brazilian, that remark is
heresy. But did you know that my mother came from Maryland?"

"Thank God!" said Bell relievedly. "Then you can believe that I'm not
thinking exclusively of you, and maybe we'll get somewhere."

Paula put out her hand. He grasped it firmly.

"Right!" he said, more cheerfully than ever before. "Now well turn on
the radio and see what news we get."

* * * * *

Into the deep dark jungle night, then, a strange incongruity was
thrust. Tall trees loomed up toward the stars. A nameless little
stream flowed placidly through the night and, beached where
impenetrable undergrowth crowded to the water's edge, a big amphibian
plane lay slightly askew, while a light glowed brightly in its cabin.
More, from that cabin there presently emerged the incredible sound of
music, played in Rio for _os gentes_ of the distinctly upper strata of
society by a bored but beautifully trained orchestra.

The _jabiru_ stork heard it, and craned its featherless neck to stare
downward through beady eyes. But it was not frightened. Presently,
instead of music, there was a man's voice booming in the disconnected
sounds of human speech. And still the _jabiru_ was unalarmed. Like
most of the birds whose necks are bald, the _jabiru_ is a useful
scavenger, and so is tolerated in the haunts of men. And if man's
gratitude is not enough for safety, the _jabiru_ smells very, very
badly, and no man hunts his tribe.

* * * * *

Bell had been listening impatiently, when a sudden whining, whistling
noise broke into the program of very elevated music, played utterly
without rest. The sound came from the speaker, of course.

He frowned thoughtfully. The whistling changed in timbre and became
flutelike, then changed again, nearly to its original pitch and tone.

Paula was not listening. Her mind seemed very far away, and on
subjects the reverse of pleasurable.

"Listen!" said Bell suddenly. "You hear that whistle? It