as
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
Lourenco 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. Lourenco, 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