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," Lourenco 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 Lourenco. "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 Lourenco 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