"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,
Lourenco?"

"_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.

Lourenco, 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 ne