ies, 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. Lourenco 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 Lourenco's rifle, which
his comrade had passed to him on the run. Lourenco 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 Lourenco 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 Lourenco
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-rai