In Search of an Unknown Race — page 168: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

156 VAN, losing himself, hurried on, anxious not only to notify Flores of their approaching departure, but of the almost incredible news brought by the runner from Itambez. Now while Van had been enjoying his long interview with Ninada, Flores was very differently employed. Half a mile away in the depths of the forest, he was sitting on a fallen tree trunk near the swamp, with Van’s gun resting upon his knees. He was silently watching the movements of a half-naked copper-colored Indian with a low retreating forehead, straight, black hair, and a face expressive of brutal cunning. The latter had thrown off his tattered blanket and wore nothing but a pair of very short and dilapidated tow trousers. He was industriously scraping the bark of a woody plant known as the mavacure. ‘The fibers thus detached he carefully placed in a tunnel of palm leaves, and, pouring some dark liquid over the whole, allowed it to filter drop by drop into a clay vessel un- derneath the tunnel. The juice thus procured was mixed with a sticky in- fusion. Then, taking from a rude bench beside him half a dozen palm splints, of which one end was wound round with the cotton of the silk tree, while the other was sharp pointed, the Indian carefully dipped each arrow tip in the glutinous preparation, and his work was done. Signing to Flores to give attention, the savage reached out for his blow gun that was leaning against the hut. This was a hollow cane some eight feet long, the inside of which had been smoothed till it was al- most like glass. Placing one of the arrows in the larger end, the Indian, after looking round, elevated the blow Eomichbooks, co