In Search of an Unknown Race — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

VAN. | 157 gun in both hands and placed his mouth atthe aperture, at the same time suddenly exhaling his breath. A slight rustling in the tree tops, where the arrow had sped, called Flores’s attention. A moment of silence followed. Then, clutching painfully at the leaves and branches as he came down, a small monkey fell to the eround—dead ! Flores drew a long breath and nodded expressively at the Indian, who gavea grimsort ofsmile. ‘‘ Manana” (to-morrow) said the former briefly, and whatever the time appointed might signify, it was evidently well understood by the Indian. Suddenly ringing through the forest glades came a clear-long-drawn call. ‘¢ Flo—res !” The young man, whose face suddenly took on an ashy pallor, sprang to his feet, and stood with parted lips and staring eyes gazing in the direction of the distant shout. Another repetition of the call, and Flores, seeming to recognize Van’s familiar voice, pulled himself together. ‘‘It is Van,” he muttered, wiping the sudden perspira- tion from his forehead. ‘‘I almost thought ‘i ‘¢ Signor,” whispered the Indian, bending his small glittering eyes upon Flores, as he thrust another arrow into the blow gun, ‘‘es AmertcanoP” (Is it the American ?) Flores nodded. ‘‘ No manana ahora,” (not to-morrow—now) returned the Indian, and, before the other could speak, he glided away into the underbrush. Flores, whose usually motionless face still retained EOmiGcdoo “S (E(0) m