Adventure Magazine Cover — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

Brazil until the jungle kills you, as it seems to kill everything in time.” He stared at her soberly, dropped his cigaret-stub in an absent way, and looked around the maloca as if comparing it and its unclothed inhabitants with the homes and the people of the North. “Maybe you’re right,” he said soberly. “T’ve been up home twice since I first saw the jungle—and I’ve come back each time nauseated by the smugness and the small- ness of the lives all my old friends were living. “They. weren’t my friends any more. They tolerated me, that’s all. They looked on me as a ne’er-do-well, a vagabond, a tropical tramp. The men four-flushed about their success in business—poor boobs! Most of ’em were salaried men, chained to. their jobs for life—and some of the women acted as if they were afraid I’d contaminate their precious hubbies by my yarns about the jungle. They were getting smaller and narrower every day of their lives; and they looked down on me because I wasn’t living the same picayune life they were. “One chap told me right out that I’d better get back to the wilds—that I didn’t fit any more in the States, but maybe I’d ‘make good’ down here if I worked hard enough. ‘Making good,’ of course, meant making money. That’s the only rule they measure you by up home: ‘How much have you got?’ ” He glanced around again and then went on: “And yet I’m not crazy about this jungle © life. As you say, it kills. I like it only be- cause of its freedom, its absence of nagging conventionalities — because, rough and brutal as it is, it’s real! And I’d go back home gladly if I knew where I could find real things, real folks—and the right kind of a pal. — “ve had a number of pals at one time or another—men or girls—but every one of "em dropped away after a while. Why? Because sooner or later they wanted to be boss, and I couldn’t see it that way. Ill go oe, with a partner on everything, Ht"? “But you must be the boss, as you term it.” “Nope. Not unless it’s necessary. The right kind of a pal, mind you, will meet you half-way, and no bossing is needed. That’s the sort of partner I’ve wanted—and never demon of the Indians,” Adventure found. So when it’s come to a question of whether I was to boss or be bossed—as it always has—why, I made it clear that I © wasn’t going to be the under dog in the com- bination. So the combination busted up. I’m still my own master, and, believe i I’m going to stay So.’ “T believe you,” she said—and arose. We three also stood up. Pedro and I stretched ourselves again and grinned at Andirah, who sat as if wondering what all the talk was about. Senhor Tom, with a little laugh, added: “Pardon the oration concerning myself. I don’t often shoot off my mouth so much.” “‘You’re pardoned, I’m sure,’’ she smiled. “Tt was most— Oh, what is that frightful thing?”’ After one look I did not wonder at her sudden question. From the rear of the maloca was advancing a great, horrible face, seeming in the smoky dimness to be a de- mon which had risen through the floor. But, having seen the bat-mask of the pajé, it did not take us long to realize that this was another hollow head, mounted on a man’s shoulders. “Jurupari?” asked Senhor Tom of the chief, pointing. ‘‘Jurupari,”’ agreed the Bat after a look. “That’s the Jurupari, or great jungle the explorer ex- plained. “Or, rather, a mask representing him. Guess the Tucunas are going to have a masquerade along with their feast. If so, you'll see a weird collection of nondescripts prancing around after the booze gets to working.” “Does the Jurupari demon drink, sen- hor?” I asked. “Sure does.. Gets as full as any of them, or fuller. I’ve seen a couple of these masked parties in other Tucuna malocas, and the Jurupari got spifflicated along with the rest of the gang. He’s not such a bad demon, ‘you know—just a mischievous rascal who gets blamed for all the little accidents that happen; they think all their mischances are caused by his playing tricks on them.” The coming of the false-faced demon seemed to arouse all the rest of the men, and some of the women too. There was much moving about, and new heads began to appear. Some were those of huge monkeys, others were of parrots and tapirs and jaguars, and one was that of a very thirsty- looking fish—at least, the mouth was wide Go 0)(0X6) me S (E@) S|