Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

IIo coil together disappeared in a smother of foam. A moment later the canoe arose and floated sluggishly, its sides splintered as if scraped by a gigantic rasp. The monster which had struck it was gone. So was one of the crew. Curac and the six remaining paddlers swam desperately to the nearest canoes and were hauled in. Other boats cruised about in a flurry, men jabbing lances into the mucky bottom or seeking signs of the vanished victim. Nothing was found. The empty canoe, though cracked and water-logged, was still serviceable. So it was bailed out with gourds, the paddles and such weapons as floated were recovered, andwits crew reentered it. Their guns, of course, were lost forever. Soon the line was speeding forward again. “Tt seems,” said Nuné composedly, ‘‘that Yacumama now does not favor the White Ones.” José glared and spat curses on Yacumama and every other heathen god. The girl looked calmly over his head. Late in the day, the brigade plowed to a stop at the base of a steep hill covered with heavy timber. Ever since leaving the river, the course had led generally north- east. José was obviously taking a short-cut toward his stronghold, and this was the end of the water travel. The shore where they landed was gravelly and firm, and, though no path was visible, the ground above would offer passable going, since undergrowth would be scant. With a squint at the westering sun, José rave the order to march forthwith. The canoes were hastily tied to whatever came handy, and up the slope clambered the scouts and pathmakers, machetes ready for action against all obstacles. With the unerring instinct of their breed, they swung rapidly along through the pathless wilder- ness above, dexterously laying down a trail for the column to follow. An hour later all were well inland, on high ground, away from the insect plague which had haunted the lagoon. ‘There camp was made. “Tomorrow,” said José, “we shall come into one of our forest paths. In another day we shall reach my home camp. Madre de Dios! How long are these days!” The three nodded, knowing what was gnawing at his heart. “Any watch tonight?” asked Knowlton, stifling a yawn. Adventure “None. If our enemies are in this land they are following some path, and no path. is near this spot. Sleep early and long, amigos; you will need all your strength tomorrow.”’ The promise proved to be no jest. When the long file broke out into a faint, narrow path the next forenoon it struck into a swift swing which taxed the legs and lungs of the Northerners to the utmost; a gruelling stride which was not quite a lope, but which bored up into the hills at a terrific pace. When noon came and José called a halt, Tim welcomed the cessation with a groan of relief. The others, though they swal- lowed the groans, were as thankful as he. ‘Any of your log drums along here, José?” asked McKay, when his breathing had become normal. ‘Been listening for one.” ‘Not here, but farther on.”’ The Spaniard cast a look ahead, showing a slightly worried expression. “This is a hunters’ track. But it joins one of the better paths, and at that place is a tunday. I do not know how far ahead my first scout is now——” A rapid, faint pad of feet interrupted him. From the path beyond them loped a runner. Before he had reached the side of José he was jerking out a brief but ominous report. José half rose from his squat, then slowly sank back. For a moment he stared at his comrades, his jaw-muscles bunching with the strain of hard-set teeth. Quietly then he said: “The scouts have reached the tunday. There they expected to find three signalers. Instead, they found the bones of three men—without skulls. And there are tracks of many savages who have gone up into the hills.” CHAPTER XXT TWO CHIEFTAINS FALL Spe the jungle, on the last lap of the long race with their fiercest foes, the war-dogs of the son of the Conquista- dores tore like a great pack of voiceless wolves. Before their speeding feet ran the plain track of the Huambiza horde, and before their minds hung the dread vision of their women and children helpless in the power of those killers from the west. Behind them—far behind now—lay their food- packs, their paddles, their hammocks, everything except their weapons and one COmiclboookks.c© S|