Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

lado Pe hy Charles B. Stilson (A Sequel to ‘A Man Named Jones’’) CHAPTER XXIV. NEE-NAH MAKES A DISCOVERY. N the low doorway of a Huachipairi malocca built of sturdy palm-stems sat Kate Jones, shading her eyes with one hand from the rays of the setting sun and gazing at the varied scenes in the big com- pound, which the forest twilight was be- ginning to invade. _A few rods to her right, along the rim of shadow cast by the high, palisaded wall of the river side of the stockade, a group of pocket-edition warriors played at battle with tiny bows and arrows. Beyond them, wholly in the shadow, half a score of dogs crouched, mumbling and snarling over the guiraba bones which had been flung to them. To the left and all along the southern wall firelights were beginning to twinkle before the other smaloccas., Half-naked’. women flitted to and fro like shadows, pre- paring the evening meal. Painted war- riors, démoniac in the half-light, but with very human appetites, began to lounge nearer the fires and hurry the cooks, after the fashion of hungry husbands -all the world over. | Occasionally the small fighting men sus- pended their mimic warfare to roll curious, reverent eyes in the-direction of the white chieftainess who sat so still, and whose beautiful, pale-skinned face and wondrous golden hair, in which the dying sun kin- dled strange lights, stirred a wordless wor- ship in their small, barbarian hearts. But none of them ventured nearer to their new deity. At a distance of twenty feet from the door of the malocca a sentinel in full war- panoply paced regularly. It was death to approach the white woman whom the curaca had marked for his own; and the sentry was prepared to enforce the pen- alty It was evening of the eleventh day since Katherine had been brought senseless into the village and placed in the -malocca. Day by day she had watched the gates of the stockade, and far into each night had listened to the thousand voices of the jungle, hoping for a sign from Her friends— a voice, the distant echo of a shot—any- thing to bid her to hope on, for rescue was at hand. . None had come. She was beginning to Of the last moments of the barricade sh had not been a witness. One frightful drama of savage hatted she had seen, and then had swooned. She had been treated kindly, even with deference, by her cap- tors; but what her ultimate fate would be she could guess. . Why did not Bob come? That was the question in her heart as she sat on the — threshold of the malocca and watched the This story began in the All-Stery Weekly for June 26. 466 Shey Ae. - Original froma Gon -_)