Part 7 (2/2)

”Macu never make village,” replied Kamuka. ”All they do is tear down huts that belong to other people.”

The procession was moving straight westward toward the setting sun. That, at least, made sense to 98 .

Biff, for it proved that the Macus had come from across the Rio Negro, as they usually did. Evidently they had found the fis.h.i.+ng poor, so had gone on a monkey hunt instead.

Soon, the procession reached the Macu camp. This was a small natural clearing where the Macus had chopped down a few palm trees. Women of the tribe were sewing palm leaves together to form roofs for crude shelters around a central fire.

While the hunters skinned monkeys for the evening meal, other tribesmen gathered around Biff and Kam-uka, prodding them as if they were curiosities. Their hands were finally released and they were allowed to eat. Biff was glad that they were fed left-over fish instead of monkey meat.

Then they were marched to two small trees. Biff's wrists were tied behind him around a tree, and he was allowed to slide down to a sitting position. Kam-uka was tied in the same fas.h.i.+on to another tree only a few feet away. Liana ropes were used instead of thongs, but the knots were very tight and solid.

Other Macus tied their ankles in the same manner, so that escape would be difficult, if not impossible. As the Macus moved away and gathered around the slowly dying fire, Biff saw their ruddy faces and spoke to Kamuka.

”They sure look bloodthirsty, with their faces all done up in war paint.”

”That is not for war,” said Kamuka. ”It is for hun- A SUDDEN SURPRISE 99.

ger. They will wear the paint all night, for luck in catching monkeys tomorrow.”

Biff and Kamuka were not too uncomfortable that night. They slept fitfully until dawn, when the women brought them water but offered them no food. When they were alone again, Biff asked: ”What do you think about head-hunters now, Kamuka? Will they let us grow up before they shrink our heads?”

”Maybe,” returned Kamuka. ”Sometimes they take prisoners for members of the tribe. But I do not want to be Macu. I want to be johnny-on-the-spot.”

”You're on the spot all right. We both are. If I only had something to cut these ropes!”

”I have something Macu did not find. I have it in back pocket where I can get it easy. Burning gla.s.s.”

Kamuka's words roused Biff to an eager pitch.

”Get it, Kamuka!” he exclaimed. ”Try to hold it into the sunlight and turn it toward my hands.”

”But it will burn your hands-”

”Not long, it won't. I'll tell you when to move it and which way to tilt it.”

Kamuka soon had the little microscope tilted toward the sun. Biff repressed a sudden ”Ouch!” and then said calmly, ”Just a little higher, Kamuka. Hold it there a moment. No, a little more. Now, the other way-”

”I smell rope burning!” Kamuka said.

”Hold it just as it is,” urged Biff.

100 .

Soon Biff, too, could smell the burning rope. A minute later, he found that the bonds yielded when he tried to pull his wrists apart. Finally the rope broke completely, and with one hand free Biff was able to take the microscope and work on Kamuka's bonds.

By now, most of the Macu hunters had left the camp, and the few who remained were still asleep. The boys worked on their ankle ropes, unnoticed, but found them so tight that they had to take turns burning them. Finally free, they realized that their biggest problem lay ahead.

”We can't both make a run for it at once,” whispered Biff, ”or they might wake up and spot us. You slide for the brush first, Kamuka. If they still see me, they may not notice that you have gone.”

”But I can't leave you here alone, Biff.”

”You won't be leaving me. I'll give you time to work around the clearing. Then if they see me start to leave, you can raise a yell and draw them your way.”

”Very good, Biff. We try it.”

The ruse worked better than they had hoped. Kamuka gained the edge of the clearing with ease. Biff gave him due time to get properly posted, then followed the same route. They had chosen it well, for it was not only the closest edge of the clearing; it was directly toward the rising sun, which would tend to dazzle anyone who looked that way.

Once in the jungle, Biff kept close to the clearing as he circled it, calling softly to Kamuka until they A SUDDEN SURPRISE 101.

finally met. Again, the sun proved helpful. They had been headed toward it when they were brought here as prisoners, late in the previous afternoon. So now, they had only to move toward the morning sun to reach the jungle trail.

It was slow going, as they had to be wary of animals in the brush, yet all the while they felt the urge to hurry in case their escape had been discovered back at the Macu camp. At last, however, they came upon the trail. Then came the question: Which direction should they take?

”The safari must have come as far as we did,” declared Biff, ”in fact probably a lot farther, as they were supposed to keep on coming until they overtook us.”

”But when they didn't find us,” said Kamuka, ”they must have turned back to look.”

”You may be right,” decided Biff. ”They could have figured, too, that we missed the trail somewhere along the line. I'll tell you what. Let's go back along the trail a couple of miles anyway. If we don't meet them, we'll know they are up ahead.”

”And all the time,” added Kamuka, ”we keep good sharp look for Macu!”

That final point was so important that both Biff and Kamuka kept paying more attention to the bordering jungle than to the trail itself. Every sound, from a bird call to a monkey howl might mean that Macu hunters were about. So could the slightest stir among the jungle flowers and the banks of surround- 102 .

ing plants, where at any moment, painted faces topped with wavy hair might come popping into sight as they had the afternoon before.

But there wasn't a trace of motion in all that sultry setting until the boys reached a place where the trail took a short, sharp turn around the slanted trunk of a fallen ceiba tree. Biff, in the lead, gave a quick glad cry as he saw native bearers coming toward them, bowed under the weight of the packs they carried.

At the head of the column strode a white-clad man wearing a tropical helmet. At sight of him, Biff turned and called to Kamuka: ”Here's Mr. Whitman coming with the whole safari! We're safe now, Kamuka! Come on!”

With that, Biff dashed forward, only to be caught by the shoulders and spun full about, his arm twisted in back of him. Biff's captor shoved him straight toward the leader of the safari, and the boy saw for the first time that the man in white wasn't Mr. Whitman.

Looking down from beneath the pith helmet was the ever-smiling face of Nicholas Serbot, tinted an unearthly green in the subdued glow of the jungle. Over Biff's shoulder leered the face of his captor, Big Pepito!

CHAPTER XII.

Between Two Fires BIFF'S first concern was for Kamuka. He managed to dart a quick look along the trail hoping to shout a warning to his companion. Then, Biff caught himself, fearful that such a call would turn attention in Kam-uka's direction.

The warning wasn't needed. Kamuka had witnessed Biff's rapid capture and had taken action on his own. With uncanny instinct, Kamuka had found an opening in the seemingly- solid wall of jungle and had already dived from sight.

One man, however, had seen the green ma.s.s close behind Kamuka's quick-moving form. That man was Urubu. He raised his rifle and fired into the thick foliage, three times in quick succession.

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