A Queer Race: The Story of a Strange People — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

A QUEER RACE. 165 sure the coast is clear before I start. I remain behind only by excess of precaution—to make assurance doubly sure, as it were. Your life is very valuable, remember. We must not throw away a single chance. But this is no time for discussion. Don’t stand upon the order of your going, but go,” | Mab acquiesced, though, as it seemed to me, rather re- luctantly. ‘¢ When you hear the cry of the bell-bird,” she said, as they set off, ‘‘ you will know that we have reached the trees.” When the two girls had gained the top of the cliff (from which to the edge of the forest was a stiffish ascent of nearly a mile) and were lost to view, I considered my ~ OWN position. It was very exposed. Between the foot of the bluff and the edge of the water was a space of some ten or a dozen yards, and as I stood there, waiting for Mab’s sig- nal, it struck me that I should make a splendid target for the arrows of any Cariberoes who might be lurking about on the other side; so I thought it might be just as well to take advantage of the only bit of cover there was about—-a stunted bush. But finding that it would not conceal me sitting, much less standing, I laid myself down, almost full length, at right angles to the creek, and, after placing my weapons and ammunition handy, leaned on my elbows and peered lazily through the bush, wondering the while how soon [ should hear the cry of the bell-bird. : After this I think I must have dozed a few seconds, for I opened my eyes with a start, and by way of keeping myself awake for the rest of my vigil (the run and the wade having made me decidedly sleepy) rubbed them vigorously and stared my hardest. | The reeds were moving. 2 “A deer,” I thought (they were about the height of a deer), ‘‘or perhaps some other wild animal. I am sure there is a good deal more game on Swamp Island than Mab has any idea of. There it is again. Something black. The snout of an alligator, perhaps.. No. The woolly head of a Cariberoe, by Jupiter! Nothing eise.” The next moment the woolly head was followed by a bronzed, tattooed savage face. It gazed furtively round, GComichbooks.c