Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

The Tucandeira ‘“‘He wants to know just where you come from. I know you work for Coronel Nunes, but where are your homes?” We told him, and he repeated this in Quichua. Then he kept on talking, and as I could not tell what he was saying I glanced around the place. It had a palm partition with a doorway leading into another room, and against that palm wall I saw something that worried me. Behind the chief, leaning in a row near one corner, were our guns—and several others. All except ours were very rusty. Counting these, I found that there were six: four repeating rifles of the kind commonly used in our jungle, and two ‘‘trade”’ guns of large bore. On the floor beside them lay our machetes and the American’s revolver. Six men with guns had been here before us. The guns still were here. . What had become of the men? While I was thinking of this Senhor Locke stopped speaking. The chief gazed at each of us again. Then he moved his head toward me and spoke to the Golden One. For a moment she and I looked into each other’s eyes. I thought of what a wonderfully beautiful girl she was, and perhaps my face showed this; for she laughed very prettily and made a little teasing mouth at me. But then she shook her head, and I could see that she was saying, “No.” The chief made a sign with one hand, and Googoo stepped out of the house. Pgdro’s turn was next. She smiled at him too, but again said, “No.” Then she and Senhor Locke stood looking at each other for a much longer time. And I was much sur- prized to see that the Golden One became confused. A slow blush came into her cheeks, and her gaze dropped. She breathed quickly, her breast quivering as it rose and fell. She half- turned as if to go away, then faced us again and raised her eyes to his as timidly as any shy young Indian maid. When she spoke she hesitated, and hersvoice was so low we could hardly hear it. The chief looked astonished and annoyed. He grunted a few words and moved a thumb toward Pedro. At once she recovered herself. Her eyes snapped, and she told the chief some- thing in a decided tone. The Indian’s eyes went back and forth between Pedro and Senhor Locke. Though I did not know just what this was all about, I could see that a choice was to be made between my two companions; that the chief favored Pedro, while the Golden One wanted the Ameri- can; and that I was out of it. The light sound of bare feet at the door made us turn and look. Googoo had come back, and six other men with him. All were armed, all looked grim, and all watched the chief as if 69 expecting orders. I slipped a hand into the pocket where that big clasp-knife lay. “Looks like a squall,” said the Tucandeira softly. “If they start anything Pll plug the chief. You chaps hurdle his hammock and grab your guns.” Glancing at him, I saw that his shirt was unbuttoned and the tips of his right fingers - were inside it. The chief sat still and argued with the girl. She stamped a foot and answered sharply. He sighed. An instant later my arms were clutched from behind. Too late I saw that the chief, without raising his hands frem his knees, had lifted two fingers to show that Pedro and I were to be seized. I kicked backward, wrenched myself out of the hands holding me and jumped for the corner where the guns stood. But I collided with the chief, who had risen and now swept his wiry arms around me, I trampled on his bare feet, tried to throw him and get past; but I might as well have tried to punk away the crushing loop of a boa. Hands clamped my wrists again from behind, and though I plunged and strained I could neither break free nor draw the knife. Then some man at my back got an arm around my throat and choked me until I fell. When my head cleared again I was lying back against the wall, and two wild men were squatting on my hands with all their weight. Pedro, exhausted, was sprawling on the floor with three badly mauled barbaros holding him down. The sixth Indian stood between us with a club raised as if only waiting for a word to crush our skulls. Googoo stood between Senhor Locke and the chief, protecting the tribal ruler with his own body, and the Golden One had twined herself around the American and was trying to hold down his gun hand, in which he gripped a flat pistol. Later I learned that only my jump toward the chief saved his life. I had leaped between him and the American, who had drawn his pistol and barely escaped shooting me in the. back. Instantly the girl had thrown herself on him to protect the man who was a father to her, and after that there was such a whirling tangle of struggling men that he could not fire without danger of hitting me or Pedro. m9 NOT one of the darbaros had attacked ~ eeemed him. Now he snapped out a question and a command. ‘The girl answered in a pleading way. He jerked his head toward us and repeated his order, adding something else in a milder tone. She took her arms from him and_ stepped back, watching him. He slipped his pistol into a pocket and stood with hands empty. Then she turned and gave an order to the wild men holding us. They looked at her as if they thought her crazed, then turned Gomichbooks (C@)