Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

Q2 have no woman to think about. This here Warm Beezer parade we’re takin’ had oughter be a stag party.” Three slight nods concurred. “But o’ course we got to treat her right and see her home safe, even if we do knock her folks for a gool right afterwards. Gee, and then what’s goin’ to happen to her? We go in there and blow her whole outfit off the map and yank Dave out and pack him off, and leave her all out o’ luck. Dang it, we can’t fix things right for her, no matter what we do.” “She must do as all other women of this land do—live whatever life and die what- ever death her gods provide for her,” José declared, with a careless shrug. ‘Perhaps to become the mate of some head-hunter and forget Sefior Dave, perhaps to drink the barbasco—quién sabe?” “Barbasco? What’s that?” asked Knowl- ton. “Tt is the vine which the Jiveros use for fishing. ‘They crush it and throw it into slow water, and the milky juice from it kills the fish. In Brazil it is called ‘timbo.’ The women captured in raids by the Jiveros sometimes use it to kill themselves.” A sudden silence fell. The Americans stared thoughtfully at their cigarets. To each came the thought that the deadly bar- basco probably had furnished the one way out for the frantic mother of Nuné, a vic- tim and slave of the barbarians. Whether or not that was true, it was more than likely that Nuné herself, when bereft of the man of her choice and abandoned forever to a hopeless existence in the shadows, would resort to the vine. To her despairing mind. this impulse would, no doubt, seem the bid- ding of Piatzo. She who had braved the malignity of the wizard of Kwana would not shrink from the brief agony which would open the gates to oblivion. One by one they snapped their cigaret- butts outside, drew their blankets across their chests, and lay motionless. Around them sounded only the subdued hiss of smouldering fires and the brief grunts of resting Indians, Farther out rose and fell the low, mournful notes of pauji turkeys murmuring in the thin light filtering down from a small moon; the soft call of a tuta- cuchillo night monkey traveling the high branches; the weird plaint of a lonely sloth; the whistle of a tapir summoning his mate. And in her hammock, at. the end of the Adventure row of five slung within the hut, the girl of whom these men were thinking lay without a thought for any of them. That tapir-call was in her ears, and a deeper call in her heart; and her half-closed eyes looked stead- fastly toward the west, as if through the limitless leagues of jungle she saw some- thing dearer to her than the symbolic cross nestling in her bosom. And out of the west, unknown to her or to those around her, her fate was advanc- ing with swift, inexorable strides. CHAPTER XVI THE SEED OF DISTRUST T)OWN a narrow but deep creek, which crawled black and slow through the mud of the lowland jungle, siid a long line of dugout canoes. The human serpent which recently had been slithering along the trails now had become a great water- snake. As the commander-in-chief had foretold, every boat was crammed with men, riding so low that the gunwales were almost awash. At the head of the line glided the scar-faced Curac, acknowledged capitén of operations on the Pastasa side of the cordillera of the White Ones. The two canoes immediately behind carried José, McKay and Nuné as watchful idlers in the one, and Knowlton and Tim in the other. The very last boat in the wriggly file brought Aillu, guarding against any chance of straggling. Except for the many slight sipping sounds of paddies entering and leaving the water the column journeyed in utter silence. Now and then, from far above, where the sun- light blazed, sounded the raucous cries of macaws, deadened by height and inter- vening foliage. Whatever life moved nearer at hand made no noise. To the eyes of the voyagers no hfe was visible except an- occasional venomous snake in the black mud at the shores. Abruptly a grunt broke from Curac. He rose to his knees, his carbine swinging to his shoulder. men sounded a seething growl of water sud- cenly opposed; the boat checked as they reversed their strokes. Instantly a pro- longed splash filled the air just ahead. A big, dark log which had been lying partly out of the water hurled itself down-stream, moving so fast that the startled eyes of the : EO DOO ANG cS From the paddles of his canoe- © C© 5}