  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 Kamuka’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 mass 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. As Urubu paused, Biff appealed frantically to Serbot: “Don’t let him shoot again—” Serbot ordered Urubu to lower his rifle, which the guide did. At the same time, Urubu grinned, for he had seen no ripple in the jungle leaves beyond the spot where he had first aimed. “Perhaps,” purred Serbot, “Urubu is trying to shoot an anaconda, the way he did the other day.” “Or some other jungle creature,” added Pepito, over Biff’s shoulder, “like those that we heard run away.” Biff guessed that they were trying to draw out facts from him, to learn if he and Kamuka had followed Luiz and listened in on the discussion that had shaped the later events. As Biff tightened his lips, determined not to answer, Urubu became impatient. “And maybe,” put in the leering guide, “I just now try to kill some person, the way Luiz was chased and killed.” “What happened to Luiz was his own fault,” Biff argued hotly. “He tried to kill my father first, with a knife.” “Your bearers did not tell us that,” stated Serbot smoothly. “We met them on their way back to Santa Isabel, and they told us that Whitman had fired at Luiz, who ran into quicksand—” “Where we tried to save him. Did they tell you that?” “Yes, they told us that. But not that Luiz had tried to kill your father.” “That happened before they even woke up. By then, Luiz had started to run, so naturally Mr. Whitman went after him.” “The boy lies,” snarled Urubu. “The bearers did not give you foolish talk like this.” “They gave us other foolish talk,” reminded Serbot. “They scared our crew by saying there were Macus around here.” “But there are Macus around!” exclaimed Biff. “Their camp is only a few miles away from here. I know, because the Macus had me tied up as a prisoner all last night!” The effect on Serbot’s party was electric. Even before Urubu could translate the words to the bearers, they were dropping their packs, ready to take to flight, for they recognized the name “Macus” when Biff mentioned it. But Serbot, raising his smooth tone to a surprisingly strong pitch, spoke in a mixture of Portuguese and native dialect that Biff managed to understand. “Where will you go?” demanded Serbot. “Do you think you will be safe by running away like frightened deer, while the Macus are looking for just such prey? If there are Macus all around, as the boy says, there is nothing for us to do but go on and be ready for them!” All this while, Pepito had retained his grip on Biff, but had been gradually relaxing the hold. Now, at Serbot’s order, he released Biff entirely, but still kept a wary eye on him. Biff longed to dash into the jungle and look for Kamuka, but again he managed to restrain himself. The chances were that Urubu’s shots had missed and that Kamuka was lying low in the motionless foliage. To race after him and draw new gunfire would be the worst thing that Biff could possibly do. So he waited patiently until the safari started on. Then Serbot took the lead, telling Biff to stay beside him, while Pepito guarded one flank and Urubu the other, all three carrying ready rifles. The bearers stepped along close together, eager to get through the Macu territory. “Keep a sharp watch,” Serbot told Biff. “The Macus caught you yesterday. Don’t let them trap you again today.” Occasionally, Biff managed to look back, hoping that Kamuka had come from cover and was stealing along behind the safari. Soon Biff gave that up, realizing that if Kamuka had decided to follow them, he would be staying completely out of sight. When they reached the spot where the Macus had bobbed up the day before, Biff recognized it. He turned to Serbot and said, “This is where the head-hunters were yesterday.” Serbot swung about and ordered the safari to halt. As the bearers set down their packs, Biff studied their faces and realized that some were members of the group that Whitman had organized, the natives who had started home when Joe Nara had exhibited the shrunken heads. Their meeting with Serbot’s safari must have scared some of Serbot’s crew into going back to Santa Isabel. But Serbot or Urubu must have talked some of Whitman’s men into coming along as replacements. Now Biff understood how Serbot had learned so much about Luiz. After a brief rest, Serbot asked Biff, “Were there many head-hunters here?” “Yes,” replied Biff. “A lot of them.” “And which way did they take you?” Biff pointed to the west. Smoothly, Serbot asked, “If there were so many, how did you manage to escape today?” “Because most of them had left before dawn to go hunting,” replied Biff. “That’s why I was afraid of running into them.” “Good. We’ll be on the watch for them.” Serbot ordered the safari forward. At the end of another mile, they came to a side trail, which cut sharply in the direction of the Rio Negro. After a rapid discussion with Urubu, so thick with dialect that Biff could not understand it, Serbot decided to take the river route. As they started along it, Serbot spoke to Biff, using the smooth, easy tone that reminded Biff of their first meeting in the airplane above the Amazon. “If the Macus are hunting along the main trail,” declared Serbot, “they will never bother to come this way. That makes it all the safer for us. Anyone taking the main trail would be gone, for certain.” That was passed along by Urubu to the bearers, who not only were pleased, but quickened their pace, hoping to get out of Macu territory all the faster. But Biff’s heart sank, for he was afraid there would be no catching up with his own safari now. Then Biff noted that Serbot was studying him steadily. Evidently, the smiling man was anxious to learn which way the other safari had gone, and was hoping that Biff’s change of manner would give the fact away. Suddenly, there came an interruption that gave Biff a cause for real alarm. “Listen!” he exclaimed. From the treetops came a running chatter that seemed to carry like a wave from somewhere off in the jungle. Biff recognized the excited gabble. “The howler monkeys!” he told Serbot. “That’s the way they acted after the Macus shot some of them with arrows yesterday!” Serbot tried to gauge the direction of the sound, then ordered the safari onward, faster. They followed the rough, irregular trail until they reached a spot where the chatter lessened and finally quieted altogether. Serbot waved for the bearers to set down their packs. The order came just in time. The bearers themselves pointed to heads and shoulders that bobbed from behind trees and bushes. Terrified, the bearers shouted, “Macu!” Serbot dived behind a pack, to use it as a shelter. Pepito and Urubu did the same, expecting Biff to join them with the huddling bearers, for spears, arrows, and darts were now skimming toward them. Instead, Biff acted upon sudden impulse and raced along the jungle trail. He heard guns blast in back of him, but knew Serbot and the others were too busy shooting at the attacking head-hunters to worry about him. Biff passed a turn in the trail and knew then that he was safe from gunfire, but he had his eye on an opening in the jungle another hundred feet ahead. There, Biff was sure that he could duck from sight the way Kamuka had. But Biff was becoming too hopeful too soon. Less than halfway to the spot, Biff halted in his tracks as the foliage parted and a painted Macu warrior loomed in sight. Armed with bow and arrow, the deadly marksman was already taking aim at Biff with his bowstring fully drawn. Another moment, and the poison-tipped arrow would be in flight, allowing Biff no chance of escape at such close range! |
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