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Updated: June 10, 2025
Only chance to do that is to get the canoes. With them we can at least be away from this town by sunrise, and it will take the Red Bones just so much longer to find our trail where we take to the bush. We'll get a flying start that way. Anything else to suggest?" "That is the best plan, Capitao," Lourenço agreed.
It is currently reported, and commonly believed, that once upon a time a Portuguese named Jose Pedra, by the natives called Nyamatimbira, chief, or capitao mor, of Zumbo, a man of large enterprise and small humanity, being anxious to ascertain if Kebrabasa could be navigated, made two slaves fast to a canoe, and launched it from Chicova into Kebrabasa, in order to see if it would come out at the other end.
See, Capitao." McKay looked down on a leg bone. At some time the leg had been broken and badly set, if set at all. The bone was crooked. "A short Indian with a crooked leg. Schwandorf's messenger!" "Si. No man will ever receive the message he bore. He camped here days ago. Now he camps here forever."
And how about letting Tucu lead the parade again?" "Excellent, Capitao! I was thinking of that." Lourenço talked to Tucu, who swung out into the current. The boat of the white men followed, then the others. At a steady cruising speed the brigade surged on downstream. Knowlton's allotted hour passed. Pedro took his place and was instantly asleep.
"I was a lieutenant." "Ah! But the war has passed, senhores. Senhor Schwandorf was not a soldier of Germany he has been in Brazil for more than six years." "War's over. That's right," McKay agreed. "But don't bother to send word. We'll find him if he's at the hotel. Going there ourselves. Glad to have met you, sir. Good luck!" "And to you also luck, Capitao and Tenente," smiled the official.
"His purpose is not changed by our arrival, Capitao. He and his men go to-morrow to attack and destroy the Red Bones. When they reach the town of Umanuh they will surround it, and all will rush in when the chief gives his yell of war." "About what I expected. An Indian has a single-track mind always. But his strategy is rotten.
And let me tell you this, Capitao Makkay, whether you like it or not: Pedro and I would see this wild man and a million others like him in a hotter place than this before we would abandon fighting comrades." To which McKay, finding no adequate answer, made none whatever. Like a fleet manned by sightless sailors the line of boats blundered on through the blackness.
"Davey! David Rand!" "Perhaps so, Capitao. I do not know. But he spoke English." "By thunder! David Rand! Merry, where's that picture?" Knowlton was already unbuttoning his pocket flap. Quickly he produced the photograph. "That the fellow?" Lourenço studied the face. The eagerly anticipated affirmative did not come. "I cannot say surely.
"Sometimes, Capitao, the devil puts into the hands of men a weapon which is turned against himself. So it is now. That Allemao, Schwandorf, never expected you to reach the people you seek, but the plan is good. It would not be good if you followed it exactly as he laid it out, but things have changed; and what you could not do with Peruvian companions, or alone, you perhaps can do with us.
"The Red Bone says we shall see the chief," Lourenço stated. "At first he said only you, Capitao, should go to him. Then he insisted that we all lay down our arms. Tucu has told him we lay down our arms for no man or men; that we come in peace otherwise there would be many more of us; that we leave in peace unless the Red Bones themselves bring on a fight.
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