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Updated: June 6, 2025
No wonder he and his men are wary of the Mayorunas they thought we'd come to snoop around and catch 'em with the goods. You fellows must have done a mighty slick job to find out this stuff without getting caught. Isn't the house guarded at night?" "Indeed it is! Two clubmen are there now, and there is only the one door. Not even a window.
Mind, I speak now of the Mayorunas, not of the Red Bones. I tell you again that the Red Bone country is closed." "And where is the Mayoruna region?" "In the same general section. The Mayorunas are much more widely distributed. They are on both banks of the Javary and extend as far west as the Ucayali.
Backward they reeled, striving now to escape the red wall of cold steel surging at them only to fall under a fresh attack of ravening Mayorunas who came pouring in upon them from the sides. The last of the group lurched headless to the ground under a decapitating side-swing from the awful club of Monitaya himself.
A shrill yell had run along the double line of houses, and out into the stumpy street now swarmed men armed with hastily seized weapons. Hands pointed, confused exclamations sounded, and a compact detachment of warriors came jogging toward the newcomers. The three guides drew away from the Mayorunas.
Before them, ranged in a semicircle, stood hundreds of Mayorunas men, women, children all silently watching the canoes of the newcomers. In the center of the arc, like the hub of a human half wheel, a small knot of men waited in aloof dignity, four of them adorned with the ornate feather dresses of subchiefs, backed by a dozen tall, muscular savages, each armed with a huge war club.
Straight away along a vague path beginning at the rear of the malocas marched the twenty-four, the two northerners bending under the weight of their packs, the pair of Brazilians sweeping the jungle with practiced eyes, the score of Mayorunas striding velvet footed, resplendent in brilliant new paint and headdresses, armed with the most powerful weapons of their tribe, and loftily conscious of the fact that they were chosen as Monitaya's best.
His hard-set face showed he meant it. Lourenço spoke to the Mayorunas, urging that camp be made at once. He and Pedro strode away, and all three of the Indians followed. "Really think he'll pull through, Rod?" Knowlton asked, then. "If he does you're a miracle worker." "It's an experiment," McKay confessed, watching Yuara with unswerving intentness.
Headlong he dived into the mass of Red Bones just behind. And the next bullets darting after him killed the savages, leaving him unharmed. The command of McKay and the crack of the rifles sent the quivering Mayorunas into the fight. In a flash every masking tunnel cover was thrown bodily into the air.
But in order that we may go safely and return without harm he will send with us twenty of his best men. These men will have orders to protect us at all times, unless fighting is caused by our making a needless attack on the Red Bones. In that case the Mayorunas will do nothing to help us. They will only defend themselves." "Fair enough!" nodded McKay. "Tell him we'll start no fight.
"So now," Lourenço resumed, "if I can find that chief again he may have been killed in some tribal fight before now he may be friendly to all of us. Or he may not. Savages cannot be relied on with much certainty. But if any of the Mayorunas will help us, he will. It is worth trying." "And if he is not friendly " Knowlton paused. "We do not come back," Pedro finished. "Have you a better plan?"
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