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Updated: June 23, 2025
For the first time since leaving the Monitaya region a path lay under their feet. And for the first time Tucu and his fellow Mayorunas, glancing along that faint track, showed hesitation. "Why the delay?" snapped McKay. "They suspect traps. I will go ahead and feel out the way. I have done it before on other paths." After a few words to Tucu, Lourenço cut a long, slim pole.
The leader and guide, one Tucu, was a veteran hunter, fighter, and bushranger, who had been more than once in the Red Bone region and withal possessed the cool judgment of mature years and long experience; a lean, silent man who, though not a subchief, might have made a good one if given the opportunity.
Hour after hour Knowlton squatted in the extreme bow, picking out the turns and snags just ahead and passing the word back to Lourenço, who, in the stern, steered in accordance with his orders and relayed the course to Tucu, just behind. Amidships, Pedro and McKay plied steady paddles and the Raposa lay all but forgotten on the baggage. There were no halts.
Though the savages asked nothing and evidently expected nothing from the whites to eke out this scant provision, the latter opened their meager larders to Tucu, ordering him to see that every man had at least a few mouthfuls to eat. Tucu, like a good commander, made no bones of accepting the invitation for the good of his men.
It was not one of the frequently used trails of the Monitaya people, but a mere picada, or hunter's track; yet even this had its pitfalls to guard the tribal house. Soon after leaving the clearing Tucu turned aside, passed between trees off the trail, went directly under one tree whose steep-slanting roots stood up off the ground like great down-pointing fingers, and returned to the path.
If they offered Tim a broiled foot or a stewed hand he'd go for his gun." Briefly Tucu spoke. The Mayorunas separated and went into the forest, seeking any sign of other enemies. "Queer that this chap should come here alone if he was alone," added Knowlton. "Suppose he's the fellow that's been swiping stray girls? Or a spy?" "Neither, I think, senhor.
McKay, all-seeing, decided to wash Rand's face for him before journeying much farther. But Rand himself gave no sign that he either knew or cared what the feeling of the Mayorunas might be. Utterly impassive, he stared back at them. Then one of the women pointed at him and said something to Tucu. The tall watchdog's jaw set a little harder as he waited the effect.
Tucu moved his head slightly, but gave no other sign of having heard. "Now, Capitao, step forward a little and show yourself more clearly," prompted Pedro. With another puzzled glance McKay did so. He saw that the brown eyes of the younger man held a dancing gleam, but he could not read the thought behind those eyes.
You fellows are taking all the risks! Can't you take more men " "No. No man but Tucu. He has a cool head. These others, if they knew, would go blood-mad and attack the Red Bones to avenge their lost women, and so would get us all killed. Now I will talk with Tucu." He slipped into the Mayoruna shelter and returned with the cannibal leader, whom he led to the far side of the tambo before speaking.
His tone was slow, quiet, easy the tone which, even if the words were not understood, would soothe suspicious and abruptly alarmed minds. After another short silence he resumed talking, pointing carelessly to the place behind him where stood the silent file of Mayorunas. A guttural voice replied. A head peered cautiously from the edge of the bush, stared fixedly at Tucu, and withdrew.
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