Biff Brewster - Brazilian Gold Mine Mystery Part 6

Jacome was calling "Luiz!" again, but this time there was no response. Mr. Brewster gave the prompt order: "Bring lights and hurry!"

From the way the path showed in the gleam of their flashlights, it was plain that Luiz could have followed it rapidly in the dark, for it formed the only opening through the brush. Biff and Kamuka, racing along beside Jacome, were the first to reach the arch of trees above the quicksand.

They halted there, but saw no sign of a human figure in the muck. The glare revealed nothing but floating water flowers until big Jacome pointed out what appeared to be a lily pad. Biff exclaimed: "Luiz'shat!"

It was lying brim downward in the ooze, beyond the bough from which Biff had rescued Kamuka. This time it was Kamuka who scrambled along the branch and used a big stick that Jacome tossed him to prod the quicksand, but with no result.

From the bank, Mr. Brewster studied the scene grimly, noting that the farther out Kamuka jabbed the stick, the easier and deeper it went.

"That cry from Luiz was his last," decided Mr. Brewster. "In his flight, he must have plunged much farther than Kamuka did this afternoon. That is why the quicksand swallowed him much faster."

THE SHRUNKEN HEADS 79.

From the bank, Jacome and other natives dragged the mire with stones attached to long liana vines, but received no answering tugs from the pulpy quicksand. When they pushed long sticks down into the mire, they went completely out of sight, to stay.

"There's no reclaiming anything lost in those depths," Biff's father said soberly. "That goes for Luiz, too."

When they returned to the campsite, Mr. Brewster dismantled the crude dummy that he had placed beside the fire. It was formed from wads of gra.s.s, palm stalks, and small logs, which had made it bulky enough to be mistaken for a sleeping figure in the uncertain firelight.

"After what you told me," Mr. Brewster said to Biff and Kamuka, "I decided to test Luiz. I did everything but mention Joe Nara by name. I made this dummy figure so I could watch Luiz if he tried to steal the map he had been told I carried. At the same time, I was guarding my life against his treachery."

"But, Dad!" exclaimed Biff. "Serbot never told Luiz to kill you. He simply told him to delay our safari."

"And to Luiz's way of thinking," declared Mr. Brewster, "the simplest way of accomplis.h.i.+ng that would be by killing me. Here in the jungle, people think and act in very direct terms, particularly the natives."

Mr. Brewster and Mr. Whitman began a discussion of the next steps to be taken. They agreed that the 80 .

sooner the safari moved along, the better. Mr. Brew-ster put a question to Jacome.

"You have been to Piedra Del Cucuy before, Jacome. Could you find your way there again?"

"I think so, Senhor."

"Then you will be our guide as far as the big rock. Have the bearers ready to move at dawn."

Daylight was tinting the vast canopy of jungle leaves when the safari started back toward the main trail. The setting was somber at this early hour, but the silence was soon broken by some scattered jungle cries. Then, clear and sharp, came the metallic note of the bellbird. Mr. Brewster waved the safari to a stop and said: "Listen."

The call was repeated. Mr. Brewster turned to Kamuka and asked: "What kind of bird is that? Campanero or Urubu?"

Biff smiled at the way his father used the term for "bellbird" along with Urubu's nickname of "vulture." But Kamuka kept a very serious face as he replied.

"It is Urubu. Look, Senhor. I show you why."

He pointed to a white-feathered bird that formed a tiny spot on the high branch of a tree.

"There is real campanero" declared Kamuka. "He is saying nothing. He would answer if he heard real call."

Mr. Brewster studied the bellbird through a pair of binoculars and promptly agreed with Kamuka. He handed the gla.s.ses to Biff, who noted that the bird, THE SHRUNKEN HEADS 81.

which was something like a waxwing, but larger, had an appendage that extended from its forehead and draped down over its bill. This ornament, jet-black in color, was starred with tiny tufts of feathers. Mr. Brewster called it a caruncle and explained that it was commonly seen on various species of tropical birds noted for their ringing cries.

But this bellbird remained silent, even when the distant anvil sound clanged anew.

"Urubu is signaling for Luiz," declared Mr. Brewster. "He may wait an hour or so and try again. When Serbot finally decides that we have moved on, he will think that Luiz is taking us the long way. We should get a good head start, right now."

The safari pressed forward at a quick pace which was maintained most of the day. The going was not as hard as Biff had antic.i.p.ated. Luiz's talk of a tough trail had been a sham, so that the party would be willing to take the long route.

Even some of the streams they encountered were already bridged with fallen trees, making crossing easy. After one such crossing, Jacome suggested stopping to eat. Mr. Brewster opened some canned goods, but most of the bearers preferred bowls of coa.r.s.e cereal, made from the manioc or ca.s.sava plant. This formed their chief diet.

Jacome gnawed on a large bone of left-over tapir meat. When he had finished half of the meat, he suddenly tossed the bone into the stream. Instantly, the water flashed with silvery streaks in the shape of long, 82 .

jleek fish that fought for the bone and tore the re-onaining meat to shreds.

"Piranha," grunted Jacome. "They rip anybody who goes in water. If we chop away tree, Urubu will have to stop to build new bridge to get across."

"Serbot might suspect something," objected Mr. Brewster. "If they guess that we are on the same trail ahead of them, they will hurry. It is better to let them think that they can take their time."

Jacome still found time to fish for piranha during the short rest. The cannibal fish practically leaped from the water to take the bait. Jacome took no chances with the sharp teeth that projected from their bulldog jaws. He cut the lines and tossed the fish into a basket, hooks and all. When the safari made camp at dusk, they cooked the piranha, and the fish proved a tasty dinner, indeed.

Mr. Brewster kept the safari at a steady pace during the next few days in order to stay ahead of Serbot's party. Jacome proved an excellent guide, remembering every landmark along the trail. One afternoon, a rain ended as they trudged beside the bank of a sluggish stream and Jacome pointed into the distance with the comment: "Big rock. There."

It was Piedra Del Cucuy, a huge, stumpy shaft of granite, towering hundreds of feet above the forest. The rock was streaked with tiny trees that looked like sprinklings from the vast green vegetation that THE SHRUNKEN HEADS 83.

spread beneath. Though the natural boundary marker was still a day's march away, the mere sight of it spurred on the safari.

In the light of dawn, the big rock seemed much closer, and within a few hours' trek, even its cracks and furrows showed sharply. Trails began to join, and suddenly the trees spread as the safari emerged upon a sandy beach lapped by the black water of the Rio Negro.

There wasn't a sign of a boat nor of any habitation until Kamuka pointed to a movement in the brush, a few hundred feet downstream. Mr. Brewster stepped forward, spreading his arms with a wide sweep.

"If it's Joe Nara," Mr. Brewster told Biff, "he will recognize us. If not, be ready to get back to shelter!"

Two figures bobbed into sight, and Biff recognized the squatty forms of Igo and Ubi. They turned and gestured. A few moments later they were joined by Joe Nara. All three came forward to meet the safari. Nara was carrying a small package under his arm.

The bearers were laying down their packs and other equipment when Nara cried excitedly: "We hoped it would be you, Brewster, but we weren't sure. The Macus have been attacking villages up and down the river. Everywhere, we have heard the cry: 'Macu! Macu!'until we-"

"Hold it, Nara," broke in Mr. Brewster. "We have more important things to talk about first."

The native bearers were coming forward silently, 84 .

and Biff realized that they were drawn by that dreaded word, Macu. But Mr. Brewster wasn't able to hush Joe Nara.

"What's more important than Macu head-hunters?" the old man demanded. "If you don't believe me, Brewster, look at what I picked up downriver!"

Before Mr. Brewster could stop him, Joe Nara ripped open the package that he carried. Under the eyes of the native bearers who now were crowding close about him, Nara brought out a pair of shrunken human heads, triumphantly displaying one in each hand!

CHAPTER X.

Trapped by the Head-hunters FROM the babble that followed, Biff realized that the damage had been done. The bearers s.h.i.+ed away as though the tiny heads were alive and ready to attack them. They made a hurried retreat toward the trail from which the safari had come. Out of their excited chatter, Biff could distinguish the words: "Macu here! We go home-quick!"

Biff, meanwhile, was studying the shrunken heads in amazement. Reduced to the size of baseb.a.l.l.s, their human appearance was preserved in miniature form. Cords closed the lips, and feathered ornaments hung from the ears of these grotesque trophies.

Though Biff had heard how head-hunters dealt with their victims, he had thought of shrunken heads as curios rather than as something gruesome. But here, on a tropical riverbank, where the deadly Macus might pop up in person, the grisly trophies were fearful things indeed.

When Biff looked from the tiny heads in Nara's 86 .

hands to the scared faces of the cl.u.s.tered natives, he noted a striking similarity between them. He knew that the natives saw it, too, each picturing himself as a head-hunter's prospective victim. Mr. Whitman and Jacome were trying to quiet the wild babble but to no avail. Mr. Brewster gestured to the shrunken heads and told Nara: "Put those away."

Old Joe wrapped the souvenirs with a chuckle, as though he relished the confusion he had caused. Jacome approached and spoke solemnly to Mr. Brewster.

"It is no good," Jacome said. "They want pay. They want to go back to Santa Isabel-far away from Macu."

"What about you, Jacome?" inquired Mr. Brewster. "Do you want to go with them?"

"I want to go, yes," admitted Jacome, "but I want more to stay with you. So I stay."

Mr. Brewster turned to Kamuka. "And you, Kamuka?"

"I stay with Biff."

"Good boy!" Biff clapped Kamuka on the shoulder. "I knew a couple of little shrunken heads wouldn't scare you."

"I have seen such heads before," rejoined Kamuka calmly, "but always heads of men. Never any head of a boy. So why should heads scare me?"

Mr. Brewster paid off the bearers in Brazilian cruzeiro notes, saying he would give them double if they TRAPPED BY THE HEAD-HUNTERS 87.

stayed with the safari, but there were no takers. In English, Mr. Whitman undertoned the suggestion: "Keep talking to them. They still may stay."

"No, it must be voluntary," returned Mr. Brewster, "as with Jacome and Kamuka. Otherwise, they will desert us later."

The bearers hastily packed their few belongings, took a supply of food, and started back along the trail. Mr. Brewster remarked to Joe Nara, "Now I suppose we shall have to go upriver in the Xanadu."

"We can't," returned Nara. "We had to haul the cruiser up on sh.o.r.e below the big rapids. The friendly natives who helped were the ones who told us about the Macus and gave us the shrunken heads. We've come the rest of the way in a canoe."

Nara paused and gestured down the riverbank.

"We hid it there," he added, "so we could wait for you."

"We have rubber boats in our equipment," stated Mr. Brewster. "We can inflate them for the trip up-river."

"But there are many more rapids," objected Nara, "with no natives to help you carry the boats past them. You will have to go overland by a back trail."

"Where will we find new bearers?"

"From a native village a mile or so in there." Nara gestured to another jungle path. "I'll send Igo and Ubi along to introduce you."

Mr. Brewster delegated the task of hiring the bearers to Hal Whitman, who left, accompanied by Ja- 88 .

come and Nara's two Wai Wai Indians. Biff and Kamuka took a swim in the safe water of the river. As they sat drying themseves in the sun, the boys watched Nara describe the route to Mr. Brewster. With a stick, old Joe drew a wiggly line in the sand and said: "This here is the Rio Negro. I keep going up it until I turn east on another river." Nara made a line that wiggled to the right. "I don't know its right name- if it has any-but the natives call it-"

"Rio Del Muerte," interposed Mr. Brewster. "The River of Death."

"Lew Kirby told you that, did he?"

"Yes. That's where he said I'd find you. Somewhere up the Rio Del Muerte."

Nara showed a pleased smile at this new token of a bond between his former partner, Lew Kirby, and Mr. Brewster.

"Your trail will bring you to the Rio Del Muerte," resumed Nara, "but you will strike it many miles above the mine."

"How many miles above?"

"I wouldn't know. I have never gone by that route. But the native bearers will know when they reach the Rio Del Muerte."

"And then?"

"Then you follow it downstream until you meet me."

"Where will that be?"

TRAPPED BY THE HEAD-HUNTERS 89.

Nara eyed Mr. Brewster in quick, birdlike fas.h.i.+on, then decided to answer the question.

"At a split rock on the north bank," stated Nara, "They call it La Porta Del Diablo, or the Devil's Gate. Come through the gateway and continue up the ravine. It leads to El Dorado. I will meet you on the way."

Mr. Whitman and Jacome were coming from the jungle with a crew of natives. Mr. Brewster spoke quickly to Nara. "Don't show those shrunken heads to these chaps!"

This time old Joe kept his shrunken heads out of sight. He and his two Wai Wais left to get their canoe, and soon the Indians were paddling up the Rio Negro. Joe Nara was waving from between two heaps of packs and luggage.

Mr. Brewster, meanwhile, had opened a box of trinkets that he was distributing to create good will. Eagerly, the natives accepted colored marbles, bright s.h.i.+ny beads, little round mirrors, and other geegaws. Biff saw Kamuka looking longingly at the eye-catching gifts and mentioned it to his father, who promptly gave some to the Indian boy.

Kamuka took some marbles and a mirror, but with a slight show of reluctance. It was evident that he valued things that were useful as well as showy. Among the a.s.sortment, Biff found a small microscope. He handed it to Kamuka with the comment: "Here's something you will really like. This gla.s.s 90 .

makes little things look big." Biff held the lens above an ant that was crawling along a dried palm leaf. "Here, see for yourself."

Kamuka tried the simple microscope and smiled when he saw that the insect appeared larger.

"I like it," he declared, "but I like mirror better, because I can flash sunlight, like you did."

"You can use this gla.s.s with the sun, too," Biff said. "Hold it close to the leaf-that's right-now tilt it so the sun s.h.i.+nes through. Keep it that way and wait."

Kamuka didn't have to wait long. The sun's focused rays soon burned a hole in the leaf. Kamuka tried another leaf with the same result. He turned to Biff and remarked: "With a lot of dry leaves, all in one pile, you can start big fire with this-maybe?"