The Radio Detectives in the Jungle

by A. Hyatt Verrill

He had wisely refrained from devouring all of the trumpet bird and now, feeling hungry and seeing nothing to shoot, he seated himself on a fallen tree and munched the bird’s drumsticks. Throughout the afternoon he tramped on, forcing himself forward by sheer will power, for he was exhausted by the tramp, his feet were swollen and sore, he was half starved and his skin was scratched, bruised, barked and bitten by insects. Then, when he felt that he could go no farther, that perhaps after all the best thing to do would be to put a bullet through his own head, he smelled smoke. There was no question of it, he sniffed the air and knew that near at hand was a fire, that he was close to a camp or hut, that there were fellow men not far away and, leaving the stream and following the scent of pungent wood smoke, he hurried onwards.

Stronger and stronger became the odor. Now he could see the faint bluish haze among the trees and feeling that he was saved, that food and help were near, he hurried forward. A moment later he saw the fire, a smouldering pile of branches, and with a despairing cry he flung himself down. The fire was his own! Close to it were the great mora roots where he had spent the night; all about were scattered the feathers of the trumpet bird. He had traveled in a circle, had come back to his starting point and all that heartbreaking, terrible tramp had been for nothing!

Utterly done up, thoroughly discouraged, feeling that he could do no more, he lay there striving to summon sufficient courage to place his pistol at his ear and pull the trigger. Then to his dulling senses, came the sound of a stealthy footfall and roused to sudden interest, he raised his head, glanced about and cocked his pistol as he did so. And at the sight which met his eyes, he was galvanized into life and action. Within ten feet of where he lay, crouched a hideous, terrifying apparition, a figure red as blood from whose chest glared two huge, painted eyes and a fang-filled mouth, a figure whose matted tangled hair framed a face demoniacal in his expression of mingled hate and fury and whose upraised hand grasped a heavy, hardwood club.

With a yell that rang through the forest, the white man whirled and throwing up his pistol pulled the trigger. But at the same instant the avenger leaped like his tiger namesake, the bullet whistled harmlessly past his head, the club descended and his victim sank with a moan. With the savage, terrible cry of the jaguar gloating over its kill, the Indian stood above the huddled motionless form, fierce eyes watching for the slightest movement, club upraised.

Then suddenly, he turned, listening intently, as to his keen ears came unexpected sounds, the noise of a boat’s keel grating on rock and the shouts of men.

For a brief instant the avenger hesitated, then with a bound he vanished in the shadows and from the depths of the forest came his mocking, triumphant cry--the bloodcurdling, awesome wail of the jaguar, He had accomplished his purpose. His murdered tribesman was avenged.

CHAPTER XII—THE END OF THE TRAIL

For some time after their precipitate departure from the spot where the red-bearded man’s body had been found, those in the boat remained silent.

The Indians, frightened and with all their primitive superstitions aroused, plied their paddles and glanced fearfully first at one shore and then at the other, but uttered no words. Colcord, half Indian as he was, shared his copper-skinned companions’ terror to some extent and kept the boat in midstream, swinging her wide of each point and islet. The boys, still shuddering at the horrible sight they had seen, were subdued and too much impressed to talk; Mr. Pauling, Mr. Henderson and the explorer were deep in thought and even the irrepressible Rawlins had no comment to make in the face of this awful tragedy.

But as the point where lay the gruesome remains of what had once been the red-bearded giant was left behind and the trees hid the circling birds of ill omen from sight, the spirits of those in the boat revived and their thoughts turned to the future and what might lie ahead of them. There was now but one man to search for, the chase had narrowed down, but this very fact added to their problems and reduced their chances of success.