“Look back there!”
Native canoes had come around the bend. Seeing the flotilla stuck among the sandbars, the tribesmen increased their paddle strokes. Nara grabbed a rifle and shouted to Mr. Brewster:
“Get your boats clear! I’ll fight them off!”
“Keep going!” ordered Mr. Brewster. Then, to Nara, he called: “Don’t start shooting! They outnumber us ten to one, and those spears of theirs have poison tips. Once they start throwing them, we won’t have a chance—”
It was too late. Joe Nara couldn’t be stopped, once his mind was made up. He opened fire at the canoes when they reached the first sandbar. Two dozen warriors rose to fling their deadly spears!
CHAPTER XVIII
Urubu Again
With the first crackle of Nara’s rifle, Mr. Brewster shouted, “Down everybody—and get ready for them!” That, Biff knew, could be more than just a shower of spears. The warriors themselves would be arriving next, with other weapons. The only hope would be a few more pole thrusts, but while that might save some of the party, it wouldn’t help Joe Nara.
It happened though, that Nara had helped himself. Those crazy shots that peppered the sandbars without coming near a canoe, unleashed a terrific force that took the native warriors by complete surprise. As they poised their spears, the sandbanks sprang into life before their eyes.
Roused by the blasts of Nara’s guns and the ping of the bullets in their sandy sunning spot, the anacondas lashed their way straight downstream in a broad horde of writhing fury that seemed to stretch like a monstrous ribbon, two hundred feet in length.
The stampede of mighty boa constrictors swept everything from their path. Their thick bodies and lashing coils spilled the canoes and plunged the native warriors into the canal, spears and all.