“They might pass the word along to Puerto Ayacucho, below the lower rapids,” returned Nara. “I’ll go ahead on the first truck with Igo and Ubi, so I can check on any rumors.”
It took most of the day to make trucking arrangements, and to transport boats as well as cargo over the modern highway that spans the intervening streams on big steel bridges. Biff found the trip interesting, with stretches of open country and barren hills as well as wooded slopes and forested areas.
The highway followed the right bank of the Orinoco, which belongs to Venezuela, while the land on the other side of the river is part of the Republic of Colombia. At Puerto Ayacucho, they found Igo and Ubi waiting to load the ore sacks into Nara’s monteria, when it arrived. But there was no sign of Nara.
According to Igo and Ubi, Nara had gone somewhere immediately after arriving in Puerto Ayacucho. But Mr. Brewster, inquiring at stores, hotels, and elsewhere, was unable to find anyone who had even seen the old white-haired prospector.
“The only place left,” Mr. Brewster declared, chuckling, “is the governor’s office. Maybe Joe Nara is having lunch with His Excellency. Should we try there?”
“I don’t think so,” returned Hal Whitman dryly. “From the way Nara looks for trouble, we might do better if we asked at the local calaboose.”
Mr. Brewster smiled at that reference to the town jail.
“I’ve already asked there,” he said. Then, turning to the boys, he added, “Look around for Nara, and if you don’t have any luck, I guess we’ll have to call on the governor’s office to help us find him.”
Kamuka noticed some natives lounging near an old shack on the high bank of the river.
“Maybe they have seen Senhor Nara,” Kamuka said to Biff. “But you will have to ask them. They do not speak Portuguese as I do. They talk Spanish, which you understand.”