Mr. Brewster’s meeting with Serbot resulted in an immediate, though guarded truce. Mr. Whitman and Jacome moved up to back Mr. Brewster, while Serbot was beckoning for Pepito and Urubu to come and join him. The boys stayed in the background as did Serbot’s bearers, none of whom had been injured in the brief fray.
How many head-hunters might be lying dead in the brush or limping away wounded, there was no telling, but the battle had been won rapidly and effectively. Serbot seemed duly appreciative as he purred:
“We owe you much, amigo. You have helped us. Perhaps there is some way we can help you.”
“None at all,” Mr. Brewster said curtly. “Now that we have driven off the Macus, we can go our separate ways.”
“But how can you go anywhere? You have no bearers.”
“They are waiting farther up the main trail, with our equipment. We left them while we came back to look for the boys.”
Serbot promptly raised a new line of inquiry.
“Perhaps you are surprised to see me here,” he suggested, “So far from Manaus, where we last met.”
“Why should I be surprised?” returned Mr. Brewster. “We are both looking for balata, aren’t we?”
“I am not looking for rubber,” Serbot declared. “I am looking for a man named Joe Nara, who claims to have a gold mine somewhere near the headwaters of the Rio Negro. He came down to Manaus in a fast boat shortly before you left your hotel.”