"Tucu evidently left orders for them to get up at a certain time, but why I don't know. We'd better let them alone."
The shadow line passed out upon the water, slipping by infinitesimal gradations across its mirror surface. The Mayorunas had become quiet. The whites waited in silent suspense for they knew not what. Far out in the forest a jaguar gave his coughing roar at intervals. Little by little the Red Bone men arose from their squat until they stood erect. A tense stillness held both forces. And the shadows crawled on—on—and reached the farther bank.
Then a Red Bone man shoved his head forward, squinting upstream as if he had heard something move in the rank grass. He began to sneak softly in that direction. At that moment, from the water's edge a little above the camp, sounded a loud hiss.
Before the sound died a sudden thrum of bow cords filled the air. A whisper of five-foot shafts speeding over the water—a rapid-fire series of tiny impacts—a couple of short groans—the thumps of falling bodies—and the Red Bone outpost was no more. Shot through and through by the deadly war arrows of the Mayorunas, they were dead before they struck the ground. And from the men of Monitaya sounded one short, subdued "Hah!" of savage satisfaction.
Up from the ground where that hiss had sounded rose a tall figure which waved its arms and danced about in impromptu signals. Then it ran for the canoes. Out from the gloom upstream other figures took shape, running fast for the same point. With one simultaneous movement Knowlton and McKay seized the Raposa and rushed with him to the stream.
"Senhores!" sounded Pedro's voice, low but tense, across the water. "Be ready!"
"Ready and waiting!" snapped McKay. "Who are those people. Your women?"
"Si. We are not discovered—"
Across his words smote a long shrill yell from the town.
"Por Deus. We are discovered! Get our rifles, for the love of Deus Padre."