"Yes. He opened the door and motioned for them to run, but before they could escape they were caught. He was badly beaten. You will remember that he was hiding behind that same house when Pedro and Senhor Knowlton saw him. Perhaps he meant to try again."
"Hm! Crazy and wild, but a white man for all that. How did you manage to free the women?"
"Very simple," was the cool answer. "We stabbed the guards, opened the door, and came back to the creek with the women."
"Just like that, eh? And the guards made no resistance, I suppose."
"Not much," grinned the bushman. "They were not allowed to."
"I see. Very simple, as you say. About as simple as our calm and unhurried departure."
"Something like that, Capitao. What do you desire for breakfast—salt fish and coffee, or coffee and salt fish?"
"A little of everything, thanks. Here comes some monkey meat, too."
The first of the hunters had returned, bringing two big red howlers. Others drifted in at intervals, and not one returned empty handed; for here in the virgin jungle the game was plentiful, particularly at this early hour. Soon the air was heavy with the odor of broiling meat, and from the fire of the Brazilians the fragrance of coffee was wafted to the nostrils of the recumbent Knowlton. He arose, swallowing fast.
"Gee! I'm half drowned!" was his humorous complaint. "The smell of eats makes my mouth water so fast I have to gasp for air. Must tickle your nose, too, eh, Rand, old top?"