Tim said nothing. He squinted again at the headless arrow, then inspected the breech bolt of his rifle.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE WAY OF THE JUNGLE
Dawn came, dismal, damp, and chill. Moisture dripped drearily from the upper reaches, and under the dense canopy of leaves and limbs the gloom and the fog together made a murk wherein the early-rising bushmen were scarcely visible to the North Americans ten feet away. Yet day had come, or was coming; the noise of the animal world left little doubt of that.
By the light of a sullen smoky fire and oil-smeared torches Pedro and Lourenço made up their packs, cording them roughly with bark-cloth strips brought from headquarters. The Americans, after eating a more solid meal than the Brazilians seemed to require, also rolled their blankets, hammocks, nets, and other paraphernalia; strapped the outfits into the army pack harnesses which they had transported for thousands of miles and never yet used; crammed their web belts with cartridges; slung their sheathed machetes down their left thighs; looked to their guns; and announced themselves ready to go.
While the northerners made these final preparations their guides slipped away for a time. Pedro, on his return, announced that the canoes had been concealed. Lourenço, bringing back the freshly filled canteens of the ex-army men, delivered with them the marching orders of the day.
"If you thirst, comrades, drink only from your canteens. If the canteens fail, never fill them from flowing water unless the Indians also drink from the stream. There are always small pools to be found, and, though their water may be warm and stale, it is not likely to be poisoned, as the streams may be.
"To-day, and every day after we meet the cannibals, make no suspicious moves. Do not speak harshly. Do not laugh or sneer at them. They are unreasoning and easily insulted, and lifelong foes when angered. Let me do the talking.
"Do not hold a gun in a threatening manner or draw pistols unless you must fight. Then kill.