“Here’s where we’ve got to watch our step, Prim! Savages have a way of hiding in ambush and shooting poison arrows at their enemies,” whispered Terry.
“But we’re not their enemies. We’d—why Terry, we’d try to like them if they’d give us a chance,” Prim was looking anxiously around the shrub as she spoke.
Terry started to tiptoe toward the mud huts, although it was not necessary to guard her footfalls, for the soft green floor of the jungle gave back no sound. Prim tried to pull her sister back but Terry jerked away.
“Come on. We haven't any need to worry yet. This place is deserted. Look at those old mud huts, they are half destroyed by the rains.” Terry drew her sister with her as she peered into every hut as she passed.
“Look at those huts ahead. They’re altogether different. See how they’ve twined roots and vines and twigs together. They’re like great birds' nests. I think that is a clever idea! I wonder if these houses belonged to the chief and his family?”
“Come on in and make an afternoon call.” Terry laughed as she ran toward the doorway, then sprang back in terror.
“What’s the matter, Terry? What did you see?” cried Prim, clinging to her sister’s arm.
“Somebody was in that hut. I saw a child! It was a little one!” said Terry, then suddenly she broke loose from her sister and went once more toward the hut.
“Watch out, Terry,” cried Prim. “Children are apt to scream and that will bring the whole tribe down upon us.”
At that moment Terry burst into a happy laugh, a little face was peering around the side of the opening. A curious, wise little face that was wrinkled and hairy.