All this could but have one ending--a fight.
Benee saw one savage stabbed to the heart, and then the orgie became a fierce battle.
Now was Benee's time to escape.
Yet well he knew how acute the power of hearing is among the Bolivian savages. One strange noise, even the crackle of a bush, and the fighting would end in a hunt, and he would undoubtedly lose his life.
But he wriggled and crawled like a snake in the grass until twenty yards away, and now he moved cautiously, slowly off.
Soon the glare of the fire among the high trees was seen no more, and the yelling and cries were far behind and getting more and more indistinct every minute.
Benee refreshed himself at the stream, pulled some food from his pocket, and ate it while he ran.
He knew, however, that after fighting would come drowsiness, and that his late entertainers would soon be fast asleep, some of their heads pillowed, perhaps, on the dead body of their murdered comrade.
If there be in all this world a more demonish wretch than man is in a state of nature, or when--even among Christians--demoralized by drink, I wish to get hold of a specimen for my private menagerie. But the creature should be kept in a cage by itself. I would not insult my monkeys with the companionship of such a wretch, should it be man or beast.