Nor were monkeys and snakes the only inmates of the forest, for they had scarcely progressed a quarter of a mile beyond the spot where the snake had been encountered when a great creature like a long-legged cat, but standing over thirty inches high at the shoulder, suddenly emerged from the tangled underwood and halted abruptly, staring at the approaching strangers for a few seconds before, with an angry snarl, it bounded out of sight down the path. It was not easy to detect its colour and markings in that dim light, but its shape stood out clear and sharply denned against the brilliant sunlight streaming down into a windfall just beyond, and Dyer pronounced it to be a jaguar. Then, a little farther on, they had just sighted the glint of water between the trees some distance away on their left front, when a heavy crashing was suddenly heard among the underbush, and a moment later a creature about the size of a half-grown calf was glimpsed trotting heavily towards the water. As in the case of the jaguar, its colour could not be distinguished, but its shape was very remarkable. Dyer compared it to a pig with exceptionally thick legs and a peculiar, elongated snout; and that was about as near as he could reasonably be expected to get to it. It subsequently became known to natural historians as the tapir.
It was about a quarter of an hour afterwards that an answering cry to Dyer’s signal shout was first heard, and some five minutes later, as the two Englishmen emerged from the gloom of the forest and entered a natural clearing of about fifteen acres in extent, they were suddenly confronted by six big, stalwart blacks, who barred their further progress with threatening spears of most formidable appearance. These men seemed to be a cross between the African negro and the Indian of Central America, for they were somewhat lighter of colour and slighter of build than the negro, while their black hair hung down to their shoulders in crisp curls. They were naked, save for a skin apron girt about their loins; and by way of ornament they wore necklaces composed of the teeth and claws of animals and the beaks of birds strung upon thin strips of hide. They also all wore bits of bone thrust through the lobes of their ears.
The individual who appeared to be the leader of the party addressed the two white men in a somewhat thick, throaty tone of voice, but in language of which the Englishmen were quite ignorant, the only thing that was at all clear being that it was a question of some sort that he was propounding.
“Speak you to un, cap’n,” said Dyer. “I don’t understand their lingo, but I think most of ’em understands Spanish. Cap’n Drake could always make hisself understood.”
The six blacks gazed intently at Dyer as he spoke, apparently striving to gather some conception of the meaning of his words, and George noticed that at the mention of Drake’s name they all started, while two or three of them murmured to each other, “Drake—Drake—El Draque?” questioningly. He at once jumped to the conclusion that Drake’s name was familiar to them, and promptly acted upon the assumption.
“Yes,” he said in Spanish, “we are friends of El Draque. Do you remember him?”
“Si, señor,” answered the leader of the party eagerly, also in a mongrel kind of Spanish which George was able to comprehend without very much difficulty. “Yes, we remember El Draque, the great white chief and the enemy of our enemy the Spaniard. Is he here again?”
“No,” answered George, “I regret to say that he is not; the Great White Queen needed his services, so he could not come. But I have come in his stead to punish the Spaniards for their treachery to him last year, and I want some information concerning Nombre de Dios. Can you give it me? You are Cimarrones, are you not?”
“Si, señor, si,” answered the black; “we are Cimarrones; and perhaps our chief may be able to tell you what you wish to know about Nombre. Will you come to our village? It lies yonder.”
And, indeed, in the far corner of the clearing George could now distinguish a small village consisting of about thirty low huts huddled together in the bordering shadow of the next belt of high timber. The path from the wood zigzagged across the clearing, winding here to avoid an enormous stump, and there to pass round a fallen tree—for the Cimarrones were far too lazy to attempt what they regarded as the unnecessary labour of clearing away obstacles—but trending generally toward the conglomeration of huts in the far corner of the clearing.