“Yes, what is it?”
Alex brought out his long zarabatana, or blow-gun and shot an arrow to the shore, twenty paces away, where it fluttered in the bole of a tree.
“I have used those,” Frank laughed, “but I never before heard them called bean-shooters.”
“I’m going to hunt with this,” Alex went on. “If I see a jaguar I’ll fill him so full of arrows that he’ll look like a feather bed turned wrong side out.”
“And what will he be doing all this time?” asked Jule.
“Getting out of the way!” roared Alex.
The Rambler was soon anchored, and four of the lads went ashore, leaving Case in charge of the boat. It was a beautiful afternoon, though, of course, very warm, and the boys set out with high spirits to inspect a bit of Ecuador forest which fringed a creek emptying into the Amazon.
As they proceeded through the forest Alex came to a great tree which seemed to have been “slashed,” as the knights of old “slashed” their doublets. It was almost red on the outside, and great “slashes” in the bark showed a tender green. While the boy was looking at the tree in wonder Frank came up and, catching one of the reddish strips, peeled it from the trunk as one peels a banana.
“What kind of a tree is that?” asked Alex.
“Mulatto tree.”