“Only a kid!” grumbled a man who was looking over the shoulder of the one who held the light, at the same time holding Case to the earth with a heavy knee.
When the light shifted Frank saw two burly figures with thick breasts and short necks, with faces masked by great straggling beards. The men were dirty and unkempt, and their clothes were torn into tatters, probably, the boy thought, by contract with the jungle.
The lads struggled in vain. Their weapons were taken from them and then they were hustled toward the fire they had observed from the bush. It was a roaring fire, built of some gum-running wood, and the heat and smoke of it well-nigh blistered the faces of the prisoners and stifled their breath.
After being roughly searched, the captives were bundled against the bole of a great tree which stood some distance from the fire. They were so dazed at what had taken place, at the tragic change of situation, that at first they did not sense what was going on around them. Then they saw as hideous an object as they had ever set their eyes on bending so close to the fire that it seemed to them that the flesh must be cooking on his repulsive face.
One of the men gave this object a stout push in a moment and sent him whirling in the direction of the tree.
“Watch ’em, Ugly!” he ordered, and the object settled down on his haunches and glared at the prisoners until it seemed that the evil eyes must pop out of his head.
The creature who had been called “Ugly” certainly appeared to merit the name. He was of medium height, black as a negro, but with straight, black hair, which was knotted and tangled until it resembled a net complicated by nature as well as by human hands. The boys knew from the looks of the mass that it had recently been anointed with some kind of grease, and that it held an odor all its own.
But the most striking thing about the stolid face which now leered at them over the barrel of an automatic rifle which lay in the fellow’s lap was its seeming growth of horns. There were three of these, one at the fullness of the under lip, and two just above the corners of the cruel upper lip. These horns gave the fellow’s face something of the appearance of such representations of Mephisto as the boys had seen in plays.
“No, that is not the Old Nick!” Frank whispered to Case, well knowing what was in the disturbed mind of his companion in captivity, “that is a Mura Indian, ornamented according to an ancient custom of his people. He belongs to a peaceful tribe, and may not be as fierce as he looks.”
“Would he shoot if we made a break for the tall timber?”