They had not long to wait.
A figure burst into view from around a bend in the trail. Another, followed by fully twenty other savages, their gruesome faces showing surprise and bewilderment at sight of the youths.
Who were these persons—persons of a strange color? Were they enemies? Were they on the ground waiting for a chance to kill? What was that strange long thing that was beside them? What were they doing here? Had they been sent down from the sky to bring destruction to villages, or had they wandered from an unknown region in the remote beyond?
For fully ten minutes the savages were silent. Then they began chattering loudly and moved stealthily up to the boys, bows and arrows and blowguns in readiness.
Bob and Joe waited in terrible suspense, half expecting to be pierced by deadly weapons. The youths longed to move about, if only for a moment. Once Joe felt an itching along his back, and the desire to scratch was almost uncontrollable, but he finally managed to remain quiet.
An Indian that was evidently the chief felt of the boys’ bodies and limbs carefully, while his men looked on, ready to send an arrow at once if necessary. At last, after feeling the beating of the boys’ hearts, the native regained his feet and conversed with the others.
Then Bob and Joe were picked up by strong arms and carried through the jungle.
Where would they be taken? What was to be their fate? Could they gain the friendship of the savages? These questions were in the youths’ minds as they were being carried along the trail.
“Maybe they’re going to put us in boiling water,” thought Joe, and he shuddered in spite of himself. “But then,” he finally reasoned, “they probably won’t do that. After all, very few tribes are cannibalistic.”