Joe almost choked with laughter.
“That’s a good one on you,” he said to his chum. “It’s a wonder you didn’t go and gather flowers and offer them to the bereaved family.”
Bob grinned.
“You’d probably have asked where the corpse was,” he said. “Or maybe——”
“We can stop here for a meal,” Dr. Rander interrupted. “It is best to save our provisions as best we can, because later on we won’t be able to find any native huts.”
Inside the mud building, the three were waited upon by a huge Indian woman, whose hard face inspired no trust from the explorers. But they were glad when she spread before them a bountiful meal of potatoes, roast mutton, and a drink which the youths guessed was intoxicating.
“None of that brown liquid for me,” came from Bob, looking with suspicion at the huge clay cup that contained the beverage.
“Me either,” echoed Joe. “Too big of a risk.”
The old man, however, drank freely of the beverage and seemed pleased with its flavor. Whether he knew of its ingredients the chums did not know.
As soon as the meal was over, the three again took up the journey, keeping a sharp lookout for anything that might prove of interest.