They circled closer and closer to the tree tops, swaying with each revolution of their huge black bodies like some small army of the sky moving earthward as a single unit. There was a fascination in that continuous circling, Hal found—a rather dread fascination, and he vaguely remembered that the dead jaguar lay not fifteen feet from him.

Then when their black bodies barely skimmed the tree tops he bethought himself of his own physical condition. He knew he was getting weaker by the moment. Besides his wounded leg and infected hand, some strange fever seemed to be consuming him. Suddenly a horrible thought came to him.

Did it mean that he was destined to die in that unholy spot? Did it mean that those gruesome scavengers of the air were waiting for that moment to arrive? Something was holding them off from descending upon the hapless jaguar—was it himself?

Hal shivered and shuddered, yet he hadn’t the power to stir his body one inch. He could only lie there and stare at the black mass moving nearer and nearer, yet waiting, waiting.... But suddenly they seemed to be rushing toward him—either that or he was rushing up toward them! But no, it was neither—he himself was sinking down, down....

Strange cries pierced the air then, cries that were not uttered by bird or animal or white man. Strange painted bodies moved in the brush, moved stealthily but surely, and black, questioning eyes peered out at the singular scene of a dead jaguar and a red-haired white man lying but fifteen feet apart.

CHAPTER XVII
A GUEST OF SAVAGES

After a few more minutes’ observation, twenty-five naked savages crawled out of the brush, crept up to Hal’s prostrate body and held a noisy conference. Then they took turns feeling his feverish brow and the irregular heart beats pounding beneath his powerful chest. Suddenly two of the warriors leaned down, one taking his head and the other his feet, and in solemn procession they marched off through the brush, leaving two of their number to skin the jaguar.

Evening came before Hal was conscious of anything. When he opened his eyes he could see the glow of many campfires. A deep gloom seemed to surround him, but sitting on either side were two Indian women, old and wrinkled, watching him with blinking eyes and tightly drawn lips.

He had a bitter taste in his mouth, an herb-like taste, but he felt not so feverish. Also, when he went to raise his right hand he noticed that it was covered with a sort of claylike substance and the swelling was almost gone. His leg, too, felt easier and he saw, as he raised it into the firelight, that it was covered with the same substance that was on his hand.

Gradually he could pick out a row of pillars supporting the roof, and from each of these pillars he noticed a frail crossbar to the outer wall. Between each of these bars he saw Indians sleeping, men, women, and children. Some slept on skins or leaves and some on the bare ground. Before each of these groups a fire burned and Hal decided that each group was a family with their own distinct hearth-fire burning before their apartments. Over all was a vast roof.