There was a silence. For the first time the boys and Jud realized that their leader definitely expected perils other than those ever present from the wild creatures that guarded the beautiful, treacherous, mysterious forests of this southern continent.
"Are the Injuns down here dangerous?" inquired Jud, at last.
"The personal habits of some of them do not commend themselves even to the most broad-minded investigators," returned the professor, precisely.
"Such as—" questioned Jud, again.
"Well," replied the scientist, slowly, "for one thing, the wild tribes of this part of the Amazon basin invariably eat any captives they make. Then—"
"That's enough," broke in Jud. "After I've been eaten I don't care what they do next. What might be the names of these gentlemen?"
"The Mayas, I think, are the tribe we shall be most likely to meet," said Professor Ditson, reflectively. "They have no fixed homes, but wander through the forest, guiding themselves by the sun, and sleep in the tree-tops like monkeys wherever they happen to be when night comes. They hunt men, red, white, or black," he went on; "yet, if Indian traditions can be depended upon, we do not need to be afraid of them so long as we keep to the Trail."
"How's that?" inquired Will, intensely interested.
"Every tribe which refers to the Trail," the scientist informed them, "speaks of a custom called the 'Truce of the Trail,' under which travelers along that road are safe from attack."
"Does that there truce," interposed Jud, "take in white men, or is it only for redskins?"