“They’ll never hear you. Let me show you how to shout to them,” I said.
“No-no,” warned the captain. “A great shout will frighten them. Their ears are so well trained to every sound of the river and jungle that they can hear almost every sound. A loud noise startles them.”
“Yoo-hoo,” he repeated again, in a low tone.
The Indians heard, turned their heads and studied us and then began to paddle toward us. Gradually our boats came together and I studied them eagerly. It was a strange sight to me, the first really uncivilized people I had ever seen. Before they got to us one of the men stopped paddling and called, in a low tone:
“Me-a-ree! Me-a-ree!”
“Me-a-ree!” repeated Captain Peter.
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
“It is a form of greeting, sir. It means a combination of ‘How do you do?’ and ‘We are friends.’ Always use it when you meet the native Indians.”
They talked in low mutterings but the captain seemed to be able to understand them. Later they talked in a sort of pidgin English that I could understand fairly well myself.
At first I was a bit bashful about staring at them, thinking that they would be embarrassed or consider me rude, and that it might affect their modesty. I laugh now every time I think of that. In the first place, they do not know the meaning of the word “modesty.” Not that they are immodest, but that they go about with scarcely any clothes, which seems quite all right to them. And as for embarrassing them by staring at them, they consider it an honor to be stared at, to have someone take an interest in them.