"I remember you got out of the way mighty quick," said Pete, "when you heard us a-coming behind you."
"It certainly was a curious spectacle," said the Captain, "but go on with your yarn, Pete."
"The further we went into the jungle the worse it got. The mosquitoes fairly ate us alive and they wern't the only cannibals in those woods by any means. There was a tribe of man-eaters beyond the Big River and we didn't try to capture any of them. They wern't our stripe of bacon.
"We went on for six days, with the monkeys chattering over our heads all day and the mosquitoes serenading us at night. Talk about birds, there was a whole menagerie of them and their colors beat the handkerchiefs that these greasers wear around their throats and you can't get ahead of that for color.
"One night we got in range of the village we were after and there was a great pow-wow going on. There was a big fire in the circle of the grass huts and some big black bucks were doing a dance around it. Just then I saw—"
"Hold on, Pete," said the Captain in a low, gruff voice, "somebody is coming our way."