eaves--they cure me," said the Indian.

"I guess that will be the best way," observed Ned. "These natives can
doctor themselves for some things, better than we can."

"Well, we'll take him home," suggested Tom. "He might keel over from
loss of blood. Come on," he added to Tal, indicating his object.

It was not far to the native's hut from the place where the jaguar had
been killed, and there Tom and Ned underwent another demonstration of
affection as soon as those of Tal's immediate family and the other
natives understood what had happened.

"I hate this business!" complained Tom, after having been knelt to by
the Indian's wife and child, who called him the "preserver" and other
endearing titles of the same kind. "Come on, let's hike back."

But Indian hospitality, especially after a life has been saved, is not
so simple as all that.

"My life--my house--all that I own is yours," said Tal in deep
gratitude. "Take everything," and he waved his hand to indicate all
the possessions in his humble hut.

"Thanks," answered Tom, "but I guess you need all you have. That's a
fine specimen of blow gun though," he added, seeing one hanging on the
wall. "I wouldn't mind having one like that. If you get well enough
to make me one, Tal, and some arrows to go with it, I'd like it for a
curiosity to hang in my room at home."

"The Senor shall have a dozen," promised the Indian.

"Look, Ned," went on Tom, pointing to the native weapon. "I never saw
one just like this. They use small arrows or darts, tipped with wild
cotton, instead of feathers."

"These the arrows," explained Tal's wife, bringing a bundle from a
corner of the one-room hut. As she held them out her husband gave a
cry of fear.

"Poisoned arrows! Poisoned arrows!" he exclaimed. "One scratch and the
senors are dead men. Put them away!"

In fear the Indian wife prepared to obey, but as she did so Tom Swift
caught sight of the package and uttered a strange cry.

"Thundering hoptoads, Ned!" he exclaimed. "The poisoned arrows are
wrapped in the piece of oiled silk that was around the professor's
missing map!"

CHAPTER XX

AN OLD LEGEND

Fascinated, Tom and Ned gazed at the package the Indian woman held out
to them. Undoubtedly it was oiled silk on the outside, and through the
almost transparent covering could be seen the small arrows, or darts,
used in the blow gun.

"Where did you get that?" asked Tom, pointing to the bundle and ga