sly. "The things you fear hurt not the white
man and are no more than this to me," saying which I took up a little
white wood-ash in my hand and blew it away with my breath. "And against
other enemies I have this," I added, touching my revolver. A brave
speech, just after that araguato episode; but I did not make it without
blushing--mentally.

He shook his head, and said it was a poor weapon against some enemies;
also--truly enough--that it would procure no birds and monkeys for the
stew-pot.

Next morning my friend Kua-ko, taking his zabatana, invited me to go out
with him, and I consented with some misgivings, thinking he had overcome
his superstitious fears and, inflamed by my account of the abundance
of game in the forest, intended going there with me. The previous day's
experience had made me think that it would be better in the future to
go there alone. But I was giving the poor youth more credit than he
deserved: it was far from his intention to face the terrible unknown
again. We went in a different direction, and tramped for hours through
woods where birds were scarce and only of the smaller kinds. Then my
guide surprised me a second time by offering to teach me to use the
zabatana. This, then, was to be my reward for giving him the box! I
readily consented, and with the long weapon, awkward to carry, in my
hand, and imitating the noiseless movements and cautious, watchful
manner of my companion, I tried to imagine myself a simple Guayana
savage, with no knowledge of that artificial social state to which I had
been born, dependent on my skill and little roll of poison-darts for
a livelihood. By an effort of the will I emptied myself of my life
experience and knowledge--or as much of it as possible--and thought
only of the generations of my dead imaginary progenitors, who had ranged
these woods back to the dim forgotten years before Columbus; and if the
pleasure I had in the fancy was childish, it made the day pass quickly
enough. Kua-ko was constantly at my elbow to assist and give advice; and
many an arrow I blew from the long tube, and hit no bird. Heaven knows
what I hit, for the arrows flew away on their wide and wild career to
be seen no more, except a few which my keen-eyed comrade marked to their
destination and managed to recover. The result of our day's hunting was
a couple of birds, which Kua-ko, not I, shot, and a small opossum his
sharp eyes detected high up a tree lying coiled up on an old nest,