rose and fell in a measured way.

"Look, Kua-ko," I said in a whisper, "there is a bird for you to kill."

But he only shook his head, still watchful.

"Give me the blow-pipe, then," I said, with a laugh, putting out my hand
to take it. But he refused to let me take it, knowing that it would only
be an arrow wasted if I attempted to shoot anything.

As I persisted in telling him to kill the bird, he at last bent his lips
near me and said in a half-whisper, as if fearful of being overheard: "I
can kill nothing here. If I shot at the bird, the daughter of the Didi
would catch the dart in her hand and throw it back and hit me here,"
touching his breast just over his heart.

I laughed again, saying to myself, with some amusement, that Kua-ko was
not such a bad companion after all--that he was not without imagination.
But in spite of my laughter his words roused my interest and suggested
the idea that the voice I was curious about had been heard by the
Indians and was as great a mystery to them as to me; since, not being
like that of any creature known to them, it would be attributed by their
superstitious minds to one of the numerous demons or semi-human monsters
inhabiting every forest, stream, and mountain; and fear of it would
drive them from the wood. In this case, judging from my companion's
words, they had varied the form of the superstition somewhat, inventing
a daughter of a water-spirit to be afraid of. My thought was that if
their keen, practiced eyes had never been able to see this flitting
woodland creature with a musical soul, it was not likely that I would
succeed in my quest.

I began to question him, but he now appeared less inclined to talk and
more frightened than ever, and each time I attempted to speak he imposed
silence, with a quick gesture of alarm, while he continued to stare
about him with dilated eyes. All at once he sprang to his feet as
if overcome with terror and started running at full speed. His fear
infected me, and, springing up, I followed as fast as I could, but he
was far ahead of me, running for dear life; and before I had gone forty
yards my feet were caught in a creeper trailing along the surface, and I
measured my length on the ground. The sudden, violent shock almost took
away my senses for a moment, but when I jumped up and stared round to
see no unspeakable monster--Curupita or other--rushing on to slay and
devour me there and then, I began to feel ashamed of my cowardice; and