each bone
darkened by the fatal wurali. Frightful weapons they were--the one
designed to smash skulls and tear out brains, the other to stab and
poison at the same thrust.

Lourenco stopped talking, and the others observed that now the wild men
stood more easily, their holds on their weapons loosened.

"I have shown them, Capitao, that I can speak their tongue, and told
them we go to visit the chief Monitaya as friend," he explained. "They
tell me Monitaya has grown great since last I saw him. Another tribe
which lost its chief and subchiefs by a swift sickness has joined his
own, and he now rules two big _malocas_ together. He is a powerful
fighter, and if he is friendly to us we have a good chance of success.
Ah! here is Yuara."

The son of the subchief came through the doorway as he spoke, followed
by an older man whose facial resemblance and ornaments indicated that he
was the subchief himself. His headgear was more elaborate than that of
his men, and around his shoulders and down his chest hung a brilliant
feather dress, while a wide belt of green, blue, and black plumes
encircled his hips. Yuara himself had inserted feathers in his nose and
donned a headband of tall parrot plumes a trifle more ornate than those
worn by the ordinary fighters, and somehow the simple addition seemed to
transform him into a bigger, fiercer man. Also, his eyes now held a
smoldering light which had not been there before.

The older man, Rana, the subchief, glanced swiftly along the line of new
faces. Then his gaze returned to McKay. His mouth set and his
countenance turned hard. He spoke curtly to Yuara, who replied with one
word. After another long, unpleasant look at McKay, who stared coldly
back at him, Rana grunted a few words and re-entered the house.

Lourenco, nonplussed by the frigidity of the subchief where he had
expected gratitude or at least hospitality, glanced questioningly at
Yuara. But the young man stood mute, looking straight ahead.

"The subchief says we shall enter and see the chief. We must leave our
guns outside."

"Don't like that," muttered McKay. "That subchief looks ugly."

"But we must obey or provoke a fight, Capitao. Besides, our rifles would
be useless inside, as they would be instantly seized if we lifted them.
So let us make the best of it. But I think you can carry your pistols
with you; they are covered by the holsters, and I do not believe these
people know what they are. And since Rana spoke