s. They are quite handsome in their way, and strong enough to help
you about if your legs remain weak. In that case you will probably be
allowed to put your arms around them for support. I almost wish I could
get fever, too."

Tim's voice remained a growl, but his face did not look so doleful as
before.

"Grrrumph! I always seem to draw big females, and I don't like 'em.
Gimme somethin' cute like them li'l' frog dolls in Paree--sort o'
pee-teet and chick. Still, a feller's got to do the best he can. Mebbe
I'll live till you guys git back."

With which he availed himself of the prerogative of a sick man and
grinned openly at the two comely young women who stood near at hand,
awaiting any demand for services. They were not at all backward in
reciprocating, and, despite the tribal paint and their labial ornaments,
the smiles softening their faces made them not half bad to look upon.

"'O death, where is thy sting?'" laughed Knowlton. "Be careful not to
strain your heart while we're away, Tim."

"Don't worry. It's a tough old heart--been kicked round so much it's
growed a shell like a turtle. Besides, I seen wild women before I ever
come to the jungle."

Notwithstanding his apparent resignation, however, Tim erupted once more
when his comrades shouldered their packs, picked up their guns, and
spoke their thanks and good-by to Monitaya. He arose on shaky legs and
desperately offered to prove his fitness by a barehanded six-round bout
with his commanding officer. When McKay, with sympathetic eyes but gruff
tones, peremptorily squelched him he insisted on at least going to the
door to watch his comrades start the journey from which they might or
might not return. Nor did he take advantage of his chance to hug the
girls on the way.

With one arm slung over the shoulders of a wiry young warrior who
grinned proudly at the honor of being selected to help a guest of the
great chief, he followed the departing column out into the sunshine,
where the entire tribe was assembled. And when the stalwart band had
filed into the shadows of the trees and vanished he stood for a time
unseeing and gulping at something in his throat.

Straight away along a vague path beginning at the rear of the _malocas_
marched the twenty-four, the two northerners bending under the weight of
their packs, the pair of Brazilians sweeping the jungle with practiced
eyes, the score of Mayorunas striding velvet footed, resplendent in
brilliant new paint a