the traps. When they find
this man they will cut off his hands and feet with their wooden knives
and throw the rest aside to be eaten by the animals. He has not been
dead long or he would have been devoured by some wild thing before we
came. The trail travelers will set the trap again and take the hands and
feet to the _malocas_, where they will be washed, cooked, and eaten."

The faces of the Americans contracted slightly. A simultaneous thought
made them flash startled glances at each other.

"Tim--" Knowlton said, and paused. Lourenco smiled.

"No, Senhor Tim will not be expected to eat man meat," he assured them.
"I thought of that before we left--one never knows when these traps will
yield human flesh. So, without letting Monitaya know why I spoke, I told
him you North Americans believed the flesh of an enemy to be poisonous,
and that you would not eat it on that account. Monitaya will remember
that."

"By George! you have a head on your shoulders, old scout! I was worried
for a minute. If they offered Tim a broiled foot or a stewed hand he'd
go for his gun."

Briefly Tucu spoke. The Mayorunas separated and went into the forest,
seeking any sign of other enemies.

"Queer that this chap should come here alone--if he was alone," added
Knowlton. "Suppose he's the fellow that's been swiping stray girls? Or a
spy?"

"Neither, I think, senhor. The girls were captured by more than one man,
and I doubt if this one had been here before. Probably he was one of
those lone prowlers of the bush whose hand is against every man. He is a
half-breed, as you see, and came, perhaps, to steal a girl for himself.
The jungle is well rid of him."

"Uh-huh. Guess you're right. Say, I'd like to see how that blowgun trap
operates. Can't understand what blows the dart when nobody is here."

"I do not know, either, senhor. Perhaps Tucu will show us."

The savage guide, after a moment's hesitation, pointed along the trail
and stalked away, the others at his heels. At a spot some fifteen yards
farther on he turned into the bush at the right, walked a few paces away
from the path, turned again sharply to the left, advanced once more, and
halted. Before them, not easy to discern in the masking brush, even
though they were looking for it, hung the long barrel of the blowgun,
lashed to a couple of small trees and pointing toward the path.

Tucu stepped to the mouthpiece of the slender tube and pointed to a
sapling, just behind and in