o
assimilate a few lead pills before chewing us up. Rod, we'll have our
work cut out standing guard to-night. I wouldn't put it past that lying
old Umanuh to try rubbing us out before morning."

"Nor I," concurred McKay. "Only question is whether he dares take a
chance against our guns and against the likelihood that Monitaya will
send other men to investigate our disappearance. Better keep well out of
sight."

As he spoke the last light of day vanished. Stars and a quarter moon
leaped out in the swiftly darkening sky. The small fire of the
expedition threw dim shadows against the poles of the night shelters.
Lights glimmered in the Red Bone huts, and other lights began to streak
across the gloom--the bright little lanterns of fireflies coasting along
the stream. But at the point where the Red Bone night guard lurked no
light shone. They had built no fire, and now they were almost invisible
in the faint moonshine--sinister shadows which even now might be
meditating murder or worse.

Lourenco lounged over to Tucu, who was watching those shadows with a
fixed cat stare, and informed him that until morning a man with a gun
would be always on guard while the rest slept. The Indian grunted
approval. By way of precaution against being killed by his own men, the
Brazilian added the information that later on he and his comrade would
leave the camp and go upstream for a time. At this Tucu's eyes dwelt on
his, veered to the lights of the town, and returned. In them was a
plain, though unspoken, question. The bushman ignored it and strolled
back to his _tambo_.

The moon sailed higher. The animal uproar of early night began to
diminish. The fire, almost buried under slow-burning wood whose acrid
smoke alleviated the insect pests, smoldered dull red. McKay and
Knowlton drew lots for the first sleep, the captain winning and promptly
getting under his net. In the Mayoruna shelter all was dark and silent,
each man sleeping lightly with one hand on a weapon. The two Brazilians
also were out of sight in their hut.

Up and down, a barely distinguishable figure, Knowlton passed slowly
with holster unbuttoned and rifle cocked, eyes turning periodically to
the Red Bone outpost and ears intent to pick any unusual sound out of
the night noise. Gradually the small lights of the town faded out. To
all appearance, sleep had whelmed it for the night. The watchers on the
farther shore stirred a little at times, but the blot they made in the