ained the unwinking watch
of the stoic savage.

The chieftain awoke, a giant refreshed. A warrior brought him water in
a gourd; another handed him some fruits from a wallet. A call blown on
a hollow reed brought the watcher down from his eyrie. Led by the tall
warrior who had addressed his chief, the band went off deeper and
higher into the hills. They toiled along through a defile all the
afternoon, and when the sun was dipping behind the western peaks came
into a broad, cup-like valley, that was dotted with the rude stone huts
of a mountain tribe. The tall warrior went forward alone, but
presently came back and piloted the band through the straggling groups
of huts to the spot where the tribal fire was licking up a fresh supply
of fuel. A group of warriors seated by the fire gave the newcomers a
guttural greeting, and motioned them to seats on the other side of the
blazing heap. Silence was maintained until roasted meat, corn cakes,
and fermented liquor were handed round to both parties; then all
gathered on the windward side, and the palaver commenced.

The visiting chief held forth at great length. He gave a reasonably
good summary of the history of the white man along the Orinoco valley
from the first advent of the Spaniards. He spoke of their cruelties,
their lust for the yellow dust, and their belief in a golden city on
the shores of a lake that fed the head waters of the river. He
described the attack on his village, and his own subsequent captivity
and semi-slavery. He belittled the strength of his captors, and was
inclined to scoff at their thunder-and-lightning tubes. He confessed
that the flame and roar of these formidable weapons were terrifying at
first; but he had witnessed their action at close quarters, and
familiarity had bred a sort of contempt. The lightning would not
always leap forth when wanted, nor did the thunder always slay. He was
inclined to put as much faith in a well-directed arrow. The latter
might be discharged unseen; not so the fire-weapons of the white
strangers. The fire-god must be brought to their nostrils, and breathe
into them before the fire within would answer; and if a man lay on the
ground when he saw the fire he was safe from death. Finally, he urged
with savage passion that the intruders should be killed or expelled
from the land. He spoke of them as wearied and dispirited, sick with
fatigue and the sun-fever, and boldly asserted that they were an easy
pr