confess I cannot make it
out?" The rest of the party now got up and looked in the direction in
which we were gazing. They were greatly puzzled.

"Can the fire have been lighted by natives?" asked Arthur. "Some of the
tribes which inhabit these regions are accustomed to form their
dwellings among the trees, I have heard; if so, we must be on our guard.
It will be better, at all events, to avoid them; for though it is
possible they may prove friendly, they may resent the intrusion of
strangers into their territory, and attack us." Uncle Paul agreed with
Arthur that in all probability the fire was lighted by natives. "They
cannot, however, as yet have seen us," he remarked, "and it might be
wiser to retreat while we have time, and to try to find another
passage."

"I cannot agree with you there," observed Captain van Dunk. "We have no
reason to fear the natives, who are poor, miserable creatures; and as
they believe that white men never go without firearms, they will not
venture to attack us."

"But, captain, if they find that we have no firearms, they will know
that we are at their mercy, and may easily overwhelm us by numbers,"
observed Arthur.

"But we have our spears, bows, and arrows, and we shall cut some stout
cudgels, with which we could easily drive away such miserable savages as
they are."

"Suppose they possess the deadly blowpipe, with its little poisoned
darts, they may attack us without giving us a chance of reaching them,"
said Arthur.

"I am afraid that Arthur is right," remarked Uncle Paul. "It would be
folly to expose ourselves to danger if it can be avoided."

The discussion was still going on when we caught sight of two figures
approaching through the fast increasing gloom. Could they be the
savages of whom we were talking? I confess that I felt very
uncomfortable,--not so much for myself as for Marian and my father; and
for the first time since we reached the Orinoco I began to wish that we
were safe among civilised people. I suspect that my companions shared
my fears. No one spoke. At length our anxiety was set at rest by
hearing the voices of Kallolo and Maco. They soon joined us, bringing a
number of ripe purple plums, and some bunches of the delicious maraja,
the fruit of several species of palms, which I may as well here say
afforded an acceptable supper to all the party. We eagerly asked if
they had seen any Indians.

"We have," answered Kallolo; "but they are a long way