ated great excitement. The men
rushed up with spears and clubs ready to deliver the deathblow but the
girl was not inclined to give up her prisoner so easily.

"He is mine," she protested; "I found him. You shall not take him from
me. I will feed him and give him _chinca_ bark to cure his fever and
when he is well again and fat--"

"No! No! We must not wait. The prisoner might die and then we should be
cheated out of our feast."

Nechi had not thought of that.

"Tomorrow," she relented. "If he shows no signs of improvement by
tomorrow you can prepare for the feast."

Oomah opened his eyes.

"I came on a sacred mission," he faltered. "Get me the white feather so
that I may die like a hunter who has not given up the chase. With the
white feather in my hair I can take up the trail of the Black Phantom in
the other world."

The group that surrounded him hushed their chatter.

"Where is the white feather?" asked one of the older men who seemed to
be in authority.

"There where the woman found me. It must be there for I had it when
sleep overcame me."

One of the young men was sent immediately to fetch the emblem while the
girl prepared food which Oomah ate with ravenous appetite. Presently the
runner returned; in his hand was the tuft of plumes, now soiled and
frayed from hard usage.

The sight of the sacred object had a telling effect, for among the
savages of the Upper Amazon it was the one inter-tribal flag of truce
likely to be respected, provided the bearer of it could prove his right
to its possession. They stared in silence at the feverish youth as, with
great effort he told them the story of the Black Phantom and of the
heartbreaking weeks he had spent in pursuit of the elusive quarry.

"I shot the magic arrow into the night where the points of green fire
burned, and I know no more. Perhaps it was only a dream or a vision, for
my head was throbbing with fever; I do not know! I do not know!" he
ended wearily and sadly. "Therefore I am an outcast among my people; I
cannot return to them. I have no proof that the Black Phantom is dead or
that I did not fire the arrow at some picture of my reeling brain."

The leader of the Patocos turned to some of his young hunters.

"Go! Search the forest and the riverbank," he commanded. "Let nothing
escape your eyes. The words of this youth are queer. How do we know that
he speaks the truth? If there was a phantom the magic arrow could not
fail to strike it dead. A