Biff Brewster - Brazilian Gold Mine Mystery Part 11

nels that were narrow or shallow, they poled the boats through.

They were deep in the jungle when the river opened into a fair-sized lake, where Nara pulled his boat alongside of Mr. Brewster's, to check the map again.

"This is one of the lagoons that connects with the Casiquiare Ca.n.a.l," explained Nara. "Actually, the Casiquiare is an overflow from the Orinoco that reaches the headwaters of the Rio Negro, forming a link with the Amazon. But sometimes the ca.n.a.l backs up and flows the wrong way. The important thing is that it is always navigable, clear to the Orinoco."

The job now was to work from one lagoon to another, through channels that would have been shown on the missing portion of Kirby's map. Nara knew the route from memory, and fortunately he had been over it several times. But he still had trouble picking his way through a lot of lesser channels, and at rimes he called upon Mr. Brewster to check the course by compa.s.s.

"Taking a boat through a jungle," declared Nara, "is just like going for a hike in the woods. First thing you know, you're traveling in a circle. Only you don't ever really know it, because wherever you are, it always looks the same."

The more Biff thought that over, the more true it seemed. But when he discussed it with Kamuka, the Indian boy disputed the notion.

"One place is not like another," declared Kamuka.

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"I look there, and I see so many trees. I remember them like picture. You show me another place, the picture is different."

"In that case," said Biff, "I suppose you can never get lost in the jungle."

"I get lost easy," returned Kamuka. "Too easy. Any place I do not know, I am lost-maybe. But I never get lost in the same place where I was before."

Biff decided to test that out in a simple but effective way. As they chugged along, he made notes of certain spots and told Kamuka to remember them on his own. When they reached a similar place, Biff asked Kamuka to tell him the difference. Always, Kamuka came up with some slight variation that tallied with Biff's list.

When they swung into a small cove past a jutting point with an odd overhanging tree, Biff was sure that they had seen the place before. This time, Kamuka couldn't come up with enough differences in the scenery. Triumphantly, Biff was saying: "You see, Kamuka? This could be the same place where we were an hour ago, or enough like it so you can't tell the difference-"

"Except," said Kamuka, "that there was no smoke in trees, no campfire with people around, no boats coming out from sh.o.r.e-"

Biff looked up in surprise. He saw more boats, a whole batch of them, shooting out from opposite points to block off any retreat.

More than a dozen in number, those boats were filled with natives who shouted savage war cries as 144 .

they closed in on Nara's flotilla, forcing the heavier boats toward the sh.o.r.e. There was no avoiding the camp where warlike natives waited, armed with spears, for now other canoes were darting out from hiding places to complete the rapid roundup.

Rather than be boarded by the natives, Mr. Brewster ordered the boats to the sh.o.r.e. There, he and Whitman sprang out with loaded rifles. Biff and Kamuka followed, bringing their machetes. Jacome joined them, armed in the same fas.h.i.+on. Immediately, they were surrounded by a dozen silent natives, who stood ready with poised spears.

"Be careful," warned Jacome. "Do not make move. Big pot on fire is used to cook curare. Spear point poison-maybe."

Between the circling natives, Biff saw the fire and the pot that Jacome mentioned. It was a big, crude kettle, steaming over the log flames.

"I'm glad they're just cooking cterare" Biff whispered to Kamuka. "I thought maybe they were boiling some special stuff to shrink our heads."

"Maybe they do just that," returned Kamuka solemnly. "I do not like this. Not one bit, Biff."

A tall chief with a drooping feathered headdress and a plumed belt had taken charge, and was ordering Nara and the Wai Wais from their boats. Nara's Indians brought their machetes, but old Joe came entirely unarmed. He jabbered dialect at the feathered chief. Then, finding that he didn't understand, Nara let Igo and Ubi take over as interpreters.

After a brief talk, Nara turned to Mr. Brewster.

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"They are Maco Indians," stated Nara. "They were told that we intend to attack their village."

"Macus," Biff's father groaned. "I knew they would catch up with us."

"Not Macus," corrected Nara. "Macos, who live on the upper Orinoco. But they can be just as dangerous, now that they're sure we are their enemies."

"Where did they get that idea?" asked Mr. Brewster.

"From three men who stopped at their village near the Casiquiare," explained Nara, "and told them that we would come sneaking through the backwaters to the spot where we are now."

"Serbot, Pepito, and Urubu," Mr. Brewster decided grimly. "It must have been Pepito who stole the map in Manaus. They were unable to locate the mine on their portion of it, but they cut across our route and stirred up this tribe against us."

"What do we do now?" put in Whitman. "Give them presents and send them away happy?"

"They won't be happy unless they take us, too, declared Nara. "They want us to accompany them to their village, so that their king can hear our story. He will decide whether we are guilty or innocent."

"That means he will either find us guilty," observed Mr. Brewster, "or he'll put us through some ordeal where we will come out more dead than alive. Should we make a stand for it here?"

"Not a chance," returned Nara. "Those spear tips are already poisoned. That's why they're boiling water, to cook up a new brew after they've used 146 .

their spears. One false move now, and we're goners."

From the bristling appearance of the spears and the glares of the two dozen spearmen who now surrounded the party, it looked as though Nara was right. Impatient mutters were coming from the tribesmen while the feathered chief awaited a reply.

"We can't fight them," declared Mr. Brewster, "and we can't go with them. What choice does that leave us?"

"Only one," replied Nara calmly. "We must convince them that we have a right to be here, more right, in fact, than they have." He turned to Ubi and Igo and announced importantly: "Tell them who I am."

Igo and Ubi babbled in dialect with the t.i.tle "El Dorado" sprinkled through it, bringing echoing exclamations of "El Dorado" from the Maco tribesmen. At the finish, Igo spoke simply to Nara: "They say they like to see you show them."

"I'll show them!" Nara made a spreading gesture with his arms. "Tell them to clear the way to that big pot up there by the fire, and I'll show them I'm El Dorado!"

As Igo translated the statement, the Maco chief ordered his followers to clear a path, which they did. Old Joe Nara strode forward, nodding his head as though his triumph was already a.s.sured.

"I hope," said Kamuka, "that Senhor Nara can do something to help, like real El Dorado would."

"Whatever he does," added Biff fervently, "it will have to be good, if it's going to help at all!"

CHAPTER XVII.

The Man of Gold WHEN Joe Nara reached the big campfire, he extended his hands above the simmering kettle and swept them back and forth in slow, impressive fas.h.i.+on. His back was toward the half-circle of tribesmen, but now, he changed position.

First to the right, then to the left of the fire, Nara repeated his odd ritual. Finally, he stepped beyond the fire and turned to face the group through the rising steam which wavered and curled about his arms as he repeated his ceremony.

Two savage spearmen had stepped up to flank him with poised weapons, but Nara paid them no attention. Biff looked slowly around and saw that he and his father were under similar guard. So were Kamuka and Hal Whitman, as well as Jacome and the other natives. Whatever Nara might do, there would be no chance to make a run for the boats.

Now Nara was drawing his s.h.i.+rt sleeves clear up past his elbows. He looked like a wizened wizard as he 148 .

showed one bare arm and then the other, holding his upraised hands with widespread fingers. Looking toward the sun, which was almost overhead, Nara made a clutching motion with his right hand; then a downward throw toward the kettle, as though flinging blobs of sunlight into the bubbling liquid.

Then, he boldly drove his right arm shoulder deep into the kettle, keeping it there while he stirred the boiling water with his bare arm. The tribesmen began an excited babble when they realized that Nara was unharmed. It became a shout when Nara brought his hand from the kettle and raised it high, for all to see.

From fingertips to above his elbow, Nara's hand and arm glittered like burnished gold, catching the sparkle of the sunlight which he had seemingly captured to transform his flesh into that precious metal. Now the tribesmen were shouting recognition: "El Dorado! El Dorado!"

Nara apparently had turned legend into fact. To prove his power, he repeated the process with his left arm. He showed it bare and white, dipped it deep into the hissing water and brought it out all golden like his right.

The cry of "El Dorado! El Dorado!" increased as Nara stalked among the Maco tribesmen, showing them his hands and arms at close range. The warriors were awed, from their chief down to the pair of spearmen who were supposed to keep Nara a prisoner- something which they had now forgotten in their amazement.

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The Wai Wais remained silent. Igo, Ubi, and Nara's other followers had seen him perform this wonder. They took his power for granted. Now, at a word from Nara, Igo and Ubi gathered up small pebbles which they showed to the Maco tribesmen.

Nara went back to the big kettle, and there he took pebbles first from Igo, then from Ubi, promptly dipping them in the bubbling brew. As he brought out the pebbles, he held them in the sunlight, showing them to be pure gold. Nara gave the magic stones to Igo and Ubi to distribute among the Maco warriors, who crowded forward to receive the gifts.

Biff found himself practically alone beside his father. In an awed tone, Biff asked, "How did Nara work that trick, Dad?"

"He stirred the water to reduce its temperature," explained Mr. Brewster. "It had begun to boil at the top, but was still cool below. I've seen the Fiji Islanders do a similar stunt."

"But how did he turn his hands and arms all golden?"

"With some dye, probably, that he dropped into the water while he was making pa.s.ses over it."

"I still can't see how he managed to fool those natives into thinking that those colored pebbles are real gold."

"They are real gold," Biff's father stated, with a smile. "Remember all those nuggets that Nara carries? I think he has been palming them from his pockets. Every time he dips a pebble into the kettle, he lets it drop and brings out a nugget instead."

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Biff watched Nara give the dip treatment to a few more pebbles, then nodded.

"I think you're right, Dad," said Biff, "but Kara is mighty clever at it. Only why is he handing out so many nuggets?"

"To buy our freedom, son," returned Mr. Brewster. "Look. Nara is bargaining with the chief right now."

The nuggets apparently weren't enough, for the Maco chief was shaking his head emphatically. Nara promptly came up with a much bigger offer. He picked some stones the size of hen's eggs and began pa.s.sing them among the tribesmen, who nodded eagerly.

"Nara can't possibly be carrying nuggets the size of those stones," declared Mr. Brewster. "They'd weigh him down so he couldn't walk. Get ready now to run for it."

Biff pa.s.sed the word to Kamuka, who relayed it to Whitman. By then, the Maco chief had accepted the ransom offer, but wanted the big stones turned to gold. Nara went to the kettle, pretended to throw in more fistfuls of sunlight, then turned to the chief and made a beckoning gesture, as he cackled: "Come and get it!"

Headed by the chief, the tribesmen made a charge for the magic kettle, all anxious to turn their stones into gold before the pot ran out of concentrated sunlight. Nara stepped away to let them pa.s.s, then waved for Mr. Brewster and the rest to begin their own dash the opposite way.

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They raced for the boats and were clambering on board, with Nara only a few yards behind them, when the milling tribesmen noticed their flight. Still, the natives were too busy to be bothered until they found that the stones refused to turn to gold. Then they threw them down and grabbed up their spears instead, but by that time the motors were spinning and the boats were under way, with Igo hauling Nara over the side of their monteria while Ubi handled the helm.

Some of the natives started a pursuit in their canoes, but the outboards soon outdistanced them. All seemed safe and serene during the next half hour, while they followed deep though sometimes narrow channels. Then, from far in the jungle behind them, came the bom-bom-bom of a savage drum.

Nara signaled for the boats to draw together for a conference. In a worried tone, old Joe announced: "Maco drums. You can hear them for thirty or forty miles. They are telling other tribes to be on the watch for us. So be ready for trouble." He paused, then asked Mr. Brewster in a low, confidential tone, "How did you like the golden arm trick?"

"Very good," replied Mr. Brewster. "But these natives use paints themselves to color their faces and bodies, so I can't understand how you fooled them with a dye."

Biff was close enough to hear Nara's chuckle.

"I didn't use dye," Nara stated. "I used a fine powder made from dried plants, sprinkled with tiny flakes of gilt, that spreads on the water like a dust. Dip your 152.

hand in and bring it out, the stuff gathers and clings like a snug rubber glove. After it dries, you wipe it off."

Nara showed his hands, now perfectly clean; then added, "I sprinkled just about enough for myself, so those Indians didn't get any on their own hands. They THE MAN OF GOLD.

153.

still think that I alone have the golden touch, but even my being El Dorado won't help us now that they feel I robbed them."

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An hour later, the drums were still throbbing when Joe Nara pointed above the jungle to a huge, flat-topped mountain that towered like a mighty mesa above the wavy green.

"Cerro Duida," called Nara, from his boat. "One of the biggest mountains in the Parima chain, about a mile and a half high. It was a long time before anybody climbed it, because Indians are afraid to go with them, on account of the spirits they think live on top. It's kind of tied in with the El Dorado story. Anyway, Cerro Duida is close to the Orinoco River-"

Nara broke off as some canoes came scooting from the ca.n.a.l banks, filled with armed natives. Motors were opened to the full, and the flotilla again outdistanced the native dugouts. But Biff, at the bow of his father's monteria, saw new problems ahead.

"We've missed the main channel, Dad," Biff called to the stern. "It's shallow ahead, with a lot of sandbars."

Mr. Brewster cut off his motor and signaled for the other boats to do the same.

"We'd better pole our way through," he decided. "We still have time before those natives catch up with us, and we can't risk getting stranded on a sandbar."

"Watch where you push pole," Kamuka advised Biff. "Big sucuria may wrap around it."

As Kamuka pointed, Biff saw a huge anaconda lazily sunning itself on a sandbar near the ca.n.a.l bank. Beyond that were others; in fact, the area was alive THE MAN OF GOLD 155.

with the giant snakes, though none appeared to be active.

Carefully, the boats were poled through the channels without disturbing the basking boas. Biff looked back and counted a dozen of them, still in repose. Snakes as well as shallows had been avoided, when Nara's boat ran on a hidden sandbar that the others had crossed. With its heavy cargo of ore, Nara's mon-teria refused to budge.

Mr. Brewster attached lines to Nara's boat, so that the others could haul it free. He told everybody to pole at once, and his plan seemed certain of success, when Nara shrilled: "Look back there!"

Native canoes had come around the bend. Seeing the flotilla stuck among the sandbars, the tribesmen increased their paddle strokes. Nara grabbed a rifle and shouted to Mr. Brewster: "Get your boats clear! I'll fight them off!"

"Keep going!" ordered Mr. Brewster. Then, to Nara, he called: "Don't start shooting! They outnumber us ten to one, and those spears of theirs have poison tips. Once they start throwing them, we won't have a chance-"