“Yes,” Miguel agreed. “We must close it or one of them might happen to glance in.” They pulled the thorn-covered branches together, very slowly and carefully, until the opening was completely blocked. They were now secure from discovery so long as they remained quiet. As he thought of this David also thought of the innumerable things that could happen to call attention to their hiding-place. Suppose one of them had to cough or sneeze; or what if a scorpion, tarantula or snake should creep in to dispute their quarters with them? He dared not think further along these lines. The Indians had started a fire by rubbing together two sticks until they glowed, then applying them to dry leaves and blowing the heap into a blaze. Then they piled on wood and before long the roaring flames were leaping high into the air. The carcass of the tapir had been hacked into pieces; some of the chunks of meat were now thrown upon the fire to roast. “They belong to the Parintintin tribe,” Miguel said as he watched them. “They are headhunters. They are the ones who attack the rubber camp at times. But they haven’t bothered it lately, because they were beaten badly in the last fight. But this may be a war party going there again.” “What made Dom Carlos tell Rice, then, that the Indians were killing all the men?” David asked quickly. Miguel looked confused for a moment. “He, he--meant others, not these,” he stammered. David gave him a sharp look. “Oh, I see,” he said and resumed watching the antics of the mob before him. “Here is our chance to get more arrows,” David said suddenly. Several of the savages had placed their weapons in the ground beside their place of concealment. “Do you need any more?” “No!” Miguel was horror-stricken. “Don’t touch them. They would miss them and then find us.” “Well, I won’t take any, then, but I’m going to have some fun. Wait until it’s dark,” David whispered with a chuckle. By the time night had fallen some of the meat had been charred to the desired degree and the Indians raked it out with long poles; after it had cooled somewhat they tore off strips and began to eat. So soon as one chunk was taken from the embers a new one was thrown into them. And all the time individuals were coming and going, collecting fuel or engaged in other enterprises. The scene was a weird yet fascinating one. The lithe savages, outlined against the glare of the fire; the flickering light playing on their bare skin; the dark tree-trunks; and beyond all this the inky blackness of night, made a picture never to be forgotten. It was one of those things suggested by the sombre, mysterious, silent jungle when viewed from the open reaches of a great river, but which was forever veiled to those who lacked the trepidity to penetrate into its depths.