Travelling very much at their ease, the Prince and his companions followed this road for about fifteen miles before stopping for the midday meal and siesta. In consequence of the great heat they usually all rested from twelve till four; but to-day Count Oriolla and Captain Bromberg preferred to walk on for a mile or two as soon as they had lunched, in order to see what possibilities the neighbourhood offered in the way of game, fruit, and water. A few hundred yards from the camp they came to a veritable cherry orchard on a small scale; a grove of tall trees laden with small black fruit and having leaves and bark precisely the same as those of the European cherry. The fruit was the "jabuticabas," or Brazilian cherry; the two young men tasted some "windfalls," and these were so promising that the Count urged his more active companion to climb one of the trunks and shake down a good supply. For a sailor this was no difficulty; and Captain Bromberg was soon in the fork of a tree, rocking the branches vigorously, while the Count stowed the falling fruit in a small game-bag. Presently the Captain happened to peer down from his perch, and then, to his bewilderment, he saw that a third person had appeared on the scene. The Count was still on his knees, diligently filling the bag; while, unperceived by him, a tall Indian, armed with a spear, bow, and quiver, stood near him as motionless as a statue. Bromberg at once swung himself down and dropped beside his friend, so suddenly that the Count sprang up in alarm, though the Indian betrayed no shadow of surprise. The Count, turning his head and finding himself face to face with a Carib, started back with a cry of astonishment and fumbled in his pocket for the pistol which he usually carried there; but the stranger's demeanour was so mild and amiable, that he at once felt ashamed of himself. "Why don't you speak to him in Spanish?" said Bromberg; "no doubt he would understand." The Count, himself half Spanish, spoke civilly to the Carib, who at once answered in that tongue, at the same time turning his spear-point to the ground in token of peace. He pointed to the end of the grove of fruit trees. "That is where I live, gentlemen"; and for the first time they noticed a thin column of smoke rising from a hut or tent a couple of hundred yards away. "Is there an Indian village here then?" asked the Count. "Nearly a mile farther on; I and my parents keep an inn outside it." The outlook seemed promising, and the Count at once asked as to the likelihood of their finding suitable guides. "You want to go by way of Santaren? Yes; any of us will guide you as far as there, or even to the Madeira River. But we should not choose to go any farther, for we are ill friends with the Guaranis just now; nor would you do well to venture far up the Amazon; between Indians, reptiles, and _tigres_, your lives would never be safe."