After they had eaten the chief arose and motioned to the two to join his group of warriors. He was of such splendid build and appearance that David and Miguel could not suppress their look of admiration. The tops of their own heads scarcely reached to the level of his shoulders. Powerful muscles bulged under his brown skin. His head was round, with a not unpleasant face. His eyes were large and black and straight hair that had been cut evenly, hung in a thick mass to just below his ears. They judged that his age was but a few years above their own. “White men,” he said in an even, though deep voice, “why do you keep on coming farther and farther into my country?” The surprise of David and Miguel at hearing these words was second only to that experienced when they had discovered they were not to be attacked, for the man was addressing them in broken Portuguese they could readily understand. “We are lost,” David said when he had recovered sufficiently to speak, “and were trying to get back to our camp when you found us.” The Indian grunted, and there was a brief pause. “Then go,” he said. “Your stomachs are full.” “But,” Miguel explained, “we are still lost. We don’t know which way to go.” At this their rescuer gave them a look of contempt. “Then you can stay here,” he said, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “You saved our lives,” David said, suddenly changing the subject, “and we shall not forget that. Why did you do it? We were at your mercy.” “You still are. But we savages, as you call us, never kill an unarmed enemy except in revenge. But more than that, I respect the courage of men who dare venture on the river. I saw you start and followed you down to see what was left of you at the bottom of the fall.” David then told the chief their experiences after boarding the raft; how they had suddenly realized their danger and how, abandoning the lurching craft, they had succeeded in swimming to the rock. As the Indian listened, his eyes brightened with admiration. “The white men do not know the ways of the forest,” he said, “therefore they should keep out of it, because it belongs to us. You are lost! That proves that we belong here and you do not. We never lose our way. You come and you drive us farther and farther away from our homes and plantations into the country of other tribes who kill us unless we kill them. We fight you every step of the way and we win, too--but in the end you win through your superior weapons and greater savagery. But we do not stop fighting until the last man is dead.” “Why don’t you make friends with the white men?” David asked. He was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.