"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. And when you find it bring back the evidence of your eyes so that the name of this man may be honored; but if you find nothing we shall know that he lied and he shall pay the penalty without delay." Not long after, the hunters filed into the forest and Oomah watched them go with yearning eyes. A whole week passed before the hunting party returned. But their hands were empty; they bore no evidence that their mission had been successful. * * * * * As for Warruk, the Jaguar, he had considered his score with Mata settled. She had been punished for the injury she had inflicted on him. But the others; they had hurled flaming brands at him and had wounded him with spears. The day would surely come when they too should pay.