was shouting:

“Urubu! Ajudo! Ajudo!”

Urubu took one quick look and relayed the call for help. Serbot and Pepito came from the tent, saw what was happening, and dashed back for their guns. Biff didn’t wait to watch what followed. He grabbed Kamuka’s arm and exclaimed, “Let’s go!”

They went. Behind them, they heard a burst of gunfire. Those first shots must have wounded the anaconda or frightened it away, for the next volley whistled through the foliage as Biff and Kamuka dived into the jungle. The boys found their path and raced along it until the shooting dwindled far behind them.

Breathless, they slackened their pace to a walk and talked over what had happened. In a worried tone, Biff said:

“They must have seen us or they wouldn’t have fired after us. I hope they didn’t know who we were.”

“More likely,” observed Kamuka seriously, “I think they don’t know what we were.”

“You mean they mistook us for some jungle animals?”

“Why not? We were gone quick—pouf! Maybe we were gone quicker than sucuria.”

By “sucuria” Kamuka meant the anaconda. He was referring to the giant water boa by its more popular Brazilian name. Kamuka’s comment brought a smile from Biff.

“I wonder if they shot the anaconda,” he speculated, “or whether it managed to get away.”

“Perhaps Luiz will tell us,” rejoined Kamuka, grinning, “when he gets back to our camp.”

“If Luiz ever gets back there at all!”

The boys lost no time in getting back to camp themselves. There, they told Mr. Brewster and Mr. Whitman all that had happened.

“Serbot must have learned a lot from somebody down in Minas Geraes,” decided Mr. Brewster, “though how, I can’t quite understand. I checked everyone who had talked with Lew Kirby, and I felt sure he had confided in me alone.”

“And how did Serbot hear about Joe Nara?” queried Mr. Whitman. “There have been rumors of head-hunters and abandoned rubber plantations off in the jungle. But no talk of prospectors and gold mines—at least none that reached me.”

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