Arthur O. Friel

“ I lay awhile thinking, and wondering how Juana had succeeded in fooling her father. But while men are men and girls are girls, there will always be ways for them to meet while older people sleep. White still lived, showing that no trouble had broken out. And now that he was going, all would be well. So I turned over and slept. The last thing I heard was White scratching.
A sudden startled curse roused me. Day had come again. White was sitting up in his hammock, staring at his hands. ”

“ As on my first visit here, I found no other men on the caño or at the port. And, as then, I let the two Maquiritares go up the hill path first, though I did not wait this time for them to announce my coming—I followed close behind. We had almost reached the paragua when one of my men saw something which I had not noticed. Pointing, he spoke to me.
“El blanco est’ aquí,” he said. “The white is here.”
He was pointing at the open shelter where White and I had slept. There, true enough, still hung a hammock. ”

“ And when I left Uaunana, White had not prepared to go.
He had paid his two men, and paid them handsomely, with the trade goods bought from me at my caño. He had asked, too, about the route used in passing over the sierra and reaching the Caura, and had promised high pay to any four men who would go with him to the first settlement near the Orinoco. But he had not yet obtained the men, and seemed to be in no hurry about getting them. It would be a tough trip, he said, and he was well satisfied to rest a few days before starting it. ”