H. A. Lamb

“ I felt it, and I believe Jack Stuart did as well.
Johnny Gorai was staring at her, making a queer clucking noise which drew my attention. I saw that his gaze had shifted and was searching the surrounding treetops. His wrinkled face told a plain story. He was not, it seemed, surprised at seeing the girl. Rather, he was looking around for possible companions. That is the impression I received, and it proved I was not much mistaken.
Life is curious in many ways. ”

“ It was a woman seated on a breadfruit tree, watching us curiously.
I slipped off my pack, and stared back at her. She was not a woman of the coast tribes of Santo. And she did not look like a white woman, although she was dressed in a slip of calico, bound around the waist with woven grass. She was barefoot. Her hair was gathered in coils secured by a kind of tenril vine, with flowers on it, and it was the color of sun-touched bronze. ”

“ Certain races of stunted people exist in the interior of Africa, and as a rule they are tree-climbing men. They are accustomed to make their way about in the trees.”
I admit this remark caused me to glance up at the network of branches overhead. Beyond a lazy and beautiful tree snake or two I, of course, saw nothing.
“The dwarfs of Santo,” continued Stuart, “have no village. I think we will find that they live in caves underground, or in trees. That means they must be a very shy people—probably harmless.” ”