the white man and are no more than this to me," saying which I
took up a little white wood-ash in my hand and blew it away with
my breath. "And against other enemies I have this," I added,
touching my revolver. A brave speech, just after that araguato
episode; but I did not make it without blushing--mentally.

He shook his head, and said it was a poor weapon against some
enemies; also--truly enough--that it would procure no birds and
monkeys for the stew-pot.

Next morning my friend Kua-ko, taking his zabatana, invited me to
go out with him, and I consented with some misgivings, thinking
he had overcome his superstitious fears and, inflamed by my
account of the abundance of game in the forest, intended going
there with me. The previous day's experience had made me think
that it would be better in the future to go there alone. But I
was giving the poor youth more credit than he deserved: it was
far from his intention to face the terrible unknown again. We
went in a different direction, and tramped for hours through
woods where birds were scarce and only of the smaller kinds.
Then my guide surprised me a second time by offering to teach me
to use the zabatana. This, then, was to be my reward for giving
him the box! I readily consented, and with the long weapon,
awkward to carry, in my hand, and imitating the noiseless
movements and cautious, watchful manner of my companion, I tried
to imagine myself a simple Guayana savage, with no knowledge of
that artificial social state to which I had been born, dependent
on my skill and little roll of poison-darts for a livelihood. By
an effort of the will I emptied myself of my life experience and
knowledge--or as much of it as possible--and thought only of the