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Forbidden Cargoes

Chapter 10 CAMP SMOKE

Word Count: 2344    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

nce escaped destruction. A clumsy model it was, and of such ancient design that it might well have been a present from Queen Isabe

ck off toward the hills. He had gone a short

my film," he told himse

sticky juice of a wild vine. Painstakingly he traced as well as he could the outlines of his grandfather's concessions an

e had a glorious mental picture of the light on his grandfather's face as he saw a hu

ht. "What a strange way to a

annibals, now partially Christianized and caught in the spell of white man's influence, had

will respond. They will flock to his banner. A hundred, two hundred

romising sapodilla trees. These, by the aid of their bare toes and a single strap, they would scale to a distance of thirty or forty feet. Beginning at the top, working their way round and round the trunk, they would cut in the bark a spiral groove reaching to the ground. Do

ead dough until it was thick enough to form in cakes. T

d on Caribs' backs to the nearest stream. By pit-pan to the sea,

The Central Chicle Company will take it of

seemed to catch their weird chant as they marched on the first lap

d," he told him

t. He would return to the Maya cave. Sooner or later he would go bac

id to himself, "if the pearls should still be withi

mind. Yet this did not quite satisfy him. This problem was

ture. From this promontory one might command a view of the valley below and might tr

rude map out before him, than the smoke of a score of campfi

ger. "That's Diaz. He has already begun operations on our trees. He is very bold.

, scarcely three miles distant, a s

men he knew well enough. Men in the jungle always huddle in one group. Perhaps it is fear of that unknown per

poaching on our ground?" he asked himself. "It do

the bed of a stream, he struck boldly down through the jung

creeping low beneath a growth of palms, and racing down the trunk of a massive fallen mahogany tree, he f

he river. The jungle had not yet retaken the clearing. In the midst of this cleared space, some hundreds of yards apa

be?" The boy's breath came short and quick. He took the old fie

Spaniards, some half-castes, some blacks. He could gu

mental comment.

and a helmet, stood out before the ot

the boy's spine. The distance was great. At th

hite man in the khaki suit. He was evident

and yet-" The white man threw up his arms in a gestu

stuck in the boy's throat. What was he s

atient waiting for Pant's return, the old Colonel had gotten together a band of Carib chicleros and had gone into the jungle to gather from

himself with a shudder,

ad always been waged a sort of gorilla warfare. Now here they were face to face, a hundred men on either side.

of the map," the boy told himself. "That

ir was likely to end. A mile of tangled brush lay b

, Diaz's men, suddenly began marching straight on towa

round. Yet, getting a better hold upon hims

march of those men. And never had he seen anything so heroic as the image of

; they were all but upon the silent figure. Still with arms hanging motionless, he stood there. It was a te

The marching column broke step, then came to a dead halt. As they did

of the Dons!" Pant br

Spaniard began to speak.

At once he dropped over the ledge and made his way down the perilous cliff until at l

ing palm leaves that cut his face, and the ooze of the lowlands that threatened to engulf

without experiencing anew a deep feeling of gratitude. For it was that speech which, beyond a shadow of a doubt, saved his grandfather's life. Had

le, the boy burst into the clearing, he found the aged nobleman, the last of th

of noble birth? Who can say? So intent were the men upon his words that Pant was able to slip unobserved to the

h a smile not soon to be forgotten

. There will be no fighting, no fight, do

own the line. The loyal C

th a bow of his venerable head, Pa

He repeated the words in

aniard bowe

e would be no fight. He, Diaz, might gather all the chicle he chose to in that valley. One thing he must remember, however; the real owner of the

y pound of chicle you gather on our territory must be paid to us

to their own narrow boundaries. Yet Diaz was not through contesting the rights of an American to gath

were on the side of Pant and his recently discovered grandfather, there came a perfect delu

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