<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER II</span> <br/>The Clutching Hand</h2>
<p>Biff was wide awake now, the drone of the plane
growing louder in his ears. With it, his suspicions of
Serbot faded. The smiling man was leaning back in his
seat, his own eyes closed as if in sleep. His hands were
folded loosely across his stomach.</p>
<p>For the first time, Biff saw why Serbot wore that
constant smile. The left side of his mouth was curled
to match the right, which was drawn upward by a
scar that began at the corner of his lips and became increasingly
jagged until it ended beside his right eyebrow.</p>
<p>Before, the large rims and green tint of the sun
glasses had helped to hide the scar; but Serbot had removed
them before he went to sleep. Now, as Biff
studied him, Serbot opened his eyes slowly and gave
Biff a sleepy glance. Realizing that Biff had observed
the scar, Serbot raised his right hand and traced it
lightly with his forefinger.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div>
<p>“A decoration I received during World War Two,”
he commented, “while I was working with the French
Underground. A Nazi spy tried to give me this—”
Graphically, Serbot swept his hand across his throat—“but
I managed to save my neck. I received this instead.”</p>
<p>Serbot clenched his left fist as though it contained
a weapon. He grabbed his left wrist with his right
hand and shook his head.</p>
<p>“If anyone attacks you with a knife or gun, don’t
try to stop him that way,” he said. “It won’t work
fast enough, as I found out. Hit his wrist like this”—Serbot
opened his right hand, bent it backward,
and drove it against his left wrist—“with the heel of
your hand, upward and outward. Try it.”</p>
<p>Biff practiced the action a few times and apparently
won Serbot’s approval, for the smiling man added:</p>
<p>“That not only will stop him, it will jar the weapon
from his grasp, enabling you to snatch it all in the
same move.”</p>
<p>Serbot demonstrated that, too. Then, noting that
some of the other passengers were beginning to look
their way, Serbot changed the subject abruptly. Leaning
toward Biff, he began pointing out more sights
from the window, as the plane followed the north
bank of the river.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div>
<p>There, the jungle had opened into widespread grazing
lands, studded by a range of low, flat-topped
mountains. Perched on one summit was a little town
that Serbot said was called Monte Alegre. Then they
were far out over the river again, and the Amazon
once more resembled a choppy, yellow sea, until the
order came to “Fasten safety belts!” The plane was
coming to a landing at Santarém on the south bank.</p>
<p>Serbot pointed out to Biff the wide Tapajóz River
which disgorged a huge flood into the turbulent Amazon,
splotching the yellow tide with long streaks of
green that looked like wash from the jungle and shone
with emerald brilliance in the noonday sun.</p>
<p>The plane roared off again, and at Obidos, eighty
miles farther upstream, the Amazon narrowed to a
single deep channel only a mile and a quarter wide
with the walls of solid forests fringing both bluffs.
Later, the river widened again, and Serbot indicated
small settlements built on high stilts in clearings back
from the bank.</p>
<p>“Those show you how high the river rises,” Serbot
told Biff. “Often it overflows its banks for many miles
on both sides. Some of the native villages are so far off
in the jungle that they can only be reached when the
Amazon is in flood.”</p>
<p>Between pointing out these interesting scenes, Serbot
talked occasionally of his war experiences, and
Biff, wide awake and alert ever since his morning nap,
was enjoying the trip more and more. He realized
that he was gaining a slight preview of the Brazilian
jungle that might prove helpful when he and his
father set out on the safari that was actually to be a
gold hunt. But he was careful to avoid answering any
direct questions that Serbot put to him.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div>
<p>It was late afternoon when Serbot indicated a great,
dark swirl of water that merged with the muddy
Amazon, marking the mouth of another huge tributary.</p>
<p>“The black water of the Rio Negro,” defined Serbot.
“From here it is only ten miles up to Manaus.”</p>
<p>Soon, the plane landed at the Manaus airport, and a
few minutes later, Biff was being welcomed by his
father, a tall, rugged man with dark hair and tanned,
square-jawed face, an older counterpart of Biff himself,
except for the boy’s blond hair. But when Biff
looked around for Mr. Serbot, hoping to introduce
him to Mr. Brewster, he found to his surprise that his
companion of the plane trip had already gone.</p>
<p>Biff and his dad talked about the family and everything
at home while they were picking up Biff’s luggage.
Mr. Brewster then led the way to a jeep that he
had parked outside the airport. Before they started
their drive into the city, Biff drew the sealed envelope
from his pocket and handed it to his father with the
comment:</p>
<p>“Dad, this is from Mr. Stannart. He told me to
guard it carefully, that it is very important.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster tore open the envelope, and Biff
watched his expression change as he read the letter.
His lips set tightly above his firm jaw, Mr. Brewster
thrust the letter into his own pocket; then he started
the jeep. Keeping a sharp eye along the rough road,
he asked:</p>
<p>“Did Mr. Stannart mention what was in the letter?”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div>
<p>“In a way, he did,” rejoined Biff. “He said we were
supposed to be going with a rubber-hunting expedition,
but that actually we would be looking for
gold—”</p>
<p>“You didn’t mention that to anyone, did you?” interrupted
Mr. Brewster anxiously. “I mean, while
you were on the plane?”</p>
<p>“I only talked to a man named Mr. Serbot,” returned
Biff, “and I even played dumb when he suggested
that you take me on a safari. He said we could
make arrangements at the Hotel Amazonas.”</p>
<p>Biff saw his father’s taut expression change to one
of relief. Mr. Brewster spurted the jeep over a watery
stretch of road with the comment:</p>
<p>“These jeeps have to be real puddle jumpers. You
never know how deep some of the mud holes are.”</p>
<p>The road improved as they swung into the city. It
was then that Mr. Brewster asked:</p>
<p>“Did Mr. Stannart tell you that there might be serious
danger, now that other persons are after the
mine?”</p>
<p>“Yes, he said you must be warned.”</p>
<p>“I suppose that is why he let you come,” mused Mr.
Brewster. “Frankly, I feel he made a mistake, and I
should send you straight home. However, if we keep
far enough ahead of trouble, it may not catch up with
us.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster ended with a reassuring smile.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div>
<p>“I’ll tell you the story from the start,” he said.
“During World War Two, two prospectors, Lew
Kirby and Joe Nara, gave up hunting gold and diamonds
down in the state of Minas Geraes and came up
the Amazon to help gather rubber. They put their
profits into food and supplies and kept going north to
look for a fabled land of gold—a land called El Dorado.”</p>
<p>“El Dorado! We learned about him in American
History!” Biff exclaimed. “It sounded crazier than
science fiction. Wasn’t El Dorado supposed to be a
king who came out of a lake with his body all covered
with gold?”</p>
<p>“Originally, yes,” returned Mr. Brewster. “Then
the story became a legend of a golden city and finally
a golden land. The Spaniards looked for it, and so did
Sir Walter Raleigh.”</p>
<p>“But nobody ever found it!”</p>
<p>“Nobody except Lew Kirby and Joe Nara.”</p>
<p>Sure that his father was joking, Biff expected a
chuckle to follow. But Mr. Brewster was very serious.</p>
<p>“They uncovered a fabulous Inca mine,” resumed
Mr. Brewster. “It was too far and too difficult to
bring the gold down the Amazon. So they worked
their way to the Orinoco River, which brought them
out through Venezuela.</p>
<p>“Kirby sent Nara back to the mine and then returned
to Minas Geraes, hoping to find someone to
help finance the claim. But people either didn’t believe
his story, or they were the sort he wouldn’t trust.
But he trusted me and I believed him—when he gave
me these.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div>
<p>Mr. Brewster brought out of his pocket some small
samples of ore that fairly glistened with gold. Biff had
learned enough regarding mining and minerals from
his dad to recognize the value of these specimens. In
an awed tone Biff asked:</p>
<p>“Is there much of this in the mine, Dad?”</p>
<p>“A whole mountain full,” replied Mr. Brewster,
“from what Lew Kirby told me—before he died.”</p>
<p>The jeep was rolling smoothly now along a boulevard
lined with fig trees, all neatly trimmed to a
mushroom shape. But the story of the fabled gold
mine interested Biff more than the sights of Manaus.</p>
<p>“Lew gave me a map,” continued Mr. Brewster,
“showing the route that he followed to reach the
headwaters of the Orinoco, though it does not give
the exact location of the mine. To learn that, we must
find Joe Nara. I hope that no one else finds him
first.”</p>
<p>“Like the persons mentioned in Mr. Stannart’s letter?”</p>
<p>“That’s right, Biff. Despite Mr. Stannart’s constant
urging, the directors of the Ajax Corporation have
been painfully slow in providing funds for our trip.
Meanwhile, Mr. Stannart says in his letter, certain
foreign interests have learned of the mine and have
moved into the picture. They may be the sort who
will stop at nothing to get that mine!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div>
<p>Before Biff could ask more questions, the jeep
pulled up beside a modest, low-built structure that
bore the sign: HOTEL JACARES. Looking about,
Biff was surprised to see that it was growing dark and
that the street lamps were already aglow.</p>
<p>“Night falls swiftly here in the tropics,” explained
Mr. Brewster, as they went through the hotel lobby
and up the stairs to the second floor. “That is why I
lost no time coming from the airport. The driving is
difficult after dark.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster unlocked the door of his room,
turned on the light, then halted in amazement. The
place was strewn with clothes from his suitcases.
Sheets had been ripped from beds and mattresses cut
open. Papers were scattered everywhere.</p>
<p>In a corner was a framed mirror hanging above a
washstand. Mr. Brewster hurried over, took down
the mirror, and laid it on a table beside a closet door.
He pried away the backing of the mirror and brought
out a sheet of paper that had been hidden there.</p>
<p>“This is what they were after!” he exclaimed. “The
one thing they couldn’t find! Kirby’s map!”</p>
<p>As Mr. Brewster spoke, the closet door was opening
slowly, but it was behind his shoulder and
he didn’t see it. From the crack slid a long, bare human
arm, and a hand reached for the prize that Mr.
Brewster flourished. Frantically, Biff shouted:</p>
<p>“Dad! Look out!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div>
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