<h2 id="c17"><span class="small">CHAPTER XVII</span> <br/>The Man of Gold</h2>
<p>When Joe Nara reached the big campfire, he extended
his hands above the simmering kettle and swept
them back and forth in slow, impressive fashion. His
back was toward the half-circle of tribesmen, but now,
he changed position.</p>
<p>First to the right, then to the left of the fire, Nara
repeated his odd ritual. Finally, he stepped beyond the
fire and turned to face the group through the rising
steam which wavered and curled about his arms as
he repeated his ceremony.</p>
<p>Two savage spearmen had stepped up to flank him
with poised weapons, but Nara paid them no attention.
Biff looked slowly around and saw that he and
his father were under similar guard. So were Kamuka
and Hal Whitman, as well as Jacome and the other
natives. Whatever Nara might do, there would be no
chance to make a run for the boats.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div>
<p>Now Nara was drawing his shirt sleeves clear up
past his elbows. He looked like a wizened wizard as he
showed one bare arm and then the other, holding his
upraised hands with widespread fingers. Looking toward
the sun, which was almost overhead, Nara made
a clutching motion with his right hand; then a downward
throw toward the kettle, as though flinging
blobs of sunlight into the bubbling liquid.</p>
<p>Then, he boldly drove his right arm shoulder deep
into the kettle, keeping it there while he stirred the
boiling water with his bare arm. The tribesmen
began an excited babble when they realized that Nara
was unharmed. It became a shout when Nara brought
his hand from the kettle and raised it high, for all to
see.</p>
<p>From fingertips to above his elbow, Nara’s hand
and arm glittered like burnished gold, catching the
sparkle of the sunlight which he had seemingly captured
to transform his flesh into that precious metal.
Now the tribesmen were shouting recognition:</p>
<p>“El Dorado! El Dorado!”</p>
<p>Nara apparently had turned legend into fact. To
prove his power, he repeated the process with his left
arm. He showed it bare and white, dipped it deep into
the hissing water and brought it out all golden like his
right.</p>
<p>The cry of “El Dorado! El Dorado!” increased as
Nara stalked among the Maco tribesmen, showing
them his hands and arms at close range. The warriors
were awed, from their chief down to the pair of spearmen
who were supposed to keep Nara a prisoner—something
which they had now forgotten in their
amazement.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div>
<p>The Wai Wais remained silent. Igo, Ubi, and Nara’s
other followers had seen him perform this wonder.
They took his power for granted. Now, at a word
from Nara, Igo and Ubi gathered up small pebbles
which they showed to the Maco tribesmen.</p>
<p>Nara went back to the big kettle, and there he took
pebbles first from Igo, then from Ubi, promptly dipping
them in the bubbling brew. As he brought out
the pebbles, he held them in the sunlight, showing
them to be pure gold. Nara gave the magic stones to
Igo and Ubi to distribute among the Maco warriors,
who crowded forward to receive the gifts.</p>
<p>Biff found himself practically alone beside his father.
In an awed tone, Biff asked, “How did Nara work
that trick, Dad?”</p>
<p>“He stirred the water to reduce its temperature,” explained
Mr. Brewster. “It had begun to boil at the top,
but was still cool below. I’ve seen the Fiji Islanders do
a similar stunt.”</p>
<p>“But how did he turn his hands and arms all
golden?”</p>
<p>“With some dye, probably, that he dropped into the
water while he was making passes over it.”</p>
<p>“I still can’t see how he managed to fool those natives
into thinking that those colored pebbles are real
gold.”</p>
<p>“They are real gold,” Biff’s father stated, with a
smile. “Remember all those nuggets that Nara carries?
I think he has been palming them from his pockets.
Every time he dips a pebble into the kettle, he lets it
drop and brings out a nugget instead.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div>
<p>Biff watched Nara give the dip treatment to a few
more pebbles, then nodded.</p>
<p>“I think you’re right, Dad,” said Biff, “but Nara
is mighty clever at it. Only why is he handing out so
many nuggets?”</p>
<p>“To buy our freedom, son,” returned Mr. Brewster.
“Look. Nara is bargaining with the chief right now.”</p>
<p>The nuggets apparently weren’t enough, for the
Maco chief was shaking his head emphatically. Nara
promptly came up with a much bigger offer. He
picked some stones the size of hen’s eggs and began
passing them among the tribesmen, who nodded
eagerly.</p>
<p>“Nara can’t possibly be carrying nuggets the size
of those stones,” declared Mr. Brewster. “They’d
weigh him down so he couldn’t walk. Get ready now
to run for it.”</p>
<p>Biff passed the word to Kamuka, who relayed it to
Whitman. By then, the Maco chief had accepted the
ransom offer, but wanted the big stones turned to
gold. Nara went to the kettle, pretended to throw in
more fistfuls of sunlight, then turned to the chief and
made a beckoning gesture, as he cackled:</p>
<p>“Come and get it!”</p>
<p>Headed by the chief, the tribesmen made a charge
for the magic kettle, all anxious to turn their stones
into gold before the pot ran out of concentrated sunlight.
Nara stepped away to let them pass, then waved
for Mr. Brewster and the rest to begin their own dash
the opposite way.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div>
<p>They raced for the boats and were clambering on
board, with Nara only a few yards behind them, when
the milling tribesmen noticed their flight. Still, the
natives were too busy to be bothered until they found
that the stones refused to turn to gold. Then they
threw them down and grabbed up their spears instead,
but by that time the motors were spinning and the
boats were under way, with Igo hauling Nara over
the side of their <i>monteria</i> while Ubi handled the helm.</p>
<p>Some of the natives started a pursuit in their canoes,
but the outboards soon outdistanced them. All seemed
safe and serene during the next half hour, while they
followed deep though sometimes narrow channels.
Then, from far in the jungle behind them, came the
<i>bom-bom-bom</i> of a savage drum.</p>
<p>Nara signaled for the boats to draw together for a
conference. In a worried tone, old Joe announced:</p>
<p>“Maco drums. You can hear them for thirty or forty
miles. They are telling other tribes to be on the watch
for us. So be ready for trouble.” He paused, then asked
Mr. Brewster in a low, confidential tone, “How did
you like the golden arm trick?”</p>
<p>“Very good,” replied Mr. Brewster. “But these natives
use paints themselves to color their faces and
bodies, so I can’t understand how you fooled them
with a dye.”</p>
<p>Biff was close enough to hear Nara’s chuckle.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div>
<p>“I didn’t use dye,” Nara stated. “I used a fine powder
made from dried plants, sprinkled with tiny flakes
of gilt, that spreads on the water like a dust. Dip your
hand in and bring it out, the stuff gathers and clings
like a snug rubber glove. After it dries, you wipe it
off.”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/p005.jpg" alt="Canoes on the river" width-obs="500" height-obs="523" /></div>
<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div>
<p>Nara showed his hands, now perfectly clean; then
added, “I sprinkled just about enough for myself, so
those Indians didn’t get any on their own hands. They
still think that I alone have the golden touch, but even
my being El Dorado won’t help us now that they feel
I robbed them.”</p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/p06.jpg" alt="Drummers" width-obs="500" height-obs="625" /></div>
<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div>
<p>An hour later, the drums were still throbbing when
Joe Nara pointed above the jungle to a huge, flat-topped
mountain that towered like a mighty mesa
above the wavy green.</p>
<p>“Cerro Duida,” called Nara, from his boat. “One of
the biggest mountains in the Parima chain, about a mile
and a half high. It was a long time before anybody
climbed it, because Indians are afraid to go with them,
on account of the spirits they think live on top. It’s
kind of tied in with the El Dorado story. Anyway,
Cerro Duida is close to the Orinoco River—”</p>
<p>Nara broke off as some canoes came scooting from
the canal banks, filled with armed natives. Motors
were opened to the full, and the flotilla again outdistanced
the native dugouts. But Biff, at the bow of
his father’s <i>monteria</i>, saw new problems ahead.</p>
<p>“We’ve missed the main channel, Dad,” Biff called
to the stem. “It’s shallow ahead, with a lot of sandbars.”</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster cut off his motor and signaled for the
other boats to do the same.</p>
<p>“We’d better pole our way through,” he decided.
“We still have time before those natives catch up with
us, and we can’t risk getting stranded on a sandbar.”</p>
<p>“Watch where you push pole,” Kamuka advised
Biff. “Big <i>sucuria</i> may wrap around it.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div>
<p>As Kamuka pointed, Biff saw a huge anaconda
lazily sunning itself on a sandbar near the canal bank.
Beyond that were others; in fact, the area was alive
with the giant snakes, though none appeared to be
active.</p>
<p>Carefully, the boats were poled through the channels
without disturbing the basking boas. Biff looked
back and counted a dozen of them, still in repose.
Snakes as well as shallows had been avoided, when
Nara’s boat ran on a hidden sandbar that the others
had crossed. With its heavy cargo of ore, Nara’s <i>monteria</i>
refused to budge.</p>
<p>Mr. Brewster attached lines to Nara’s boat, so that
the others could haul it free. He told everybody to
pole at once, and his plan seemed certain of success,
when Nara shrilled:</p>
<p>“Look back there!”</p>
<p>Native canoes had come around the bend. Seeing
the flotilla stuck among the sandbars, the tribesmen
increased their paddle strokes. Nara grabbed a rifle
and shouted to Mr. Brewster:</p>
<p>“Get your boats clear! I’ll fight them off!”</p>
<p>“Keep going!” ordered Mr. Brewster. Then, to
Nara, he called: “Don’t start shooting! They outnumber
us ten to one, and those spears of theirs have poison
tips. Once they start throwing them, we won’t have a
chance—”</p>
<p>It was too late. Joe Nara couldn’t be stopped, once
his mind was made up. He opened fire at the canoes
when they reached the first sandbar. Two dozen warriors
rose to fling their deadly spears!</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div>
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