In fact, the plucky New Englander half believed that with his repeating rifle he would be able to beat off any approach from the other shore.
At this moment, he was amazed to see one of the savages do an extraordinary thing.
Darting out from the wood behind him, he ran to the smouldering camp-fire seized a brand that was covered with ashes, and circled it so swiftly about his head that it was fanned into a roaring blaze.
While doing this, he stood apparently with one foot in the margin of the Xingu, and evidently with not the slightest fear of the white strangers within gun-shot.

He not only swung the brand forward several times, but reversed and spun it in the other direction, with a velocity that made it look like a solid ring of fire.
Suddenly the truth flashed upon the bewildered sentinel: _the savage was signaling to some friend or friends on the other bank_! That being the case, it followed that the friend or friends were most uncomfortably close to the camp of the white men.
And still Long failed to attach any importance to the unusual quantity of logs and driftwood that was sweeping down the Xingu in front of him..