Nonfiction | December 01, 1990

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“My heart began to pound as we approached the village,” recalls Napoleon Chagnon, an anthropologist at Northwestern University, Illinois.  “It was hot and muggy, and my clothing was soaked with perspiration…The small, biting gnats were out in astronomical numbers, for it was the beginning of the dry season.  My face and hands were swollen from the venom of their numerous stings.  In just a few moments I was to meet my first Yanomamo, my first primitive man.”

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