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Bomba knew at once that the animal was trying to warn him of threatening danger, and he stopped short in his tracks. “What is it, Doto?” he asked. There was another outbreak of sounds that would have been meaningless to anyone else, but which Bomba had no trouble in interpreting correctly. His face grew grave as he lis...
“I know,” he said. “The headhunters, the men with black hearts, are in the jungle. I have seen their signs this morning. I thought that I had got past them. But Doto, from the tops of the trees, can see farther than I can. Where are these men with the bloody hands?” The monkey pointed in front of them in the very direc...
But strain his ears as he might, he could detect nothing out of the ordinary. There was the usual hum of insects, the occasional howl of a monkey or shriek of a parrot. But there was nothing to indicate that, besides himself, there was any human being in that part of the jungle. He glanced at Doto with a look of inquir...
On the route he was now pursuing there was no trail, and Bomba had to hack a way through the underbrush. This involved exhausting work and made his progress slow. But most of all he dreaded it for fear that the noise he necessarily made should attract the attention of lurking foes. At times, when the brush was very thi...
Bomba’s enemies were upon him! CHAPTER II AT GRIPS WITH DEATH Like a flash, Bomba acted.
He knew that if he rose he would be offering himself as a target. At least two of his foes were near at hand. There might be more. Not fifty feet away was a fallen tree, a veritable monarch of the jungle, that he and Doto had made their way over with difficulty. Its branches and foliage spread over a large area. Turnin...
And when, a few minutes later, they were reinforced by some of their mates and rushed forward in a body to the place where Bomba had last been seen, their expected prey had vanished. Bomba had utilized those few precious minutes to the utmost. Moving noiselessly and yet rapidly, he had reached the vast mass of branches...
And now, with his heart beating rapidly but with his courage at the highest pitch, Bomba waited for the coming of his enemies. He knew that he was in desperate straits and that, if discovered, he would be doomed. But before the end came he would do his utmost to take some of his foes with him. It was characteristic of ...
In that confined space the lad’s bow and arrows were of no use to him. But he had his revolver fully loaded, and at such short range it could be trusted to do deadly execution. And as a last resort, if it came to a hand to hand fight, there was his machete, in the use of which he was a master. Before long he could hear...
At intervals there was a sound like a rattle, as though the creature had encountered some obstacle that had aroused its irritation and was taking this way of showing it. Bomba knew that sound, and his heart skipped a beat. A snake was coming toward him, the deadly jaracara, the South American rattlesnake, the slightest...
While these thoughts were racing through his mind he saw the loathsome body and the triangular head of the jaracara come into view not ten feet away. At the same moment the reptile caught sight of Bomba. It stopped short in surprise. Then its eyes snapped with malignant fury. Like a flash it threw its body into a coil ...
And while he holds that slippery throat with the clutch of desperation, as the snake twists and writhes and tries to bite, it may be well, for the benefit of those who have not read the preceding volumes of this series, to tell who Bomba was and what had been his adventures up to the time at which this story opens. Fro...
He knew comparatively nothing of the outside world. The jungle filled his whole horizon. But he knew that he was different from the natives of that region. Tugging at his heart was the knowledge that he was white, and he was possessed with a great desire to come in contact with his own people, to learn of their ways an...
From the very start his journey was beset with dangers from man and beast, flood and earthquake. He was instrumental in delivering from the power of the savages a Mrs. Parkhurst, whom he always referred to in his mind as “the woman with the golden hair.” Later he found her son, Frank, and in their joint adventures the ...
It squirmed and writhed and twisted, seeking to sink its fangs into the hands that held it. Its jaws, slavering with poison, were never more than a few inches from the boy’s flesh. If Bomba’s hands should slip from that slimy throat ever so little, his doom would be sealed. The snake knew this and redoubled its exertio...
But his hands did not slip nor did his nerve fail. Gradually the struggles of the snake grew weaker. A glaze began to steal over the horrid eyes. The grip of its body about the boy’s leg slowly relaxed. Then at last the reptile straightened out and its head hung limp. Bomba still retained his grip for another minute or...
But he had conquered, and a tingle of exultation ran through his veins. He cast a glance of disgust at the grinning head of his dead foe, and then turned his attention to the human enemies without. The struggle had been carried on in such silence that it had not attracted their attention. They were still at some distan...
He could hear the savages coming nearer and nearer. The crackling of the bushes and their guttural conversation became more distinct. Then the branches of the tree were pushed aside and a ray of light shot through! CHAPTER III IN THE NICK OF TIME
Bomba caught a glimpse of half a dozen brawny forms and brutal faces and dropped at once into the hollow so that he was wholly concealed. A pang stabbed his heart as he noted the number of his enemies. Against so many he could not hope to conquer, if it came to a fight. He might bring down one or two, possibly three, b...
But the light was dim, though strong enough to show the outline of the giant trunk. To the peering eyes of the savages, it seemed to be lying flat on the ground, and they failed to discern the hollow underneath. As far as they could see there was no one hiding there. “Not here,” grunted one of them, already weary with ...
Grumblingly the men obeyed, and Bomba could hear them coming nearer. He tightened his hold on the revolver. Suddenly there was a shriek of fright, and one of the savages jumped a foot into the air. Then he made a break for the open, shouting: “Snake! Snake!” His comrades followed, rushing with frantic, headlong haste i...
In a flash, Bomba, the jungle boy, comprehended what had happened. The intruder had stepped on the soft, yielding body of the dead serpent and had jumped to the conclusion that it was alive. Naturally, he had not waited to investigate, but had leaped out of the reach of the supposedly deadly fangs. Now he stood outside...
He could scarcely believe in his good fortune. He had steeled himself for the conflict that seemed almost inevitable and from which he had not expected to emerge alive. The coming of the snake, which had filled him with horror, had really proved a blessing. Living, it had tried to kill him. Dead, it had helped to save ...
This conclusion was confirmed when Doto dropped down from a tree, where his sharp eyes had noted all that had happened, and rubbed up against Bomba, chattering his delight. “They have gone then, Doto?” asked Bomba, as he slung his bow over his shoulder. “They are far away?” The monkey chattered an affirmative and point...
A gratified look came into the monkey’s eyes. He wanted to go along with Bomba, but the latter did not think it best. “You stay here, Doto,” he said, as he gently released his arm from the monkey’s hold. “Bomba will soon see you again.” Then, as the affectionate animal seemed a little crestfallen, the boy added: “But y...
Doto seemed to understand, and with a last pat of his paw shinned up the nearest tree. Bomba knew that he had left behind him a vigilant and faithful sentinel. A glance at the sun told the boy that it was already afternoon, and that he must hasten if he were to reach the cabin of Pipina before the shadows of night clos...
So a certain melancholy pleasure warmed his heart as he came out into the clearing and looked at the part of the smoke-blackened wall that remained standing. Without being conscious of it, tears stood in his eyes, and he vowed that he would rebuild when the headhunters should have removed their dreaded presence from th...
But “accidents,” he had come to learn, were almost daily occurrences in the jungle, and he did not abate a jot of his vigilance, his keen eyes keeping on the lookout everywhere--at the water for snags or alligators, at either shore for animal or human enemies, on the trees that overhung the stream for lurking anacondas...
But here Bomba’s questioning stopped as the thought came to him that perhaps there would be no Casson to tell him anything. The old naturalist had been so weak and frail when he had left him! His hold on life had been so slender! Perhaps the thread had already snapped. The thought was an agonizing one to Bomba, and spu...
So, despite his impatience, he rested from his paddling and let the craft drift with the current until he rounded the bend. What he saw then made him dip his paddle deep and send the canoe in frantic haste toward the shore. Before the door of the cabin crouched a huge puma, preparing for a spring through the doorway! C...
A TERRIFIC STRUGGLE At sight of the crouching brute, Bomba shouted with all his might. The beast turned at the shout, fangs bared and eyes flashing with rage, to meet the newcomer. Then, with its tail lashing its flanks, it advanced toward the river bank. At the same moment a roar came from within the cabin. And with t...
As the canoe approached the bank, Bomba fitted an arrow to his string, drew it to the head and let it go. The haste with which he shot and the motion of the boat disturbed his aim, so that it just grazed the animal’s head, inflicting a slight flesh wound, but no mortal injury. But the pain inflamed the puma’s rage, and...
With a fearful howl the beast rolled over and over for a moment, then straightened out and lay still. With scarcely a second glance at his dead adversary, Bomba leaped on the bank and started to run toward the cabin. The hut consisted of two rooms, a larger one in the front and a much smaller one in the rear. A flimsy ...
What he did see was a puma, larger than the one he had slain outside, clawing at the inner door between the two rooms and at times hurling its huge body against the door. It was a dilapidated door at the best, and would long since have yielded to the beast’s attack had it not been for some barriers placed against it on...
With a roar of rage the brute turned to meet its new enemy. With one spring it was at the door. The movement had been so lightning fast that Bomba had no time to shoot again. His only salvation lay in flight. Turning, he ran like a deer toward the river bank, hoping to regain his canoe and push out into the stream. But...
He drew his knife, determined to die fighting. That he was about to die he had no doubt. But just as he felt the hot breath of his pursuer on his neck there was a terrific snarling behind him and the impact of huge bodies. He glanced behind him and his flight suddenly halted. The two great pumas were locked in deadly c...
It was a battle of Titans, and Bomba looked on with amazement that was transformed into an expression of delight as he recognized the last comer. “Polulu!” he exclaimed. “Good Polulu! He has come to Bomba’s help.” He circled about the combatants, seeking to get in a thrust with his knife that might decide the battle in...
But it had been a terrible fight, and after Polulu had risen from the body of his dead adversary he was hardly able to move. He staggered away a few paces, and then lay down panting and exhausted. Bomba let him rest awhile, and then went up to him and caressed the great, shaggy head. “Polulu is a good friend,” he said ...
Their strange friendship was of long standing. It dated from the time when Bomba had come across the puma trapped by a tree in the jungle, that had fallen upon the animal and broken its leg. The boy of the jungle had been stirred to pity at the creature’s distress. He had released him from the weight that held him, bou...
Again there came a scream, but this time it was one of delight. There was a hurried removal of the barriers on the other side of the door, and then the old squaw came rushing out and threw her arms about Bomba’s neck, crying and laughing in the same breath. Behind her came Cody Casson, his steps slow and uncertain, loo...
“There is another puma there!” she cried. “He is bigger that the others! Quick! Let us get behind the door again.” Bomba spoke to her soothingly and with a smile. “He is not like the others,” he said. “He is Bomba’s friend. I killed one puma but he killed the other. I will bring him here, and you will see.” But Pipina,...
So Bomba had to be content with bringing out a haunch of meat and sitting beside Polulu and talking to him, while the latter munched away contentedly. Then the great beast rose, stretched himself, rubbed his head against Bomba’s hand, and departed again for his haunts in the jungle. They had a great feast that night, f...
When the meal was finished and Pipina was busy with clearing away the food that was left and performing her simple household tasks, Bomba sat down beside Casson and told the story of his journey. Casson listened, holding Bomba’s brown hand affectionately in his weak, worn one, happy beyond words to have the boy back ag...
“Don’t you remember?” asked Bomba. “You told me that if I saw him he could tell me about my father and mother.” “Father and mother,” murmured Casson, and lapsed into silence, during which he seemed to be cudgeling his poor, disordered brain to make it yield up its secrets. “He thought I was Bartow when he saw me,” went...
“Bartow!” he exclaimed. “I have heard that name.” “Is he my father?” asked Bomba eagerly. Casson tried desperately to remember. “I--I don’t know,” he said at last piteously.
Bomba’s heart sank, but he tried again. “I asked him about Laura, too,” he went on, watching Casson narrowly. “Laura, dear sweet Laura,” murmured the old man with emotion, tears coming to his eyes. “Who is she? Where is she? Oh, tell me, Casson!” Bomba begged, with all his heart in his voice.
“She is--she is--oh, why is it that I cannot remember?” exclaimed Casson in desperation. “Jojasta knew. Jojasta could have told you,” the old man went on after a pause. “But you say that he is dead.” “He is dead,” replied Bomba. “But before he died he told me that Sobrinini----” Then came a startling interruption.
CHAPTER V TERRIBLE JAWS At the mention of Sobrinini’s name Cody Casson sprang to his feet, his weakness temporarily banished, and began to dance around the room, singing in a cracked, treble voice “la, la, la!” over and over again. Not until he was exhausted did he cease his gyrations and sink quivering into his chair....
But he forebore to question until Casson ceased trembling and became once more like his customary self. Then the boy leaned toward the old man and said gently: “I was talking about Sobrinini.” Again the old man started, but did not rise. Bomba went on: “Jojasta told me to go to Sobrinini, she of the Pilati tribe beyond...
“Who is Sobrinini and why should she know?” asked Bomba. But Casson did not answer. He sat, muttering incoherently, and seemed so tired from his recent excitement that Bomba was afraid to press the matter further. So he tried to calm the old man’s agitation and a little while later assisted him into his hammock where h...
He tossed restlessly about, his mind in a tumult of unanswered questions. Why was it that Casson had betrayed such intense excitement at the mention of Sobrinini’s name? Why had he referred to her as Nini? That sounded to Bomba like a pet name, implying long acquaintance and familiarity. Why did he indulge in that wild...
He found plenty of work awaiting him when he woke in the morning. In the first place, he had to replace the door that had been so nearly shattered by the puma, so that Casson and Pipina could have better protection, if exposed to similar dangers in the future. He spent much time and labor on this, and when a stout door...
So far as he could learn, the headhunters had left that district. He hoped they would stay away a long time, preferably forever. He had not gone far before Kiki and Woowoo, the friendly parrots, fluttered from the trees and dropped one on each shoulder. A little later Doto joined him together with other monkeys, so tha...
So he turned his steps toward a large river where he knew these animals were likely to be found. For a long time he had no luck. The sun reached its zenith and dropped down toward the western sky. There were plenty of tracks, but it was mid-afternoon before he caught a glimpse of what he sought. Then, coming out from a...
The animal looked up, saw Bomba, and without an instant’s hesitation plunged into the river. Ordinarily that would have ended Bomba’s chances, for the tapir can swim for a long distance under water. His game, therefore, could easily have got beyond bowshot before it would have been compelled to come to the surface for ...
But a stern chase is a long chase, as Bomba soon found. When the tapir did come to the surface, it was a long way from where Bomba imagined it would be, and before he had come within range of it the beast had gone under again. But Bomba’s second guess proved a better one, and the next time the tapir came to the surface...
Seizing a rope that lay in the bottom of the canoe, Bomba made a noose and threw it around the head and shoulders of the tapir, securing it before it could sink. Then he tied the other end of the rope to the canoe, and set out for the shore, towing his quarry behind him. It was an arduous task, for the tapir weighed se...
It was no snag that had checked the progress of the canoe. A monster alligator, the cayman of the Amazon region, was tugging at the tapir, from which it had already torn a piece of the flank. Then, as Bomba looked, the water was broken in several places by the horrid snouts and hideous jaws of other caymen, that had sm...
Those great jaws tearing at the tapir were sure to upset the canoe. He must cut the rope. He drew his machete, sprang to the stern, and commenced to hack madly at the rope. Before he could cut through a single strand, there was a terrific jerk, the canoe turned over, and Bomba was thrown into the river. By this time th...
PURSUED BY AN ALLIGATOR Bomba was hurled headlong into the green depths of the river. This in itself would not have bothered him. He could swim like a fish and was almost as much at home in the water as on land. But a thrill of terror passed through him as he realized that not far away was a group of monsters that coul...
So instead of permitting himself to shoot up to the surface, he remained under and struck out toward the shore. For more than a minute he shot ahead at a rapid pace. And only when it seemed as though his lungs would burst did he at last rise to the surface. He shook the water from his eyes and looked behind him. He cou...
But his chase for the tapir had carried him far out into the stream and the shore seemed still a terrible distance away. He summoned up all his resolution and struck out for land, keeping himself as low in the water as possible and moving with scarcely a ripple. For a time it looked as though his hope might be realized...
A huge alligator had detached itself from the group and was making toward him at full speed. He could see the long, scaly body, the fiery, red eyes and the hideous jaws with their rows of glistening teeth. Bomba turned and swam for his life. As the lad swam he measured the distance to the shore. He knew that the alliga...
But his heart sank as he noted how steep the bank was at the nearest point. Had the shore been shelving, he might have been able to find a footing when the water grew shallower and rush up on land before the cayman could reach him. But the bank was three or four feet high and ran straight up and down. He would have to ...
One last glance Bomba cast behind. The cayman had made up much of the distance between them and was now fearfully close. A minute more perhaps and then---- Bomba cast one farewell look at the sky and felt for his knife. But as he looked upward, something brushed across his face. It was the branch of a tree that hung fa...
But those awful jaws missed the boy by a hair’s breadth. The speed at which the brute was going carried it several yards farther before it could turn. And by that time, spurred on by dreadful necessity, Bomba had climbed farther up on the heavy bough and was out of reach. The rage of the baffled man-eater was fearful t...
For the alligator is a land as well as a water animal, and though its prey had baffled it for a while, it knew that the boy, soon or late, would have to descend the tree. And when Bomba should slide down the trunk to the ground, his enemy meant to clamber up the bank and be waiting at the foot of the tree to receive hi...
He knew that about the only vulnerable part of the alligator was the eye. An arrow striking anywhere else would simply rebound from the tough hide without inflicting any material damage. It was some time before Bomba could get a good view of his target. The cayman kept swimming about with its head half submerged in the...
There was an awful bellow and a tremendous thrashing about for a few moments. Then the alligator slowly sank below the surface of the river. Bomba waited for some time, but the body did not reappear. The arrow had done its work well. Once fully convinced of this, the boy made his way to the trunk of the tree and slid d...
The sun was near its setting now, and his hunting would have to be deferred to the next day. Soon the four-footed hunters of the jungle would themselves be abroad, and it behooved Bomba to make himself safe for the night. Ordinarily he would have collected brush and made a fire, trusting to the flames to keep wild beas...
He found it in the center of a dense thorn thicket, into which he penetrated slowly and with great care, pushing the thorny stalks aside so that they would not wound his flesh. Once in the center, he beat down enough of the brush to serve him as a bed, and covered it with bunches of soft moss that he had gathered near ...
But his real place was not there. He was white. He was heir to all the instincts, traditions and ambitions of his race. He belonged elsewhere. Then why was he here? Why were his aspirations and longings doomed to be thwarted? What had he done to deserve such a fate? His thoughts turned to Frank Parkhurst. What a differ...
In this melancholy mood he at last fell asleep. But his depression vanished when he awoke the next morning. His sleep had been undisturbed. Weariness had departed. The current of his blood ran swiftly through his young veins. The skies were azure. It was good to be alive. And his optimism was increased by the good fort...
All this time he had kept a sharp lookout for the headhunters. But during the whole of the hunting trip he had come across no signs of them. He would have felt easier in his mind, however, if he had occasionally met some of the friendly natives that ordinarily dwelt in that region. They, too, were conspicuous by their ...
He tried to throw off his depression, assuring himself that it was due to weariness. Soon he would reach the cabin, be once again with Casson and Pipina, and all would be well. So he communed with himself, though not with much conviction. The journey back to Pipina’s hut was made in rapid time, the jungle boy being spu...
“Bomba was a fool,” he told himself, as he hurried forward. He gave the loud halloo with which he was accustomed to announce his coming. Usually this brought either Casson or Pipina to the door at once. This time his call evoked no answer. No figure appeared at the doorway, nor could he hear any stirring within. He cal...
His uneasiness returning at this unusual circumstance, he hastily ran up to the hut. The door stood open and a hurried glance into the outer room showed that it was empty. He rushed in and examined the farther room. No one was there. “Casson!” he called in a frenzy of anxiety. “Casson! Pipina! Where are you?”
His only answer was the echo of his voice. Casson was gone! Pipina was gone! CHAPTER VII CARRIED INTO CAPTIVITY
For a moment Bomba stood stupefied with dread. Then he ran out into the open. He beat the bushes about the hut. He dashed down to the edge of the ygapo, his quick eye scanning the expanse for some sign of the passing of Casson and Pipina. Nothing anywhere. No footprints, no trampling of the bushes, no clue to guide him...
Yet Casson was gone. Pipina was gone. Bomba retraced his steps to the hut, his mind in a ferment of bewilderment and grief. Indians! Only Indians could traverse the jungle with the silence and stealth of ghosts, leaving no trace behind. “Nascanora!” The word hissed between the boy’s clenched teeth. “This is your work! ...
The boy reëntered the empty hut with a sharp pain stabbing at his heart. He would search the cabin more minutely now for some sign, some clue, to the whereabouts of the absent ones. And if he could not find it there, he would call into play all his skill in woodcraft to find and follow their trail. For trail there must...
For this was what he read: “_Nascanora is taking away Casson, Pipina, Hondura to camp near Giant Cataract. Come. Help._” So the headhunters had achieved their end at last! They had captured the helpless old man whom their superstition had led them to regard as a Man of Evil, a magician whose spells had brought blight o...
Bomba’s rage was terrific, and it would have fared ill with the savage chief if at that moment he had come within reach of the boy’s knife. The boy read the scrawl again. So they had taken Hondura too, the friendly chief of the Araos tribe, the father of the pretty little girl, Pirah, who had once saved Bomba’s life! W...
When his first fury had exhausted itself, Bomba left the writing on the wall and sat down on the threshold of the hut, the better to think out a course of action. “Near the Giant Cataract” said that rude scrawl penciled by poor Casson, when the attention of his captors was momentarily diverted. Bomba had no clear idea ...
No matter how much they wanted to hurry, no large party could proceed very fast, encumbered as they were with prisoners and probably laden with spoils. Bomba could cover as much ground in one day as they could in two or possibly in three. So he had little doubt of his ability to overtake them before they could get very...
Like a hound when trying to pick up a trail, he described a long circle, scanning the ground narrowly for every sign that might indicate the direction in which the party had gone. For a long time his search was unsuccessful. At last his eyes brightened, for they rested on a little strip of cloth fluttering on a thorn b...
The bits of cloth also told the jungle boy another story. The fact that they had been torn off at all showed that the savages had been hurrying their captives along at great speed, and so roughly that they took no care to avoid the thorn bushes that tore the clothes and probably the skin. Bomba’s heart burned within hi...
Still he continued on his way. Whether his pursuer were beast or human he could not tell. But the jungle lad knew that, whether beast or human, the surest way to provoke attack was to betray a knowledge of his danger. To keep on would be at least to delay attack and perhaps derange the plans of his pursuer. But when th...
Then something shaped itself, vague and dim behind a thicket. Like a beast at bay, Bomba crouched, pulled his bow from his shoulder and plucked an arrow from his pouch. Before he could fit the arrow to the string a hideous chorus of shouts rent the air, and like magic the jungle was filled with men, men with the feroci...
“Hondura?” grunted one of them. “Where is he?” A light dawned upon Bomba. These were braves of the Araos tribe seeking their leader. They blamed him, Bomba, for the disappearance of their chief--Bomba, who at that very moment was on his way to rescue that chief from captivity. “Let me up and I will tell you,” he said, ...
Bomba did so, and Lodo advanced toward him, knife in hand, his gaze lowering. “Where is Hondura, our chief?” he demanded. “You hide him.” “The bad chief, Nascanora, take good chief, Hondura, prisoner,” Bomba replied, his brown eyes holding the little, shifting ones of Lodo with great earnestness. “He take, too, my frie...
“But you fool us, Bomba,” threatened Lodo with a suggestive twist of his knife, “and I cut out your heart--so!” CHAPTER VIII THE MAN WITH THE SPLIT NOSE Bomba raged within himself at this enforced delay in his journey. But resistance against such odds would be nothing less than suicide.
And apprehension was in his heart as he moved along with his captors. He was by no means sure that he would be able to prove to the natives that he spoke the truth concerning their chief. After all, the only proof he had was that writing on the wall, and if they thought that he was trying to deceive them they might reg...
Lodo could make nothing of it, and looked from the writing back to Bomba with a fierce scowl and a tightened grasp upon his knife. “You read,” he said, and the cruel point of the knife pricked Bomba’s bare shoulder and brought a tiny trickle of blood. “No fool Lodo.” Bomba read the words twice under Lodo’s direction, a...
Still Bomba did not flinch, giving the sullen Indian look for look without a sign of fear. “You lie!” again shouted Lodo, working himself into a frenzy of fury. “Braves see Hondura near the hut of Casson, the white medicine man. Hondura not come back to his people. Bomba hide Hondura. Bomba must die!” His knife was upr...
Grico was a native of tremendous physical strength. He had for a while lived in one of the towns on the coast, and as a boy had been taken under the care of an English missionary school. Here he had been taught the rudiments of education. But the call of his jungle blood had proved too strong to be resisted, and he had...
“_Nascanora is taking away Casson, Pipina, Hondura to camp near Giant Cataract. Come. Help._” Then he turned to the Indians, his one eye gleaming at them in a contemptuous manner. “Bomba speaks truth,” he said. “Those are the words he said, and that is the writing on the wall. Take the point of your knife away, Lodo. T...
Once their enmity was turned from him, the Indians became as friendly and pleasant as they had been savage a few moments before. One of them found a bit of native cloth in the hut and bound it about the wound in Bomba’s shoulder. Then they squatted outside the hut to hold a council and decide upon plans for the rescue ...
He told them of the previous visits of the headhunters to Casson’s cabin, how he had beaten off their attacks, how he had wounded Nascanora himself, how he had captured Ruspak, their medicine man, and how in the jungle he had overcome the braves of Tocarora. “I think there are two bands of headhunters,” he said, when a...
But Bomba knew that this would take time and be the subject of innumerable powwows before the avengers would get fairly started. And with the knowledge he had of Casson’s danger he was in no mood for delay. He must go on. They could follow later. He knew the risks he ran in going alone. He would be only one against the...

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