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But though they helped him willingly to carry the canoe to the portion of the river where it would be safe to launch it, they seemed so terrified when Bomba spoke of his eagerness to reach Snake Island that the lad stared at them with amazement. “You are afraid to go?” he asked. Poor Ashati and Neram flinched before hi...
Bomba pondered for a while, staring at his companions. He had not their superstition, but he could put himself in their places and understand their feelings. “You have not the reason to seek out Sobrinini that I have,” he conceded. “Perhaps that is what makes me blind to dangers that you see. Bomba will go alone. You s...
They dropped the canoe into the water, and almost before Bomba had time to get into it the current caught the frail bark and sent it dancing out upon the swirling waters like a feather caught in the wind. The jungle boy needed all his skill to keep the tossing craft on an even keel and set a straight course down the ri...
Bomba had need of all his strength. Putting all his force upon the paddle, he grazed the murderous rocks by the fraction of an inch, and slid lightly, gently into a stretch of calmer water. The most dangerous part of his water journey was now over. All he had to do now was to avoid the rocks that at places pushed their...
This was more tedious work than his progress downstream had been, but far less perilous. Bomba paddled with a will, his heart beating high with hope as he thought that every stroke was bringing him nearer to Sobrinini and the secret whose answer he was so eager to know. If he shared to some extent the fears that had ta...
Bomba hardly thought so. The man had spoken under the fear of death, if he spoke falsely. He knew how indefinite was the native idea of distance. He had heard Casson say in the old days that when a caboclo said a place was “not far” he might mean just beyond a bend of the road or twenty miles away. Bomba’s first uneasi...
It was not one of the tribal songs of natives with which he was familiar. It was singing such as he had never heard before, and the voice of the singer was so thin and eerie and unearthly in that solitary spot that Bomba felt the hair rise on his scalp. “Sobrinini!” muttered the lad, and with a trembling hand parted th...
AMID WRITHING SERPENTS The sight that met Bomba’s eyes was horrible beyond anything he had ever seen or imagined. At the extreme end of the island, in mud that oozed about her ankles, an old withered crone was performing a weird dance, singing to herself as she did so in a language that was strange to Bomba. But that w...
It was the snakes, the ropes of slimy, hideous reptiles that the old woman wound about her arms, her waist, her neck, even her face, as she danced faster and ever faster to the strains of her weird, high-pitched song. It was then that fear entered into Bomba, a fear such as had never been felt by him when he battled wi...
At the thought, Bomba was tempted to flee from the spot. But something in him, stronger even than his fear, drew him resistlessly toward that weird figure on the river bank. He worked the canoe in as far toward the island as he dared and wedged it tightly among the rushes, trusting that they would hold it for him until...
The sound startled Sobrinini. The weird song died on her withered lips and she stood staring. The tropic night had fallen now, but a full moon had risen, and by the light of it Bomba could be seen as he got to his feet and gained the bank. At sight of him, a shrill yell pealed from the lips of the old woman, which brou...
Bomba climbed out, with the gray mud plastered over him. Still shaken at the narrowness of his escape from a terrible death, the lad drew himself up beside Sobrinini. The ring of natives, male and female, closed in upon Bomba and the old witch woman as the sound died on the lips of Sobrinini. Several of the group carri...
If at that moment he could have reached his canoe by any means and left that fearful place behind him forever, he might have yielded to the temptation. But it was too late now. The ring of natives surrounded him, and even if he succeeded by a bold dash in forcing his way through them, there was little chance of escape....
Now she came close to the lad and pushed her wrinkled face in his. She raised an arm above her head as though to strike him. Bomba stood unflinching. She paused suddenly, arrested apparently by something she saw in his face. “Ah!” she cried. “Bring the torches nearer.” The command rang out in a strikingly clear voice a...
One great sullen fellow came forward and thrust his flaring torch almost in Bomba’s face. Sobrinini peered closely at the lad for a moment, and then shrank back with a piercing scream. “You!” she cried, again coming close and staring at him wildly. “How came you here? Are you a ghost, Bartow?” Into Bomba’s heart came a...
What was the meaning of this? Like an echo of the words came the memory of Jojasta’s cry as Bomba had bent above him when he was pinned beneath the fallen column. Jojasta had called him Bartow and thought he was a ghost. He took a step toward Sobrinini, who was still staring at him fearfully. “What mean you?” he cried....
The bony fingers of Sobrinini closed on Bomba’s arm. Her voice was shrill and urgent, as she said in his ear: “Come with me, Bartow. Ghost or not, come with Sobrinini.” As in a nightmare, his mind in a tumult of conflicting emotions, Bomba allowed himself to be led away. They passed through dank, long grass that sprang...
“Be not afraid of the snakes. They are my pets and will not harm anyone that is with Sobrinini,” crooned the old crone at his side. She knew her way well, for she moved along the winding trail without ever looking down, keeping her fascinated gaze on Bomba’s face. Twice Bomba started to ask her what she meant by callin...
She went on, muttering to herself, until at last they came to a large wooden building. A flickering light from its gaping windows threw grotesque shadows upon the ground. Bomba felt a dread of entering the place. Like the wild things of the jungle, he felt safer in the open. But Sobrinini’s hand was upon his arm, and s...
Rows of crude chairs stood upon the uneven wooden floor, and above these, halfway to the patched and leaking roof, a tiny balcony had been constructed. At either end of this was a small compartment with rounded front, meant to represent an opera box, though this of course Bomba could not know. At the extreme front of t...
“Come closer, Bartow. Come closer, dear Bartow! Do!” she urged, in a voice at first soft and coaxing, but that ended in a shrill cackle. “I will give you a good seat, Bartow--the best seat in the house--in the first row center. You can hear me better there than from a box. Come!” she cried, as he hesitated, her simperi...
He did not know that that voice, when in its prime, had thrilled great audiences that included emperors and kings and had given the singer a reputation as wide as the civilized world. Suddenly Sobrinini paused, and fixing Bomba with a strange intent gaze, sang in a voice that had magically lost most of its raucous qual...
“Tell me!” he cried imploringly. “Tell me, Sobrinini, was that my mother’s song?” CHAPTER XVIII THE MYSTERY DEEPENS For an instant the fierce, bright eyes of the old hag softened. Her bony fingers hovered over Bomba’s hair, as though they would have stroked it.
Then she threw back her head and laughed, a harsh, cackling laugh that caused Bomba to wince and shrink back as from the sharp thrust of a knife. “Eh, Bartow, you would have a joke with Sobrinini, my fine one,” croaked the old crone, wagging her finger in Bomba’s face and leering at him in a way she meant to be facetio...
But when Bomba would have questioned her further, she pushed him away from her and began to sing again. “La la la! la la la!” she sang. It was the gay and vibrant melody that poor Casson had tried to sing. Bomba could do nothing but stand in bewildered silence and watch the old woman as she danced and sang, whirling ab...
Confusedly, he tried to think of the things she had said to him, but beneath the wild spell of that performance he could reason nothing out, and could only stare dazedly at this wreck of what had once been a great genius. What would happen to him, Bomba wondered, when the woman tired of dancing and perhaps found out th...
Bomba felt that he must keep her in good humor with him if he were to gain that information about himself for which he had risked so much. He had already learned something--or guessed something. Perhaps he could learn more. “I like your dance,” he told her gravely. “But I like best the song that Bartow’s wife sang when...
But Sobrinini drew back from him, quick suspicion glinting in her eyes. “No, no! Not now, Bartow, not now! It is another joke that you play on Sobrinini. No, no! To-night you will sleep here and to-morrow I will pay back your jokes with some of my own. Come! I will show you where you are to sleep.” So saying, and mumbl...
As though by magic, a figure appeared out of the darkness before them. “A torch!” croaked Sobrinini. “A torch to drive the shadows back into the night. Bring a torch. Make haste.” The figure disappeared and in a few seconds returned with a light. The features of the slave seemed savage and sinister in the flickering il...
Instantly the figure vanished again, and Bomba looked about him apprehensively. For a moment he had the fantastic notion that the shadows all about him were filled with ghostly figures that appeared and disappeared by magic and made no noise. But Sobrinini stalked before him, flaring torch in hand. Bomba followed her i...
In all his wild life in the jungle, he had never seen anything like that strange object in one corner of the room, raised from the floor by posts and covered with a cloth. If Bomba had been told that the strange object was a bed, he would have been no better informed than before. As far as he could remember, he had nev...
Bomba stood where she had left him, motionless. What was that strange feeling that made his heart swell within him until he could not bear the pain of it, that made him reach out wildly, beseechingly, for some vague, beautiful thing that he had never known, or only dimly remembered? What was it that suddenly made him f...
Bomba could not tell. He only knew that within him there was a growing tumult of emotions, fear, hope, doubt, and a longing so fierce that it was pain. Into the jungle lad’s upturned, pleading face the beautiful eyes in the picture looked steadily and gravely down. It was a lovely face, girlish and sweet, with soft hai...
Suddenly Bomba’s eyes were full of tears, and he heard himself crying in a voice that shook: “Mother! Mother!” With both hands upraised toward the beautiful face, Bomba slid slowly to the floor and lay there, his frame shaking with unaccustomed sobs. Softly, weirdly, tenderly, there floated to the lad, as though from a...
Long after the lullaby had died away Bomba remained there, motionless, crouched beneath the picture, one arm before his eyes. CHAPTER XIX A STARTLING INTERRUPTION Worn out by the exciting adventures and fierce emotions of the day, Bomba fell asleep. When he awoke the chill gray of early dawn was stealing in at the wind...
He was still on the floor beneath the picture. But he would not have sought the bed in any event. It represented to him something so strange that he would probably have been unable to sleep in it. The hard floor on which he now lay or the earth of the jungle or his own hammock was far more restful and sleep compelling....
Perhaps, he thought, this was the work of Sobrinini. Was she not a witch? Certainly, everything he had witnessed since his arrival at the island tended to that conclusion. The mortal fear in which her servitors stood of her would seem to indicate the possession of some supernatural power. Had she woven a spell about hi...
In the dim light of the growing dawn, Bomba came close to the beautiful pictured face on the wall and studied it wistfully. He could see love in those eyes as they looked at him. He would ask Sobrinini for that picture. Perhaps she would give it to him. He dwelt on it, until every feature was engraved on his memory. Fr...
With these thoughts in mind and forgetful of the fact that he had had nothing to eat since the afternoon of the day before, Bomba strode into the passage and found his way back to the strange room with the chairs and platform where Sobrinini had sung to him. The place looked changed to him now. It was not so weird nor ...
Slowly he emerged from the building and found himself enveloped in a swirling, gray mist. Yet the sound of the chant served him as a guide, and he went on and on, now coming closer to the singers, then seeming to draw away from them as the voices receded. At last, when he was beginning to think that Sobrinini had again...
It was like a dance of ghosts, and it was not alone the chill damp of the air that struck cold to Bomba’s heart. He felt as though he were in some other world, and that an evil one. He had never longed for the warmth and brightness of the jungle sun as he did at that moment. But as the natives danced on, as tireless ap...
She halted in her dance, and the snakes, uncoiling themselves from about her arms and neck, as though they knew that their part in the frenzied performance was over, slithered off quietly into the long marsh grass and sought their lairs. Sobrinini darted through the ring of breathless natives, and before Bomba had gues...
“Come! Come, dance with Sobrinini,” the woman said in a wheedling voice, as she untwined her shriveled arms to grasp him by the hand. “I will call back my snakes, and you shall fondle them to show you that they will not fill your veins with poison or crush your bones when Sobrinini is nigh. Come! Why do you draw back? ...
“I am no ghost!” cried Bomba. “Bones are in my body. Blood runs through my veins. See--if you prick my flesh, it bleeds.” In his eagerness to prove to the old crone that he was human and no ghostly visitor, Bomba drew forth his machete and thrust the sharp point of it into his brown, sinewy forearm. Blood welled up fro...
At Bomba’s challenge, not one of them stirred. He looked exceedingly dangerous, standing in all his splendid strength with the sunlight glinting on the red point of his upraised machete. It would not be well to try to walk through him. The puzzled expression had deepened upon the face of Sobrinini. She stood regarding ...
“Who am I? If I could give you the answer to that question, Sobrinini, I would not be here. I know nothing about myself except that I am Bomba, a boy of the jungle, and have spent my life with Cody Casson on the edge of the swamp. Casson could not tell me who I am nor who my father and my mother were. He sent me to Joj...
CHAPTER XX IN THE HANDS OF THE HEADHUNTERS There was a chorus of frightened exclamations and a wild scattering of the natives that showed the dread that Nascanora’s name inspired in all the people of that region. In a twinkling, Sobrinini and Bomba found themselves alone.
The old woman herself had grown ashen. She grasped Bomba by the hand. “Come!” she said. “I will hide you. Quick!” But even as she spoke there was a wild yell from the forest, and a horde of savages, headed by Nascanora himself, burst into the clearing. Bomba had drawn his knife, determined to sell his life dearly. Seei...
“Do not kill him--now,” he commanded. “That would be too easy. His death, when it comes, must be hard and long. And after that his head shall stand on the wigwam to show how Nascanora deals with his enemies.” Sobrinini stepped forward, her eyes glaring. “Beware what you do, Nascanora,” she warned. “Leave this boy alone...
But he was made of sterner stuff than his followers, and he had come too far to be balked of his prey. “I would have no quarrel with Sobrinini,” he said placatingly. “I do not wish to hurt her or her people. But the boy must go with me. Else I will kill all the people on this island and take their heads along for the w...
“Speak!” said the chief. “Nascanora is a great chief,” said Bomba. “He is not afraid of anyone. Is it not so?” “It is so,” replied Nascanora, rather astonished at the tribute, but swelling with pride. “Then will Nascanora fight Bomba alone?” asked the lad. “Fight him with knives?”
If a bomb had been thrown into the midst of the savages it would not have created greater surprise. They looked at each other in amazement. Was the boy mad? The most astounded of all was Nascanora himself. He could not believe his ears. To be bearded thus, he, Nascanora, in the presence of his braves and by a boy! His ...
Lithe, supple, muscular, his head held high as he flung out the concluding taunt, Bomba gazed full into the glowering eyes of the chief. He hoped that Nascanora would be goaded into accepting the challenge. The boy was a master of the machete, either thrust or thrown. If he should conquer, as he felt sure he would, his...
“It is not for a great chief like Nascanora to fight with a boy,” he blustered, seeking to cover his defeat. “He shall learn what happens to them who speak boastful words to Nascanora. Bind his hands and we will go.” The command was quickly obeyed. Sobrinini again attempted to interpose, but Bomba checked her. “Sobrini...
Bomba would have urged her to tell him then, but he was roughly hurried away, leaving Sobrinini to wring her withered hands and mutter invocations to her gods. Despite his dangerous plight, Bomba found himself in a strangely buoyant frame of mind. He still felt the exaltation that came from his triumph over Nascanora. ...
The savages were familiar with the rapids, and, evading the pitfalls of the river, rapidly neared the other shore. As they drew closer, Bomba saw the rest of Nascanora’s band camped close to the shore. In the ring they formed he could see a group of dejected figures, evidently the captives. The canoes touched the bank....
“Casson!” cried Bomba. “Bomba!” exclaimed Casson pantingly as he threw his arms about the boy’s shoulders. CHAPTER XXI THE GIANT CATARACT
The old man sobbed as he hugged the lad to his breast. Bomba’s joy at the reunion was no less, though his bound hands prevented him from returning the embrace. When at last they stood apart and looked fondly at each other, Bomba was grieved to the heart to see the ravages that the hardships and miseries of the journey ...
When their first emotion had somewhat subsided, Bomba had time to look about for the others that he knew. Many faces were strange to him, and it was evident that, from the headhunters’ point of view, their foray had been crowned with great success. They were carrying back an unusually large number of prisoners, some to...
“Is Bomba glad to see Pirah?” she asked almost happily. “Yes,” answered the boy, forbearing to add that he would far rather never have seen her at all than to see her in such a position. “Pirah saved Bomba’s life when he came to the village of the Araos, and Bomba will never forget.” “But no, Bomba, you must not be gla...
Their captors were preparing to break camp and were so busy with their packing that for the time the prisoners were left to themselves. That gave Bomba his chance to get together with Casson, Hondura and Pipina, and exchange experiences. He learned, to his relief, that they had not been treated as harshly as he had fea...
While he was talking he looked up and saw two figures approaching him. They were downcast and abject and held their faces so low on their breasts that at first he did not recognize them. But as they drew nearer, he saw that they were Ashati and Neram. “You here, too?” he said, as they squatted down beside him. “Yes, ma...
“We were waiting for you near the bank of the river,” replied Ashati, “when we heard the march of feet. We hid in the jungle, hoping that the enemy would go past and not see us. But they had with them the man you caught and who told you the way to go to the island of Sobrinini. He led them to the place where you met hi...
“Nascanora has ways of making men speak,” put in Ashati significantly. “His heart is as black as Jojasta’s was,” declared Neram, as though that summed up the total of human depravity. “He will torture us with fire and steel and then place our heads on the wigwams of his people.” “I do not think so,” said Bomba. “Sobrin...
“If Sobrinini said so, it must be true!” exclaimed Ashati, “for she is a witch.” “The greatest in all the jungle,” confirmed Neram. “She is very wise. Her snakes whisper in her ears and tell her what will be in the days to come.” They turned away much cheered and comforted, and just then their captors gave the signal f...
To the hapless prisoners, that sound was like the knell of doom. The thunderous sound increased in volume, and suddenly at a turn in the trail, the most magnificent sight that Bomba had ever seen burst upon them. They had reached the Giant Cataract! CHAPTER XXII
RUSPAK GLOATS From a great bluff, hundreds of feet in height, a huge torrent of water poured down into a gorge beneath and rose again in an ocean of spray. The sound was deafening. The mass of waters gleamed with all the colors of the rainbow. It was almost beyond the imagination of a dreamer. It made Bomba catch his b...
The main village lay near the foot of the fall, and from this now came pouring out the women and children and old men of the tribe. There were shouts of delight as they saw the number of prisoners that their warriors had brought with them. They gathered about the captives, taunting and jeering at them and striking them...
The captives sank down under a pall of horror. This, then, was the end of the trail. A day or two more, while their captors were preparing for the great festival of blood, and then torture and death. The only calm and collected person in the whole enclosure was Bomba. Not that he was dwelling in a fool’s paradise. He d...
But how insincere those professions had been on the part of Ruspak and how deeply he had resented the affront to his dignity as a medicine man was evident now by the malignity in his eyes and the gloating smile on his lips. “So Bomba, the mighty Bomba, is a prisoner in the hands of Nascanora!” he jeered. “He finds now ...
Still Bomba kept quiet, and looked at his tormentor with a contempt that stung Ruspak to the quick. “So Bomba has lost his tongue,” snapped the medicine man. “But Nascanora will find that tongue. He will pull it out with redhot pincers. Then he will cool Bomba’s mouth with water. You came to the Giant Cataract. You see...
But all his recital of the horrid tortures that were preparing for Bomba failed to elicit a single word from the contemptuous captive, and Ruspak at last left him and went away, mumbling to himself and licking his lips in anticipation. Bomba turned to Casson and Hondura, who were seated near by. He hoped that they had ...
Bomba glanced around to see that none of the sentries were observing him. “Hondura,” he said, “slip your hand under the puma skin that covers my chest, reach up near my neck and tell me what you find.” Hondura did so, and drew back his hand quickly as it touched something hard and sharp. “It is your machete,” he whispe...
“Yes,” replied Bomba in the same low tone. “I hung it there in a noose when I heard the headhunters were coming. After they had bound my hands, they were in such a hurry to get away from the witch, Sobrinini, that they did not search me. They thought of it afterward, but when they looked for it in my belt it was gone, ...
“Hondura will do so,” promised the Araos chief. The tropic night soon fell and the darkness was made more intense than usual by the absence of moon or stars. A great storm was gathering. Claps of thunder deafened their ears and vivid lightning flashes shot across the sky. Before long the windows of heaven were opened, ...
For hours the torrential rain persisted. All that time Bomba’s brain was at work thinking out plans of escape, rejecting one, seizing on another, and weighing the chances of all. The case was desperate, but his spirit was indomitable. Presently he noted a change in the sound of the cataract. The rains had swelled it tr...
CHAPTER XXIII A MAD STAMPEDE Bomba was on his feet instantly, his mind working with precision and rapidity. He sensed in a moment the full meaning of the calamity and the advantages that he and the other captives might reap from it.
The enormous bulk of water that had swelled the volume of the cataract from the rain had broken the rocks that formed its brink. These had given way so that the course of the cataract had changed, and part of the water that had previously fallen into the gorge was now sweeping down on the doomed village. In accordance ...
“The gods have been good to us,” he cried. “We must go now and go quickly. They will not think of us until their fright is over. Hondura, get your people and lead them out. Pipina, take care of Casson. I will take Pirah--carry her if necessary--and go in front. Keep close to me.” In a twinkling his orders were carried ...
Luckily it was not the way in which the majority of the panic-stricken people had chosen. They were pressing toward the north. Bomba’s plan was to go toward the south, retracing the path they had followed that afternoon. This had a double advantage. With every step he would be widening the distance between the prisoner...
The party of captives had almost reached the end of the straggling village when a huge figure loomed up before them. He was hastening in a direction opposite to them, but not at such a headlong pace, as though he had a certain dignity to maintain which forbade too much yielding to fright. Bomba could not see his face, ...
“Stop!” he commanded, barring the way and stooping down to peer into the boy’s face. Bomba had pulled out his knife from its hiding place by the blade. He had no time to grasp the hilt, but with all the power in his muscular arm he swung the heavy weapon, and the iron haft struck Nascanora right between the eyes. The g...
“No,” said Bomba, “I will not kill a man who cannot fight. He will not wake till morning, and then we shall be far from here.” His hopes were higher now as he pressed on. His one fear had been that Nascanora might rally his people and pursue his former prisoners. That fear now had vanished. Without their chief the head...
“The road is leading upward!” he shouted. “We are coming to a hill! The waters shall not have us!” There was a jubilant chorus of shouts as the party struck the incline, and in a few minutes they were on ground above the swirling waters of the mighty river. The Giant Cataract had reached out for them, but they had elud...
The rain had ceased now, and the traveling promised to be easier. Bomba gave them a little time to rest, and then the journey was resumed. The lake that now extended between them and their enemies was another element in their favor. It would be some time before the waters would subside so as to make pursuit possible. A...
From the top he could see for many miles. His keen eyes scanned the horizon, but could detect no traces of pursuers. With his heart temporarily at rest, he was about to descend when he became conscious of a swaying, rocking motion of the tree. At the same moment a shout came from below: “The tree is falling! Come down!...
IN THE SWIRL OF THE RAPIDS The warning to Bomba came too late. The tree had been undermined by the current, swelled by the recent rain. It had probably been tottering to its fall when Bomba climbed it, and his weight and his movements among the branches determined its fate. Bomba was too high to jump. From such a dista...
Slowly the tree toppled, and then, with a tremendous splash, fell into the river. Its momentum carried it for a moment beneath the surface. Then it came up again with Bomba, drenched and sputtering, still holding tightly to the bough. Fortunately he had been on the landward side of the tree, so that he was on the upper...
The lad’s first impulse, when he found himself afloat, was to plunge into the river and swim for the bank, two hundred feet away. But even as the thought came into his mind he caught sight of the scaly body and horrid head of an alligator between him and the shore. The brute would have had him before he had gone twenty...
Ashati and Neram thought that their last hour had come, and Bomba was inclined to agree with them. The tree might stay there, buffeted back and forth, for days. They could not guide it. They dared not leave it. From the contemplation of his own plight, his thoughts turned to those on shore. He was thankful that they we...
In a little while the point of land resembling a finger had been reached and passed, at so little distance that it would have been easy to swim to it, had it not been for the monster caymen that still kept pace with them. Ashati and Neram had recovered their spirits, now that they had escaped the grip of the rapids. “T...
“Yes,” said Bomba, as his eyes caught sight of Sobrinini’s domain looming up before them, “and the land will be Snake Island.” At this name of ominous import a shudder ran through Bomba’s companions. “The island of the witch woman!” exclaimed Ashati, making cabalistic signs to ward off evil. “The woman with the evil ey...
“Listen!” said Bomba. “You talk like foolish men. Is Bomba dead? Yet Sobrinini’s look fell upon Bomba. She is a wise woman. Did she not say that I would come back to Snake Island? And is Bomba not going back? I do not like her snakes. But she has done no evil to Bomba, and she will do no hurt to Bomba’s friends. And As...
It came from the direction of the island, but, strain their eyes as they might, they could detect no human figure from whom the cry might have issued. The sound was the signal for another outbreak of fear on the part of the ex-slaves. They were brave enough when facing human or animal foes, as they had shown in their c...
The wailing cry came again, so near this time that Ashati and Neram nearly lost their grip on the boughs. Then from out the fringe of trees that lined the shore shot a small canoe, paddled with frantic energy by a withered old woman, her straggling locks streaming behind her head, her face convulsed with fear. “Sobrini...
THE RESCUE OF SOBRININI With Bomba, to think was to act. In a moment he had made his way out on the bough to a point where the foliage thinned out and there was a chance of his being seen. “Sobrinini! Sobrinini!” he shouted at the top of his voice.
At the call, the old crone ceased paddling for a moment and turned her haggard face in the direction of the tree. “Who calls?” she cried shrilly. “Who is it that calls Sobrinini?” “It is Bomba!” shouted the lad, at the same time shaking the bough of the tree violently to attract her attention. She caught the movement o...
“Bartow!” she cried. “Or is it Bartow’s ghost? You have come to see Sobrinini die.” “No!” replied Bomba. “I have come to help Sobrinini live. Come quickly!” This last admonition was prompted by the sight of another boat containing several natives of the island putting out from the shore. He sensed at once that their er...
Bomba dropped lightly into the canoe, and then held it steady until Ashati and Neram had time to follow his example. The other boat was coming on rapidly now, and time was pressing. Bomba took the paddle from Sobrinini’s hands and pressed her gently to the bottom of the boat. But before he dipped the paddle into the wa...
It was a wholesome reminder, and it had an immediate effect. They recognized Bomba now as the jungle boy whose challenge Nascanora had been afraid to accept. That scene had made an indelible impression upon their minds. They stopped paddling, and excited jabbering ensued. Bomba faced them for a full minute. Then with a...

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