Roy Rockwood

“ The great wind, the forerunner of the tropical thunderstorm, had come at the moment of Bomba’s greatest need.
All creatures of the jungle fly to shelter before the fury of the storm. Bomba knew this full well, as did all living creatures of these wilds, large and small.
At the first blast of that fierce gale the parrakeets flew screaming to shelter. The animals of the forests rushed for their dens and the earth dwellers scurried into their holes.
Even the savage vultures retreated before the onset of the gale and the rain of castanha nuts shaken from the bending trees. ”

“ The wind increased to a gale, which, luckily, was at his back. No living thing could have faced it without being swept from its feet.
Bomba was swept along almost without his own volition. Head down, with the dead body of Tatuc held close to his own, he progressed more by the sense of touch than sight, heading toward a deserted native hut that he knew lay at a little distance.
The lightning cut the black of the sky with vicious thrusts. Crash after crash of thunder seemed to shake the very ground beneath the lad’s feet. ”

“ THE JAWS OF DEATH
At sight of the cayman, Bomba, for one awful instant, felt as though he were paralyzed. Strength seemed suddenly to have left his arms and legs.
But only for a moment. The next instant the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself, and he shot forward like an arrow.
He knew he could not reach the shore before the dreadful thing would be upon him. But he would struggle till the last. As a final resource he had his knife.
But what would that knife avail against murderous jaws armed with a score of knives? ”

“ But the feeling that Casson might at any minute be in danger urged the boy to take the shorter cut.
Nevertheless, he hated the swamp. Vaguely he imagined it peopled with evil spirits. The tall crabwood trees standing in clusters threw deep shadows over the blackish-brown water, giving it an indescribably dreary and sinister appearance. Here and there, out of the slimy ooze sprang huge tree ferns. No shrieking of parrots or howling of monkeys in this cheerless spot. Nothing but dead leaves and treacherous mud, without the stir of a leaf or the twitter of a bird to break the brooding silence. ”

“ Why did he never see that look upon the face of Casson? Why did the faces of the natives always wear to Bomba the same dull and stupid look, as dull and stupid, Bomba thought, and often more so, than the faces of his jungle friends? Why were the faces of the Indians always the same, except when they darkened and grew fierce and stern? Why did beauty not appeal to them as it did to him? ”

“ Casson looked puzzled.
“Rubber trees?” he repeated vaguely.
“Back there,” said Bomba, with a wave of his hand. “White men want rubber trees. They hunt them with the caboclos. I save some for them.”
There was a boyish elation in his tone that penetrated even Casson’s bewildered senses. He put out a wavering hand to Bomba, and for the first time noticed how badly the boy was burned.
“You will blister,” he said.
Bomba looked down indifferently at his bronzed skin.
“Yes,” he returned. “You are burned, too.”
Without further speech, he rose silently and disappeared in the jungle. ”

“ Like a shot Bomba’s face disappeared from the crevice through which he had been peering, and he crouched down low, fearful lest the beast should even hear the sound of his heart thumping against his ribs.
He could hear the padding feet of the puma as it leisurely entered the cave. Then there came a sudden pause, a sniff, an ominous growl.
The beast had scented the proximity of a human being. Bomba knew that its hair was bristling, its eyes glowing, as they roamed about seeking to discover the whereabouts of the intruder. ”

“ He knew that none of the natives had any weapon of the kind. Could it be some man like Casson, a man with a white skin like Casson’s and his own?
A white skin! Something tugged at Bomba’s heart. He could not have told what it was. It might have been memory, intuition, instinct. But whatever it was, it took instant and entire possession of him.
He must find out who had fired the iron stick!
The primal law of the jungle is to mind one’s own business. Intrusion on the affairs of another is never welcomed and usually resented. Bomba had learned to obey that law. ”

“ In the distance could be heard something like the soughing of a great wind. It grew in volume until it swelled into a roar. Then the jungle about the hut was alive with monkeys, scores of them, hundreds of them, with every passing moment increasing their numbers.
They saw the burning hut, and sensed Bomba’s extremity. They saw the lurking savages, and realized that they were Bomba’s foes. ”

“ To a casual observer the cave would seem empty.
And even if a careful search were made and his hiding place discovered, he would be in a natural fortress. No arrow or spear could reach him. An Indian would be too big to wriggle through that crevice, and if he tried to do so, he would be at the mercy of the lad’s knife or pistol while he was making the attempt.
The first glow of exultation had barely subsided when Bomba could tell by the sounds outside that his enemies were returning. He could hear a babble of voices and grunts of rage and disappointment at the escape of their prey. ”

“ And then his heart sank, as he realized that Casson seemed to have forgotten all or almost all that he had ever known. There was little help to be expected from the man with whom Bomba lived.
He was engrossed in these meditations when Gillis opened his eyes. They fell on Bomba, and recollection came into them.
“How does our hero feel this morning?” asked Gillis, with a genial smile.
“What is a hero?” asked Bomba, with his usual directness.
“Why, you fill the bill as well as anyone I ever saw,” returned Gillis. “A hero is a man or boy who isn’t afraid.” ”

“ Toward midnight a sudden spitting and snarling rose on one side of the camp, to be taken up shortly on the other. There came the sound of heavy bodies rolling about in the underbrush and crashing through thickets. All the natural caution of the cat tribe seemed to have been abandoned in a rush of panic terror. The snarls and roars swelled into a hideous din that made the natives quake with fear, but that the white men understood.
Bomba’s spell was working! ”

“ Bomba longed to be off to the shadowy depths of the jungle. He had enemies there, but he also had friends. He would call these friends to him, Kiki and Woowoo, Doto, the giant monkey, and Tatuc, head of the monkey tribe.
They were the warmest friends he had in that vast tangled wilderness besides Casson. He understood them, and they loved and trusted him. He was scarcely ever lonesome when with them.
It was very bad to be lonesome. That ache was more terrible to Bomba than any tearing of his flesh. He shrank from it as he did from no physical pain. ”

“ But Pirah showed no intention of going away. She stamped her foot and clung the more tightly to Bomba’s hand.
The boy recognized her then as the youngest child of the chief, Hondura. He had seen her more than once when he had skirted the village in some of his hunting excursions.
Although the women of the jungle are as a rule even more stolid than the men, Pirah promised to be an exception to the rule.
She it was who liked to play at hunting, shouldering a bow as big as herself and learning to shoot at a target when her baby hands could barely stretch the strings. ”

“ Jungle bred as Bomba was and used to fighting for his right to live, a momentary doubt entered his heart as to whether he ought to ask Polulu, his friend Polulu, to give battle against such odds in a quarrel not his own.
But such thoughts were idle. In the jungle, if one lived at all, one must not question but must act. Moreover, the puma was filled now with the excitement and joy of battle and could not be [Pg 156] stopped before victory or defeat had come to him.
Polulu started forward, his big head swinging from side to side, yellow eyes gleaming, lips drawn back wickedly from his fangs. ”

“ His lips drew back from his teeth, and his fingers sought his knife.
“We know now where Casson live,” the chief went on. “Morana found the place. He tell us wild boy Bomba is away. Casson is alone. We go now. Catch Man of Evil. We bring him here——”
“Ugh!” his followers cried again on a higher note of excitement. “We go. Now!”
“We take Man of Evil,” cried Nascanora, the scowl on his distorted features horrible to see. “We tie him to tree. We make fire,” he made a gesture as though his hands held flint and steel. “We burn Cody Casson. Then Man of Evil bring not bad things to tribe of Nascanora.” ”

“ At least half of the raiders had been incapacitated, and among the wounded had been Nascanora himself, and all the unwounded survivors were at that moment rushing pell-mell through the jungle, frantically eager to put as many miles as possible between themselves and the cabin, where the white man’s magic had been capped by the calling of the jungle beasts to help.
As soon as Casson had been restored to consciousness and Bomba had bandaged his burns as well as he could, the lad turned his attention to the cabin.
But there was nothing he could do that nature was not doing still better. ”

“ All the longings he had felt so often, that came to him with increasing intensity day and night, that he had never been able to analyze and understand came to a head at the report of the iron stick. He could not resist them. He did not want to resist them.
He must see the man with the white skin!
Bomba was a striking figure as he worked his way through the jungle over sprawling roots and through a network of vines, gradually drawing closer to the spot from which the sound had come. ”

“ Bomba’s face was grim as he got into the great skin and wrapped the front part of it about his head and shoulders.
The dried head, with the great jaws gaping, had been retained in its entirety, and Bomba held this before his face as he prepared to emerge from his hiding place. The horrible object was one calculated to strike terror to the stoutest heart.
But for the full success of the stratagem light was needed. The Indians must see the fearsome thing in all its ghastliness. ”

“ There a forest monarch, uprooted by the gale, lay prostrate.
Again and again Bomba was compelled to make detours. But he advanced rapidly, nevertheless, so much was he a part of the jungle. He avoided upflung roots and intertwining vines as though by instinct.
At times he had to use his machete to force a way for himself through the bushes. In other places, where the undergrowth was not too high, he progressed after the manner of the Indians, in a succession of deer-like leaps that carried him over the obstacles in his path. ”

“ Bomba drew a long breath and thanked the jungle instinct that had warned him of danger and kept him from blundering right into the hands of the enemy.
Some sort of incantation had evidently been in progress, as was manifest from the presence of a kettle over the fire in which the medicine man had been stirring his horrid brew. The shaman had now desisted, and had reported to the chief the will of his gods.
That it fitted in with the chief’s plans was shown by the words that fell from Nascanora’s lips.
“Cody Casson,” he said. “The gods say he is Man of Evil. He bring trouble to the tribe. ”

“ Bomba’s arm was throbbing and paining. He was bruised and beaten by those powerful wings. He felt as though almost the last ounce of strength had been drained from him. That sensation of overpowering weakness warned him that he must act quickly if he were to act at all.
Slowly he lifted the revolver and pressed it [Pg 102] against the body of the bat that rested on his breast.
The boy shut his eyes, held his breath, and pulled the trigger. ”

“ An exclamation of amazement and relief fell from the old naturalist as he lowered the spear.
“But why—what—” he stammered, as he lay the weapon aside.
“The Indians!” panted Bomba, as he slammed the door shut and slipped into place the heavy bar he had fashioned while he was rebuilding the hut. “Nascanora and his head-hunters! They are here. You heard their cries. They have come to get you, to burn you in a fire.” ”

“ The men laughed.
“About the most important thing in the world outside this jungle,” said Gillis. “This is money,” and he took a gold piece from his pouch and spun it on the rude board that served as a table.
“It is pretty,” said Bomba.
“A good many people think so,” remarked Gillis, dryly. “Some would sell their soul for it.”
“What is a soul?” asked Bomba.
“You’re getting in deep, Gillis,” laughed Dorn. ”

“ But it was likely that the Araos would know something of the whereabouts of the head-hunters, who were as much a foe of theirs as of the two whites. Bomba thought he might make some kind of a treaty with the more friendly natives to help him and Casson in case of need, or at least to keep him informed by some swift courier of any threatening developments.
Nature was beautiful in the jungle after the storm. The sky above was turquoise and the air, washed clean by rain, was like topaz. The vivid green of the shrubs and the grasses shone like emerald. ”

“ If they stayed inside, they would be burned to death. If they rushed outside, nothing could save them from the arrows of their invisible foes.
Invisible! It was this that made Bomba grind his teeth in rage. He had often faced death, but on those occasions he had seen his foes and had had his chance of selling his life dearly. Now even this poor privilege would be denied him. He and Casson would be shot down with perfect impunity by the enemies behind the trees. ”

“ Bomba nodded.
“The white man bad medicine,” said the Indian, his scowl deepening and his hand tightening on his spear.
“He is good medicine,” declared Bomba.
“He is a Man of Evil,” was the reply. “He bring trouble on my people. Much sickness. Many die. Chief Nascanora very angry. He make talk with big medicine man, and medicine man say there will always be sickness as long as white man stay alive.”
A thrill of apprehension ran through Bomba.
“Old white man is good man,” he protested energetically. “He hurts nobody. He would like to cure people, not make them sick. ”

“ It lay in its lair just beside the path that Bomba was following, its body, fourteen feet in length, thrown into coils, above which the slender head swayed back and forth. Evilly beautiful, it glowed with all the colors of the rainbow.
Had it been a rattlesnake or any other poisonous denizen of the jungle, it would have glided [Pg 8] away into the bushes, glad enough to avoid an encounter with human enemies unless attacked. Even the boa or the anaconda is apathetic and, except when moved by hunger, seldom takes the initiative. ”

“ But though they exulted, they did not abate one jot of their vigilance.
It was fortunate for them that they did not, for a few minutes later a huge, tawny body came hurtling through the air, landed within twenty feet of Gillis, and crouched for a second spring.
Two rifles spoke simultaneously with the twang of Bomba’s bow. The jaguar quivered, rolled over on its side, and lay still. ”

“ Many boxes of cartridges accompanied the gift, and Bomba tucked them away carefully in his pouch, feeling as rich as Croesus. It had certainly been a lucky day for him when he had come across the white men!
But his delight in his treasure was dimmed when, a little while later, all preparations were completed and the party got ready to move.
The rubber hunters themselves, steeled adventurers as they were, were deeply stirred as they shook hands with Bomba and bade him good-bye. ”