THE HIDDEN LISTENER
Bomba knew all too well what that phosphorescent streak meant. An
alligator was coming, and coming fast.
Bomba measured the distance between himself and the shore. The log
could move no faster than the current. But Bomba could!
In an instant he had dived into the water and struck out for the shore.
He could swim with amazing speed, and he had never put such power into
his strokes as he did now. He knew that he was racing for his life.
Would the start he had prove sufficient to bring him to the shore
before he was overtaken by his terrible pursuer?
It probably would not have been, if the monster had not stopped for
an instant and nosed about the log. It was there its eyes had last
descried the boy, for Bomba had been swimming under water since he had
slipped off like a shadow.
That moment of puzzlement on the part of the reptile proved the boy’s
salvation. For by the time Bomba’s almost bursting lungs compelled him
to come to the surface for air, he found himself within a few strokes
of the shore.
The alligator detected him and put on a tremendous burst of speed. But
it was under too great a handicap. Bomba reached the bank and pulled
himself up just as the alligator made a snap at him and missed.
Bomba rose to his feet, his heart swelling with jubilation.
But that jubilation was swiftly turned to horror.
As he drew the air into his gasping lungs and turned from the shore,
there came a tremendous roar and the lad found himself looking into the
fiery eyes of a jaguar crouched for a spring.
There was no time to fit an arrow to the bow, not even time to draw the
machete from its sheath, for even as Bomba’s startled mind grasped the
situation, the beast launched itself into the air.
Like a flash Bomba dropped flat to the ground.
He felt the rush of air as the brute passed over him. The next instant
Bomba was on his feet and had drawn his knife, ready for the return
attack.
But there was no need. They had been so close to the bank that the
spring of the brute had carried it over the edge and into the water. It
came up sputtering and strangling and started to scramble up the bank.
Then came a rush, a scream of mortal agony, and the jaguar was
struggling in the jaws of the alligator!
The great beast fought desperately, tearing with teeth and claws
against the scaly hide of its captor. But the alligator was in its
favorite element and had the advantage. Clamping the jaguar in its
great jaws, it went down under the surface. There was a churning of the
water that rapidly turned red, a few bubbles of air rose to the top,
and then the commotion subsided.
The lord of the jungle had met more than his match in the lord of the
river!
Scarcely daring to believe in his escape, Bomba watched the turbulent
water in a horrid fascination. Two terrible perils, one from the land,
one from the water, had vanished almost in the twinkling of an eye.
He had reached his destination. He was on Jaguar Island. He was
unscathed. Surely the Indians’ gods--or some power higher than his
own--must be on his side when one of his enemies was made to destroy
the other. The conviction gave him renewed strength and courage.
He found a thorn thicket, forced his way into it, and sat down to take
counsel with himself as to his future course.
He had formed no clear idea as yet as to how he would approach Japazy.
He had deferred thinking of that until he should have reached the
island.
One thing was certain. He must not seek him at night. In the darkness
and the confusion that his unexpected coming might produce it might
very well happen that he would be killed before his peaceful intentions
could be explained. It was the law of the jungle to shoot first and
investigate afterward.
No, he must go in the daylight, with his palms extended outward as a
sign of amity and goodwill. Then he would be brought into Japazy’s
presence and would explain his errand. Then he would listen to the
words that would give him the information for which his soul yearned or
else doom him once more to heartache and despair.
He looked at the sky and judged the time from the position of the moon.
It was not yet midnight. He would have some hours in which to get the
rest that he so sorely needed. Then at the first streak of dawn he
would be astir, would go scouting cautiously about the island and find
out the dwelling place of Japazy and his people. After that he could
decide how to approach the half-breed.
The mysterious humming mixed with louder and more discordant notes
still persisted. Bomba glanced riverward and saw the flickering lights
dancing weirdly on the surface. What did they mean? What did they
forebode?
He looked about the jungle. In the faint moonlight that filtered
through the trees the things he saw took on fantastic shapes. The
creepers hanging from the trees swayed and writhed and seemed to
stretch out ghostly arms. The knots and boles of the trunks framed
themselves into grimacing faces that seemed to be chuckling over the
fate of the young invader who had come unbidden into their realm.
With an effort Bomba shook himself free from the morbid fancies that
were stealing upon him.
“Is Bomba an old woman?” he asked himself scornfully. “Will he be
whimpering soon like Pipina, the squaw? No! Bomba does not fear what
the natives fear. He does not tremble like Ashati and Neram who talk
foolish words about ghosts and demons. For Bomba is white. He is like
Gillis and Dorn, who laugh at the talk of ghosts. If they can laugh, so
can Bomba. For Bomba has a white skin and he has a white soul, and he
is afraid of nothing that the foolish people say walk in the darkness.”
Strengthened in his own mind by this defiance, he took food from his
pouch and made a hearty meal. Then he burrowed still further into the
heart of the thicket, where, knowing that no wild beast would attempt
to get at him, he lay down and slept.
The first faint light of day was creeping up the sky when he awoke.
He made a hasty breakfast, and then, after looking closely to the
condition of his weapons, set out on his voyage of discovery.
It was not long before he discovered that the island was many acres
in extent. Much of it was jungle, almost as thick in places as on the
mainland. But it was much easier to traverse, for there were numerous
well-beaten trails extending in various directions which attested the
presence of quite an island population.
There were sections also on which grew little vegetation. These were
sandy and rocky plateaus, seamed with ravines. There was one great hill
that almost rose to the dignity of a mountain, and from this a bluish
vapor or smoke kept constantly rising and spreading out in the shape of
a fan. At times a flash of flame would issue forth from the summit.
In the vicinity of this, Bomba frequently felt slight tremors of the
earth, one of them so pronounced that it nearly threw him from his
feet. And the humming was much louder here than it had been when Bomba
was on the river.
Bomba knew that he was in a volcanic region, and the discovery did
not contribute to his peace of mind. The terrible scenes that had
attended the eruption of the Moving Mountain and the earthquake that
had accompanied it were still too fresh in his memory not to stir him
unpleasantly in retrospect.
At almost every moment Bomba expected to come upon some hut or village
in the jungle. From the inhabitants of these, he had planned to get
information as to the village or town in which Japazy dwelt. But though
he saw once in a while some ramshackle cabin, it proved invariably
to be deserted. In some places the lush vegetation of the jungle had
almost overgrown the hut. No beaten path led to the door. Not the
rudest of native furniture was within.
After two or three experiences of this kind Bomba grasped the
situation. The jaguars that had given the island its name must abound
in such numbers that no solitary dweller in the jungle would be safe.
Probably every one of these deserted cabins had been the scene of a
tragedy. Undoubtedly the inhabitants had had to gather into one town
for mutual protection.
Bomba thanked his stars that it was daylight and that most of the
nocturnal prowlers had retired to their dens where they would sleep the
day away in preparation for the next foray. But all the same, there
might be one or more about, and he kept a vigilant eye upon every tree
and thicket.
He had searched about for perhaps three hours when he heard the twang
of a bow string. With it was blended a roar of rage and pain. Then
followed an excited babbling of voices.
The sound had come from the further side of a group of rocks that
seemed to have been thrown about in confusion by some convulsion of
nature. They were not more than fifty yards away.
With the speed and at the same time the stealthiness of a panther,
Bomba glided to the biggest group of bowlders. He squeezed himself in a
crevice between two of them.
Now he could hear the voices of two natives talking vociferously.