LYING IN AMBUSH
The two slaves seemed not to hear Bomba.
Perhaps they were half dead from fright, or perhaps they thought that
the malady that had attacked the monkeys had disordered Bomba’s mind as
well.
Despite his command, they continued to crouch stupidly close to the
ground, striving to keep out of reach of the clutching hands that swung
from the branches overhead.
One great ape dropped to the ground and came swiftly toward them on all
fours, uttering howl after howl, so wild and eerie that it froze the
blood in the veins of the adventurers.
Finding that the slaves were too terrified to heed his orders, Bomba
seized Neram, who was nearer to him, and flung him bodily through the
opening of the cave. He took Ashati by the arm and dragged him forward,
shouting:
“The cave! The cave! Do you hear what I say? Get inside quick, and I
will follow.”
From inside the cave Neram reached out a hand and drew Ashati within
the sheltering blackness.
As Bomba was about to follow, the monkeys, following the leadership of
the great ape that had begun the actual attack, dropped to the ground
and swarmed toward Bomba.
The boy leaped for the gaping mouth of the cave just as the first of
the monkeys grazed his arm with its paw.
Neram and Ashati dragged him further into the depths of the cavern,
while, with a shriek of rage, the baffled monkey, seeking to follow,
dashed instead into the rock surface at the side.
Bomba stubbed his foot, bruising it as he fell forward into the cave.
He stooped down to examine the object and found that it was a great
rock.
“Come, help me!” he cried to the two slaves, who were fully awake now
to the fact that there was hope of escape.
They stooped to aid him, and as the monkeys recovered from their
surprise at the sudden disappearance of their enemies and began to
search out the entrance to the cave, those within rolled the great
stone to the entrance, fairly blocking it.
While they held that stone in place they were safe.
Bomba and his companions sank down on the ground, gasping for breath,
and pressed their weight against the rock.
The weird howling of the enraged monkeys outside their shelter made
them tremble even now, lest their cunning foes should find some other
entrance to the cave and come pouring in to indulge in massacre.
But as time passed and they remained unmolested in their retreat, while
the awful howling of the monkeys died down to a mere jumble of sound,
they began to take courage and hope that all would still be well with
them.
Bomba had feared at first that the cave might be the lair of some wild
beast of the jungle.
But the fact that the stone was so near the mouth of the cave and was
evidently intended to block up the entrance seemed to argue human
occupation. Some native, perhaps, had become an outlaw from his tribe
and had chosen the cave as his home.
When it became certain that the monkeys had tired of their quest and
were straggling off again into the jungle, Bomba ventured to make a
cautious tour of the cave to make sure that his guess had been correct.
Even then he was afraid that at any moment his fingers might touch
something warm and alive but not human.
However, the cave was a small one, and he soon found, to his great
relief, that, save for Ashati, Neram and himself, it was unoccupied.
Tired beyond words, but jubilant at their escape, Bomba returned to the
two, who still squatted on the ground close to the stone that guarded
the entrance to the cave.
Ashati was inclined to indulge in prophecy.
“The Spirit of the Jungle is good,” he stated, as Bomba threw himself
down beside them. “Twice it has saved the life of Bomba. The captives
of the wicked Nascanora and his half-brother Tocarora will be spared.
Bomba will live to seek out Sobrinini, and find from her the secret
that the poor old white man cannot tell. It is for that that the Spirit
of the Jungle has twice saved the life of Bomba.”
“Ahma,” said Neram, which meant “so be it,” as he bowed his head
reverently.
It was not long before all three were asleep, stretched on the ground
against the great rock, so that the slightest push on it would be
certain to rouse them.
But they were undisturbed all through the long hours of the night, and
at dawn awoke, refreshed and ravenous for the great chunks of roasted
jaguar meat they had prepared the day before.
They ate quickly, listening meanwhile for any sounds from the jungle
which might warn them of a further attack on the part of the mad
monkeys.
But, aside from the ordinary jungle noises, everything was as quiet as
they could wish. Unless they were still slyly watched by their enemies,
their escape from the cave should be a matter of no great difficulty.
Nevertheless, both Neram and Ashati were reluctant to leave the
friendly shelter of the cave, and urged that Bomba rest there another
day and night until all danger should be gone.
But Bomba would not listen to this.
“You stay,” he said. “But Bomba must go. If, as you say, it was the
Spirit of the Jungle that twice saved his life yesterday, the Spirit
might be angry if Bomba were afraid and perhaps the next time would not
save him from the hairy arm of the great ape or the sharp claws of the
jaguar. No, Bomba must go.”
So, seeing that he was in earnest and thinking that if the lad were
under the protection of the Spirit of the Jungle they would be also,
Neram and Ashati said nothing more and helped Bomba roll the great
stone from the entrance to the cave.
“Where you go we will go,” said Ashati gently, as the welcome sunlight
streamed in. “Though you will not have us for your slaves, you are our
master. Let Bomba start and we will follow.”
Making no sound, they went swiftly through the jungle and did not pause
or stop to rest until they had put a great distance between them and
the scene of the fantastic nightmare adventure of the evening before.
When the sun was high above their heads and all the jungle seemed to
fry and crackle beneath the heat of it, Bomba and his companions sat
down to eat the last of the jaguar meat and some berries and nuts they
had gathered by the way. Farther back they had found a stream of clear,
cool water, where they had slaked their thirst.
They resumed their route and had not gone far before they heard the
sound of rushing waters. The sound lent wings to Bomba’s feet, and the
faithful slaves kept pace with him, no matter how fast he went.
They came out soon on the banks of a river. The noise of the foaming
waters had been growing louder and louder until now it smote upon their
ears like thunder. A torrent of black water dashed along the river bed
and leaped angrily against the rocks that studded its course, flinging
a shower of spray upon Bomba and his companions where they stood at the
edge of the fringe of trees that bordered the river.
“The River of Death!” muttered Ashati in hushed tones. “It is so that
our people call it.”
“And it is well named,” said Neram, making a cabalistic sign as though
to ward off evil.
“Beyond the River of Death,” said Bomba in a voice of impatience,
“though so far away that the eye cannot see it, is the Giant Cataract.
Come, let us be quick. Nascanora and his braves cannot be far away.”
They started again, following the course of the stream. Suddenly Neram
paused with his head to one side as though he were listening.
“Hark!” he said, when Bomba would have questioned him. “Someone comes.”
As soon as the words had fallen from his lips, Bomba threw himself upon
the ground and put his ear to it.
Instantly he was on his feet again, drawing Ashati and Neram within
the shelter of the trees, which at that point were growing in great
profusion.
“We will watch as silently as the jaguar watches for his prey,” he
hissed. “Let no one move or make a sound.”
Hidden by the rank marsh grass that formed a perfect covert, the three
lay motionless, not a breath betraying their hiding place.
For what seemed a long time to the intent watchers, no one appeared in
sight. For all that could be seen, the jungle was free from all human
presence and given over to its animal inhabitants.
Unseen himself from the bank of the river, only a few yards away, Bomba
could yet have a perfect view of any living thing that might pass by.
Absolutely still, as motionless as though he were an image of stone,
his eyes alone moved to show that he lived and breathed.
The faint sound of footsteps that they had heard gradually became more
distinct, and at last a solitary traveler came into view. The man was
an Indian, but of a tribe with which Bomba was not familiar. He was
journeying swiftly when those concealed in the long grass caught their
first glimpse of him, glancing again and again over his shoulder as
though he feared pursuit.
Motioning to Neram and Ashati to remain silently where they were, Bomba
wriggled through the underbrush as sinuously as a snake. Not a motion
of the grass betrayed his presence.
Then, without a sound, as though he had risen from the heart of
the earth, Bomba leaped to his feet directly in the path of the
unsuspecting native.
The fellow started back and opened his mouth to yell, but before a
sound could issue from it Bomba had clapped one lean, brown hand over
his mouth and with the other had thrown him prone on the ground.
Kneeling on the chest of his captive, who was too paralyzed by the
suddenness of the attack to make more than a feeble resistance, Bomba
called softly to Ashati and Neram. As though, like Aladdin, he had
conjured them by the rubbing of a lamp, they were instantly at his side.
At their unexpected appearance, the feeble resistance of the native
ceased altogether. He seemed to be stupefied with terror, and stared
from one to the other of his captors with red and watery eyes that
begged for mercy.
“We will not hurt you,” said Bomba, taking his hand from his prisoner’s
mouth while at the same time he motioned Neram and Ashati to grasp the
fellow, should he seek to break away. “Only tell us what you know and
you shall go free. But lie to us,” he added, with a significant motion
toward his machete, “and you die!”