CHAPTER XXV

IN THE NICK OF TIME

The jungle beasts came in swarms!

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.

Then there came pouring down from the trees a hail of the heavy

castanha nuts that felled whatever they struck.

The surviving savages fled, with wild screams, in a headlong rout.

And their demoralization was complete when Polulu, with a tremendous

roar, came bounding in upon them, his eyes glaring, his tail lashing,

his paws striking out like flails.

Bomba heard the shrieks of the affrighted savages, the jabbering of

the monkeys, and the roars of Polulu. His jungle friends had not

failed him. He and Casson were saved!

With smarting eyes he rushed to the door, threw off the heavy bar and

swung the door wide.

Then he ran back to Casson, who was in a half comatose condition,

pulled him to his feet and, half dragging, half lifting him,

staggered through the doorway and laid his burden under the trees.

What blessed coolness was in the night air as Bomba drank it in

deep draughts! And what added delight came to him as he felt on his

uplifted face the plashing of raindrops!

Casson was now in a state of complete collapse, and Bomba was

frightened at the ashen pallor of the old man’s face. He rushed to

the river behind the cabin and brought water, with which he bathed

Casson’s face. Then he chafed his wrists and slapped his hands, until

the naturalist opened his eyes with a feeble moan.

The monkeys were all excitement, and chattered their sympathy with

Casson and their delight at Bomba’s escape. They would have come down

and surrounded the pair, had it not been for the presence of Polulu,

who had returned from his pursuit of the savages and who now came up

to Bomba and rubbed his great head against him.

Then the puma stretched himself on the ground at a little distance,

and Bomba knew as well as if he had been told that his faithful

guardian was settled there for the night. Woe to any skulking savage

who might steal back there while Polulu was on guard!

But, as a matter of fact, there was no further attack to be

apprehended that night, nor for many more to come. The Indians had

paid heavy toll. Five lay dead on the ground, and probably twice that

number in wounded had crawled away into the forest or been carried

off by their comrades.

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. The rain was now coming down in torrents. It deluged the

burning front wall until the blaze died out and great clouds of steam

took its place.

Fortunately, the other three walls had caught in only a few places,

and here, too, the flames were quickly extinguished.

The monkeys gradually dispersed after Bomba told them how grateful he

was for their help and promised to soon see them again.

The storm increased in violence, and Bomba helped Casson into the

hut. The roof had held and the floor was dry. Bomba made the old man

as comfortable as he could in one of the new hammocks he had brought

with him, and then crept into the other to get the rest he so badly

needed and had so richly earned.

The last thing he was conscious of, as he dropped off to sleep,

was that Polulu had come in and stretched his huge form across the

doorway.

Bomba slept late, and when at last he opened his eyes the faithful

puma had gone. He had stayed until all danger was over and then gone

forth to his hunting.

Bomba himself was stiff and sore, but all concern for himself was

quickly lost in his anxiety over Casson’s condition. The terrible

experience through which he had passed had been too much for the old

naturalist, and he was in a high fever. He did not recognize Bomba,

and babbled incoherently in delirium. At intervals he would sink into

a stupor that would endure for hours, to be broken again by wild

tossings and meaningless phrases.

At times the words “Bartow” and “Laura” would escape his lips, but

though Bomba listened eagerly for what would follow, nothing came

that made more clear for him the mystery in which he was enshrouded.

The boy nursed Casson assiduously, using the simple but effective

remedies whose power he had learned from Candido, the half-witted

caboclo, and at the end of several days the fever broke.

From then on Casson mended rapidly, and Bomba was delighted to note

that with returning strength his mind seemed less clouded. He had

lost some of his apathy, and took a greater interest in the things

about him.

The “door” was still closed, but he was trying harder to open it than

he had before. At times a flash of memory seemed to come to him, and

he would begin to speak eagerly, but before he had fairly framed a

sentence the thought would elude him. At such times he was desperate,

and would break out into a passion of weeping.

One day he called Bomba to him.

“Bomba,” he said, laying his thin hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I have

tried and tried to tell you what you have a right to know, but I

cannot remember. Sometimes I almost recall it, and then it vanishes.

But there has come to me a name. There is someone who knows, and he

can tell you much, perhaps all.”

“Who is it?” cried Bomba excitedly.

“It is Jojasta,” replied Casson. “Mark well that name, Jojasta.”

“I will never forget it,” said Bomba solemnly. “But what is he and

where does he live?”

“He is the Medicine Man of the Moving Mountain,” replied Casson.

“The Moving Mountain?” repeated Bomba, in bewilderment. He had never

heard the term before.

“It is a long way off,” explained Casson. “And it is hard to reach.

But I will tell you how to get there. Yes, I know that now. But the

other is too far away. That I cannot recall. Through Jojasta is the

only way you can find out what you want to know, what you ought to

know. You must go.”

How Bomba went there, the fearful perils he met, and the obstacles

he surmounted on the way, will be told in the next volume of this

series, entitled: “Bomba, the Jungle Boy, at the Moving Mountain; or,

The Mystery of the Caves of Fire.”

Casson sank back exhausted, and Bomba knew there was nothing more to

be told just then. But what he had heard filled him with hope.

He must tell his friends and let them share his joy. He took

his harmonica and strayed off into the jungle, playing a dreamy,

plaintive tune.

Soon his jungle friends of the air and treetops were all about him,

Kiki, Woowoo, Doto, and scores of others. He smiled at them, talked

and played for them. He was in a joyous, exhilarated mood, and they

were glad for Bomba’s sake.

“You are all my friends,” he cried. “You helped Bomba when the men

with bad hearts came to the cabin. Bomba loves you all. He does not

want to leave you, but he must go. He will always think of you, and

some day he may come back to you. But Bomba must go. He must find the

men who have souls, the souls that are awake. For Bomba has a soul.

And he must find the white men. For Bomba is white.”

He tore the puma skin aside and displayed his chest.

“Look, Woowoo! Look, Kiki! Look, Doto!” he cried, in an ecstasy of

joy and pride. “Look, all of you! I will tell Polulu, too. I am

white! Bomba is white!”

THE END

_Dear Reader_:

If you have enjoyed this story and wish to follow the further

adventures of BOMBA, you may do so in the books listed on the

following page.

THE BOMBA BOOKS

By ROY ROCKWOOD

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. With Colored jacket._

_Price 50 cents per volume. Postage 10 cents additional._

_Bomba lived far back in the jungles of the Amazon with a

half-demented naturalist who told the lad nothing of his past. The

jungle boy was a lover of birds, and hunted animals with a bow and

arrow and his trusty machete. He had a primitive education in some

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[Illustration: Book]

1. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY

2. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE MOVING MOUNTAIN

3. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AT THE GIANT CATARACT

4. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON JAGUAR ISLAND

5. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE ABANDONED CITY

6. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON TERROR TRAIL

7. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN THE SWAMP OF DEATH

8. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AMONG THE SLAVES

9. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY ON THE UNDERGROUND RIVER

10. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE LOST EXPLORERS

11. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY IN A STRANGE LAND

12. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AMONG THE PYGMIES

13. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE CANNIBALS

14. BOMBA THE JUNGLE BOY AND THE PAINTED HUNTERS

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THE JEWEL SERIES

By AMES THOMPSON

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Postage 10 cents additional._

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[Illustration: Book]

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ADVENTURE STORIES FOR BOYS

By JOHN GABRIEL ROWE

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[Illustration: Book]

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Modern Pirates, with the ferocity of beasts, attack a lightship

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[Illustration: Book]

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A story of a mysterious red auto is packed with many hair-raising

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12 mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in Colors.

Price, per volume, 50 cents.

Postage 10 cents additional.

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Or Jerry Ford’s Adventures Among Savages

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By RICHARD H. STONE

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[Illustration: Book]

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_or Slim Tyler’s First Trip in the Clouds_

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_or Slim Tyler Saving a Fortune_

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[Illustration: Book]

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2. THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND

3. THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO

4. THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS

5. THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT

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7. THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS

8. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC

9. THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS

10. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES

11. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN

12. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING

13. THE MOTOR BOYS AFTER A FORTUNE

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15. THE MOTOR BOYS UNDER THE SEA

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Transcriber’s Notes

pg 23 Changed: his memory of the way a similiar

to: his memory of the way a similar

pg 32 Changed: By Jove!” exclained Dorn

to: By Jove!” exclaimed Dorn

pg 130 Changed: crests of the trees showed a wierd

to: crests of the trees showed a weird

pg 196 Changed: undulating cry that rang wierdly

to: undulating cry that rang weirdly

Bomba the jungle boy · 第 25 / 25 章