“The Great Spirit of the Jungle save us!” cried the frightened wretch, trembling as with the ague. “The headhunters have come! The great chief, Nascanora, is at hand!”
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. Seeing his threatening attitude, the savages were rushing on him with spears held high when a command from Nascanora halted them.
“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.