She clasped Bomba’s hands fondly, noting sorrowfully that they were bound, and snuggled close up to him, smiling in his face. He reached down, and as she drew near, rubbed her cheek with his.
“Is Bomba glad to see Pirah?” she asked almost happily.
“Yes,” answered the boy, forbearing to add that he would far rather never have seen her at all than to see her in such a position. “Pirah saved Bomba’s life when he came to the village of the Araos, and Bomba will never forget.”
“But no, Bomba, you must not be glad. We are captives,” and the child’s bright face clouded. “We go as slaves. You may not teach me, as you did before, to shoot the bow and arrow. Do you remember when you came to our village that you showed me how to use your bow? But now—oh, what is to become of you, of me?”
Every word the little girl uttered stabbed Bomba to the heart. She had saved his life once. She was his friend, and he had all too few friends. He shuddered to think of what might be the fate of this innocent child in the hands of the savage headhunters.
Their captors were preparing to break camp and were so busy with their packing that for the time the prisoners were left to themselves. That gave Bomba his chance to get together with Casson, Hondura and Pipina, and exchange experiences.
He learned, to his relief, that they had not been treated as harshly as he had feared. Their captors had kept them fairly well fed. But they had told them frankly and gleefully why they did this. They wanted them to be strong enough to endure for a long time the tortures that would be meted out to them at the great festival that would attend the entry of the triumphant warriors into their village.
But however fiendish might be the motive, the fact remained that the prisoners were fairly strong and well. Bomba was glad of this, as it would facilitate matters if a chance offered to make a break for liberty.
He told them in detail of his own adventures, not neglecting the way he had shamed Nascanora, at which they laughed gleefully. And he brought new courage to them by telling them that the Araos, with all the strength they could muster from other tribes, were following on their trail. At any time now they might appear in sight and deliver them.
While he was talking he looked up and saw two figures approaching him. They were downcast and abject and held their faces so low on their breasts that at first he did not recognize them. But as they drew nearer, he saw that they were Ashati and Neram.