And Bomba knew that the old chief and his people would take good care of Casson. Good old Casson! Would he ever see the old man again, the lad wondered.
But a different and more welcome turn was given to his thoughts when Bomba discovered that the fierce tossing had ceased. The tree had been thrown from the rapids into smoother water, and was now drifting in the grip of a strong current in the same direction that Bomba’s canoe had taken two days before.
In a little while the point of land resembling a finger had been reached and passed, at so little distance that it would have been easy to swim to it, had it not been for the monster caymen that still kept pace with them.
Ashati and Neram had recovered their spirits, now that they had escaped the grip of the rapids.
“The Spirit of the Jungle is good!” exclaimed Ashati.
“It will not be long before we touch land somewhere,” prophesied Neram, hopefully.
“Yes,” said Bomba, as his eyes caught sight of Sobrinini’s domain looming up before them, “and the land will be Snake Island.”
At this name of ominous import a shudder ran through Bomba’s companions.
“The island of the witch woman!” exclaimed Ashati, making cabalistic signs to ward off evil.
“The woman with the evil eye which brings death to everyone on whom it falls!” said Neram with a shiver.