He had not gone far before Kiki and Woowoo, the friendly parrots, fluttered from the trees and dropped one on each shoulder. A little later Doto joined him together with other monkeys, so that he was soon the center of a group of birds and animals, all competing for a word or a pat of the hand.
He talked to them, and they chattered back. Then he took out his harmonica and played for them, to their great delight. So much did the lonely boy enjoy converse with those who loved him that it was with reluctance he finally sent them away, so that he could go on with his hunting.
Two hours passed without anything coming in range of his weapons save small creatures that he disdained to notice. He was after larger game, preferably a tapir, a creature as large as a calf, whose meat was succulent and nourishing. A single one of these would furnish meat enough for a month.
So he turned his steps toward a large river where he knew these animals were likely to be found.
For a long time he had no luck. The sun reached its zenith and dropped down toward the western sky. There were plenty of tracks, but it was mid-afternoon before he caught a glimpse of what he sought.
Then, coming out from a fringe of trees not far from the river’s edge, he saw a large tapir browsing on the bank.
It offered an easy target, and Bomba fitted an arrow to his bow. But unfortunately the wind was blowing toward the tapir and carried Bomba’s scent with it.
The animal looked up, saw Bomba, and without an instant’s hesitation plunged into the river.
Ordinarily that would have ended Bomba’s chances, for the tapir can swim for a long distance under water. His game, therefore, could easily have got beyond bowshot before it would have been compelled to come to the surface for air.
The boy gave an exclamation of vexation, which was checked, however, as his eyes, ranging up and down the river bank, caught sight of a canoe drawn up among some sedge grass near the shore. No doubt it belonged to a native who had left it there while he made a trip into the jungle.