They were bending over the lifeless cat that had been pierced through with an arrow, when a rustling among the branches and a low growl warned Bomba that the second jaguar had turned its attention to its new foes and was about to attack.
He could see the brute crouched among the branches, ready to spring upon the two men at the foot of the tree.
“Back! Back into the jungle!” he shouted.
The men had barely time to jump back before the jaguar sprang.
The great vicious ball of fur struck the ground with a thud, not ten feet away from Bomba’s rescuers, and crouched to spring.
But before it could launch itself into the air two bows twanged. One shot missed, but the second arrow caught the beast full in one gleaming, murderous eye and pierced to the brain.
The brute gave a few convulsive struggles and then straightened out beside its mate.
The situation had changed with the quickness of a kaleidoscope. The would-be killers had themselves been killed just at the moment that their victory had seemed assured.
But by whom had their death been brought about? Were these newcomers friendly or hostile to Bomba? The thought came to the boy that they might be of the party of headhunters. If so, he might have escaped death in one form to meet it in another even more terrible.
But as he hesitated, he heard their voices more clearly and recognized them. Then he waited no longer.