“You will not go there?” he cried in horror. “I tell you it would be better for you to go to the giant anaconda and let him wind his coils about your body than to seek out Sobrinini on her island that lies under the curse of the gods. I tell you again that to go there is to die.”
“That is for me to say,” replied Bomba. “I do not fear Sobrinini. I do not fear her snakes. I have come a far way to see her and I will see her. Tell me what I want to know. Bomba does not like to ask a thing twice.”
In response to this imperative demand, the native jabbered out directions, telling Bomba the course he must take to reach Snake Island if he did not wish to be swept to destruction by the rapids of the River of Death.
When Bomba had extracted all the information he could, he motioned the native to rise to his feet.
“Listen!” he said. “If I were Nascanora I would kill you, so as to be sure that your tongue would be still. But Bomba’s heart is not black like that of the chief of the headhunters. I am going to let you go free. But if you tell anyone that you have seen me you will find that Bomba’s knife is sharp and his vengeance is swift. Go now and remember what I say.”
After the man had disappeared, Bomba wasted little time in discussing the matter with his companions. For if he were to accomplish all he hoped to before Nascanora should pass that way, he would have to work hard and fast.
He was in a ferment of eagerness to visit Sobrinini and wrest from the strange woman the secret of his birth. He was sure she knew. Jojasta had said she could tell him. Casson’s queer actions when the name of Sobrinini had been mentioned and his statement that “Nini would know” had further confirmed his conviction.
As for the terrors that, according to the native, barred access to her, he cared not at all. He was used to meeting and overcoming danger. He would face anything rather than once more be balked in learning what to him was almost as much as life itself.
With the aid of Neram and Ashati, he cut down one of the smaller trees near the river bank and began the work of hollowing out a portion of the trunk in the form of a small canoe.
It was hard work and slow, even with the aid of his companions, who were skilled in that kind of work, and when the evening shadows fell along the banks of the River of Death the canoe was only half done. Impatient as he was, Bomba was forced to wait till morning for the completion of the work.