Bomba the jungle boy on Jaguar Island

by Roy Rockwood

It would never do to be caught lurking there, and Bomba was off like a flash. The darkness had swallowed him up before any of the group had come through the door.

Gliding along as silently as a ghost, he reached the dwelling of Japazy. There was no sign of any one having been there in his absence. Everything was as he had left it, and a deathlike silence wrapped the house like a garment.

Reaching his room he threw himself on the bed to think. And if he ever needed to think swiftly and think wisely, it was then.

Now he knew why Solani had looked at him so sadly and lingeringly, as one looks on the face of the dead. The native boy had already sensed the turn that things were taking and felt that in fact, if not in words, the stranger’s death had been already decreed.

But sometimes there is a long way between a decree and its execution, and Bomba, despite the awful peril in which he stood, was by no means ready to concede that he was as good as dead. Again and again he had faced death and escaped by a hair’s breadth. And the quick wit and indomitable daring that had saved him then were his now.

He rapidly reviewed the possibilities in the case. Two courses of action seemed open to him. He could attempt to escape, to leave this terrible island, cross the river and reach the mainland, where he would be safe. Or he could stay and face the enemies who were determined upon his death and try in some way to defeat their purpose.

But if he adopted the first course, that would be an end to his chance of finding speech with Japazy. It would be putting aside his last chance to get some knowledge of his parents, of answering the questions that for months past had tormented him.

The second course, Bomba had to admit to himself, was so foolhardy as almost to smack of insanity. What chance would he have to make head against the warriors of the tribe if it came to a battle? He could doubtless kill some of them, but in the end they would overwhelm him by sheer force of numbers.

But was there not a third course that offered some chance of success? Suppose he did indeed leave the village of Japazy, but still remain on the island?

He felt sure that Japazy had gone to the sunken city with the towers of gold. Doubtless that was his treasure house, to which he had managed in some way to find access and to which he went from time to time to gather more riches. Only in that way could the priceless objects already in this house be accounted for.