Bomba viewed the terrible spectacle with awe and consternation. The island where he had hoped to learn so much no longer existed.
But he was safe! His life had been spared—and that counted for much.
Then another comforting thought came to him. The island of Japazy had sunk. But, as far as he knew, Japazy himself still lived. He would find the half-breed yet.
What fruit was borne by that determination will be seen in the next volumes of this series: “Bomba the Jungle Boy in the Abandoned City; or, A Treasure Ten Thousand Years Old.”
“Japazy still lives,” murmured Bomba to himself. “Bomba will seek him out.”
He took reverently from beneath the puma skin the portrait of the lovely woman. Again those beautiful eyes looked into his.
“Mother,” he whispered. “Mother!”
His eyes blurred. He pressed his lips to the picture and replaced it next his heart.
Then he struck into the jungle.
THE END