Even in the light of day, to cross its moss-grown, treacherous surface without slipping was no easy matter. Yet Bomba had done it again and again, for he was as lithe and sure-footed as a mountain goat.
But this was a different matter, and Bomba was well aware of the danger that he faced. The dashing spray had made the log almost as slippery as glass. The darkness added to the peril. With Pipina in his arms it would be difficult to retain his balance. One slip and the two might go whirling into that seething torrent to a fate that the boy scarcely dared to think about.
Still the jungle lad did not hesitate. In front was the torrent, behind him the headhunters. He chose what he regarded as the lesser of the two evils, relying upon his strength and his sureness of foot to carry him and his burden to the opposite side.
He shut his ears to the menacing roar of the waters. He had defied the fury of torrents before. He would defy it again.
Resolutely Bomba set foot upon the log.
CHAPTER VII
A PERILOUS CROSSING
Beneath him the waters roared and thundered. Pipina whimpered and besought her gods, but the ears of Bomba were deaf to her cries.
Underfoot the trunk was like glass. The slightest misstep might mean disaster. But Bomba advanced steadily, scarcely troubled by the light weight of the squaw. He was so accustomed to the dark that he hardly needed the faint rays of moonlight that filtered through the trees to tell him where to place his feet.
He was half-way across. Now he was more than half. Before him loomed the dense undergrowth of the farther bank. Suddenly his foot slipped!
For one horrible moment Bomba teetered over eternity.