“Hondura is sorry that the good old white man has gone,” said the chief gravely. “Hondura like Casson. All the Araos like him. Wish him good.”
“The good spirits will be with him in the jungle,” put in little Pirah. “They will bring him safely to Bomba again or to one of the bucks of my father.”
Hondura smiled indulgently upon the child and put a hand upon the dark hair.
“Pirah speaks well,” he remarked. “May the good spirits be with Casson during his journeyings in the jungle.”
Bomba thanked them both from his heart and addressed himself to the chief.
“If the good chief meets the white man, Casson, will he bring him to his maloca and keep him safe until Bomba comes back?” he asked.
“That Hondura will do,” promised the chief gravely.
For a few moments there was silence, while each stared thoughtfully into the jungle. Then Hondura asked:
“Where does Bomba go now that he speaks of leaving the maloca of Hondura?”
“I shall not leave yet, Hondura,” he replied. “First, I shall search for Casson. I will beat every thicket of the jungle until I find him or feel sure that the gods have taken him. Only after that is done will Bomba set out on a long journey.”