“The cause of Bomba is a good one,” he said simply. “Bomba does not fear the evil spirits.”
“Hondura knows that Bomba does not fear anything living,” the chief responded. “But he has no arrow that will sink into the breasts of the dead. He has no knife that can reach their hearts. They will not fear when Bomba defies them. They will laugh.”
“I am going,” the lad declared.
The old chief nodded his head as though, knowing Bomba, he had expected some such answer from the boy.
“Go then. But go only to the island of the big cats. Do not go to the place above the island where the city with the towers of gold stood. Find Japazy, the half-breed, and return with speed. Hondura and the little Pirah will watch for you. And we will have prayers made by the medicine man that you do not meet the evil spirits.”
“But do not go yet,” pleaded Pirah, clinging to his hand. “Pirah wants you to stay days, many days. You are tired. You have been fighting. We will make big feast if you will stay in the maloca of Hondura for a time.”
Bomba returned the pressure of the warm little hand affectionately.
“Pirah is good and Hondura too is good,” he said earnestly. “Bomba would be glad to stay. But he must go.”
He turned to the chief.
“I go first into the jungle to hunt for Casson,” he said. “I will look for him till I find him or feel sure that he is dead. If I find him, I will bring him back to stay with Hondura. If I do not find him, I will go on to find Japazy on Jaguar Island.”