Bomba would have figured out all of these things by himself, even if he had not been warned by his friend, Hondura. But not for a moment did he dream of turning back. As far as is possible to human nature, the lad was absolutely devoid of fear. And now, with his trusty bow again in shape, he went on with renewed confidence.
He came to the banks of a stream and rubbed his sore muscles with the warm mud. This took some of the ache from them, and he found that he could walk with greater ease and make much better progress. His spirits rose as he dried himself and swung off buoyantly on the trail.
“Bomba may still be in time to see Japazy and get the truth from his lips,” he assured himself, and in that mood felt capable of moving mountains, even that formidable mountain on which Jojasta had dwelt.
The hope that before many days had sped he would have realized his heart’s desire quickened his steps until he found himself breaking into a run.
For two days more he traveled along a trail that grew ever more difficult. The lack of human inhabitants had caused the trail in many places to be overgrown, and Bomba’s machete was in almost constant requisition to hack a way for him. This involved not only arduous labor but the loss of precious time, and the boy fumed and fretted. Yet he never grew discouraged, never even thought of turning back.
Bomba had never heard the word “impossible.” If he had, he would not have understood it. If it had been explained to him, he would have laughed and refused to believe it. Nothing was impossible to Bomba, if he had determined to do it. It would take nothing less than death to prove that he had been mistaken.
The food he had brought with him from Hondura’s camp grew monotonous before long, but he managed to vary his diet by turtle eggs, fish and the bringing down of an occasional wild pig.
Sometimes he stopped to cook the meat; at other times he ate it raw. Always he hurried on, flogging himself to renewed effort, allowing only the most meager intervals for food and rest.
Then one day, when he had come upon the trail of a tapir and was stalking it, that sixth sense of his told him that he, too, was being followed.
He faced about and stood tense and silent, eyes searching the shadows of the jungle.