“The gods have been good,” returned Bomba. “The big snake is dead. We will eat of its flesh, for it is good. Neram will make a fire and we will feast. Then Ashati and Neram will tell Bomba where they have been and what they have done since they left the cabin of Pipina.”
In a short time the fire was blazing and the choicest portions of the snake were being roasted. They ate in silence, as is the custom of the people of the jungle, and it was only when their appetites were fully satisfied that Bomba spoke.
“Tell Bomba now,” he commanded, “where have been the comings and goings of Ashati and Neram since they left the cabin of the good squaw Pipina. They went to look for Sobrinini. Did they find her?”
“Neram and Ashati did not find her,” replied the former. “There was no sign of Sobrinini in the jungle. There were no footprints. She must have melted into air. She could have done this, for she was a witch.”
“She was a witch,” echoed Ashati, making a cabalistic sign to ward off evil spirits.
“Ashati and Neram talk foolish words,” replied Bomba impatiently. “There is no such thing as a witch.”
The ex-slaves were silent but by no means convinced. Superstition was woven into the very warp and woof of their natures.
“If Ashati and Neram could not find Sobrinini,” went on Bomba, after a moment of meditation, “why did they not come back to the cabin of Pipina and tell Bomba?”
“They wanted to come,” replied Neram, “but Neram was taken sick with fever in the jungle, and it was many weeks before he was strong enough to walk. And then Ashati’s leg was hurt in a fight with a jaguar that he killed. Ashati and Neram are on their way now to Pipina’s cabin. And Bomba will go with us. That is good.”
“No, Bomba will not go,” replied the lad. “He is going on a long journey. And Ashati and Neram will not find the cabin of Pipina. It is gone.”