He felt the rush of air as the brute passed over him. The next instant Bomba was on his feet and had drawn his knife, ready for the return attack.
But there was no need. They had been so close to the bank that the spring of the brute had carried it over the edge and into the water. It came up sputtering and strangling and started to scramble up the bank.
Then came a rush, a scream of mortal agony, and the jaguar was struggling in the jaws of the alligator!
The great beast fought desperately, tearing with teeth and claws against the scaly hide of its captor. But the alligator was in its favorite element and had the advantage. Clamping the jaguar in its great jaws, it went down under the surface. There was a churning of the water that rapidly turned red, a few bubbles of air rose to the top, and then the commotion subsided.
The lord of the jungle had met more than his match in the lord of the river!
Scarcely daring to believe in his escape, Bomba watched the turbulent water in a horrid fascination. Two terrible perils, one from the land, one from the water, had vanished almost in the twinkling of an eye.
He had reached his destination. He was on Jaguar Island. He was unscathed. Surely the Indians’ gods—or some power higher than his own—must be on his side when one of his enemies was made to destroy the other. The conviction gave him renewed strength and courage.
He found a thorn thicket, forced his way into it, and sat down to take counsel with himself as to his future course.
He had formed no clear idea as yet as to how he would approach Japazy. He had deferred thinking of that until he should have reached the island.
One thing was certain. He must not seek him at night. In the darkness and the confusion that his unexpected coming might produce it might very well happen that he would be killed before his peaceful intentions could be explained. It was the law of the jungle to shoot first and investigate afterward.