It was fortunate for Bomba that he had been so close to the farther shore when he fell. A few vigorous strokes, and he reached the shore. As he drew himself up, another piranha caught his foot in its vice-like jaws and hung on grimly, even after Bomba had drawn himself clear of the water.
Bomba kicked out viciously, and the fish loosened its hold and dropped back into the water. The boy scarcely took time to examine his wounds, though they were very painful and, he knew, would be still worse on the following day. That was, he thought, with a stab at his heart, if he should ever see the light of the next day!
He was furious with himself. Bomba, to have lost his footing on the bridge, Bomba, who had always prided himself on being so sure-footed! The mishap had delayed him seriously. Perhaps it had sealed Casson’s doom and his own.
The journey seemed never-ending as he pressed on, spurring his jaded muscles to the utmost. He was faint from hunger and wearied by the many adventures of that exciting day. His feet felt as if they were weighted with lead. The one that had been bitten by the piranha was already badly swollen, and every step was accompanied by a torturing pang.
And to this physical pain was added the agony of apprehension that with every moment became more acute. Had his enemies preceded him? Had they perhaps already reached the hut?
At last he reached the vicinity of the hut. The crisis was at hand. Perturbed as he was in mind, his jungle cunning did not desert him.
He drifted toward the location of the hut like a shadow. Not a twig snapped under his feet to betray him. He dropped on his hands and knees and crept in this position for a hundred yards to a little elevation from which he would be able to look down directly on the hut. Reaching the spot, he parted the vines and looked through.
It was so dark now that none but jungle-trained eyes could have distinguished anything in the dense pall of blackness. But Bomba had eyes almost as keen as those of Polulu.
Not a sound broke the heavy silence of the night. But for Bomba’s eyes, he might have exulted in the thought that he had outstripped the Indians in the race, that he had reached the hut in time to warn Casson.
But there was a shadow near the hut, and at little distances were other shadows completely encircling it—a sinister ring of threatened death.