“What is a soul?” asked Bomba.
“You’re getting in deep, Gillis,” laughed Dorn.
“I sure am with this animated interrogation mark,” returned his comrade. “The soul is the best part of us, the part that makes men good and wise and brave, that makes them different from the animals.”
“Have I got a soul then?” asked Bomba.
“You sure have,” replied Gillis. “And one of the best, if you ask me. But we’re getting off the subject. We want to give you something that you would like to have. I wonder what it would be.”
His eyes roved about and caught sight of a harmonica that lay in one of the packs they had brought along for trading with the natives.
“How would you like this?” he asked of Bomba, as he picked it up and handed it to him.
Bomba examined it curiously. He liked its smoothness and its glitter.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Let me show you,” said Gillis, as he took it from him, put it to his mouth, and played a few bars of a popular air.