The first glow of exultation had barely subsided when Bomba could tell by the sounds outside that his enemies were returning. He could hear a babble of voices and grunts of rage and disappointment at the escape of their prey.
He crouched low behind his barricade, scarcely daring to breathe.
The steps came nearer and nearer.
Then suddenly there was a guttural exclamation of surprise mingled with triumph, and he knew that they had discovered the entrance to his hiding place.
The shout was followed by dead silence, which Bomba was at no loss to interpret.
His enemies knew that if he were there he would be desperate, fighting with his back against the wall. None of them was eager to be the first to enter and face him. There was no need for impetuous action. If he were there, he could not escape.
So they were drawing stealthily nearer, probably from the side, so as to escape a possible whizzing arrow, the only weapon with which they thought he would be equipped.
For some minutes the deathlike silence continued. Bomba could feel, though he could not see, that fierce, keen eyes were peering in, trying to pierce the darkness that at the back of the cave was almost absolute.
Then came a hissing sound, and a flaming torch was thrown into the cave, its flaring light illuminating every crevice of the interior.
Apparently it was empty. If the fugitive had entered there, it seemed evident that he must have escaped by some other exit.