In the position in which Bomba found himself, he could use what weapons he had only with great difficulty. The passage was so narrow that he had no room to draw his bow. That rendered his arrows useless.
And the crevice was so located with reference to his body that he could only use his knife or revolver with his left hand.
As to hurling his knife, as he had in the case of the jaguar, he could not draw his arm back to get sufficient force for the throw. And he was so little used to the revolver, even with his right hand, that the chance of his being able to aim accurately with the left was almost negligible.
His heart sank as he realized his helplessness. He seemed doomed to die like a rat in a trap.
While he was bitterly pondering his situation, the shadow moved. Like a shot Bomba’s face disappeared from the crevice through which he had been peering, and he crouched down low, fearful lest the beast should even hear the sound of his heart thumping against his ribs.
He could hear the padding feet of the puma as it leisurely entered the cave. Then there came a sudden pause, a sniff, an ominous growl.
The beast had scented the proximity of a human being. Bomba knew that its hair was bristling, its eyes glowing, as they roamed about seeking to discover the whereabouts of the intruder.
Then the padding was resumed, and the steps drew nearer his hiding place.
There was a thunderous roar and the beast dashed violently against the wall, as though it would batter it down by the sheer force of its impact.
Three times this was repeated. Then, as though recognizing the futility of this form of attack, the animal desisted. The roars were replaced with snarls, as the puma tried to force its body through the narrow opening.