There came the padding of feet and a pushing aside of the bushes, and Bomba could see the outlines of a great body of some member of the four-footed tribe advancing toward him.
Some other denizen of the jungle coming to refresh himself at the water hole. Bomba’s pulses beat fast. There were enemies now behind him as well as in front of him. They had come to enjoy a drink. They might stay to enjoy a feast, with Bomba furnishing the material for the banquet. It was a gruesome prospect, and Bomba could feel the chills creeping over him.
He gripped his weapon tightly, prepared to sell his life dearly, though he knew that against such odds he had no chance of escape.
The bushes parted and a great head looked through.
Bomba raised his weapon, but he dropped it again when he saw that head mor
