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The subject for a test was not hard to find in the form of a spiny rat that he dug out of a decayed stump and holding the rodent in one hand he pricked the tender skin with the point of the arrow. The rat struggled and squeaked, but when he released it a few minutes later it scurried to cover. Choflo's treachery had been proven. Oomah replaced the missile in his pack and started up the river.
But, knowing sleep as a reviver of spent energy, he welcomed its coming to relieve the heavy numbness that was penetrating to his very bones. It came, swiftly; the deadly poison prepared by Oomah was completing its ghastly work, was inducing the sleep; but not the normal, restful slumber that comes between sunset and sunrise but the sleep that is everlasting and without awakening.
"No, the stranger is not dead not quite dead." "You are mine. I will take you to the village; it is less than half a rest away. I will feed you and cure you of the fever. You are mine." Oomah looked again at his discoverer, and closed his eyes. "I know you," he said feebly. "You are of the Patocos who have eaten many of my people." "Yes, I am of the Patocos and we have eaten many of the Cantanas.
If Choflo's words were true, and Oomah was to save the earth by slaying the Black Phantom, he must act soon or Tumwah's work would be too far advanced for remedy. He could do no more than he was doing.
"Speak, Agoo, are these tidings true?" Oomah asked. "There is even more. Scarcely had Choflo died than a blanket of dark clouds rolled across the heavens and rain fell throughout the night. Tumwah had been appeased. We are saved. The earth is saved. And you, Oomah, shall be rewarded and honored above all men." The Patocos stood about in a spell-bound group.
Also, led by an aged man who relied more on charms and incantations than upon valor, it stood in a fair way of utter extermination. Among the men was a youth of promise, Oomah by name. He was a general favorite, praised by the men for his deeds of courage and daring, admired by the women and beloved by the children. Oomah was only seventeen.
The men stole out of their shelters just as the rays of the brilliant orb bathed the level sea of green treetops of the Amazonian jungle with a flood of roseate light, and scanned the sand in front of their doorways. Oomah found the symbol, a tuft of snowy, drooping aigrettes that quivered and glistened at the slightest touch.
Instead of the deadly pua poison contained in the stems of the creepers he had brought from the forest he had used the harmless gum which so closely resembled it that the eye could not distinguish between them. Oomah started on his perilous mission that night, after the feast had been eaten and all the members of the tribe had bade him a solemn farewell.
"The magic arrow shall be prepared at once, for only by it can the Black Phantom be slain; heed well my words, Oomah, and use no other. You will depart at nightfall. A long trail and a hard one lies before you with death waiting at the end for the loser." All through the day Oomah moved as in a trance. The enormity of the undertaking dazed him.
And while their eyes were filled with admiration, their hearts were full of pity and sadness. For, with the coming of night Oomah would pass from among them like the fading of a shadow when the sun sets. Preparations were at once started for the parting feast. Hunters had gone in quest of game. The women ground yuca roots for fresh cassava bread.
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