“Good old Polulu!” exclaimed Bomba, as he caressed the great head affectionately. “He is one of Bomba’s best friends. Bomba is glad to see him. But Bomba cannot stay with Polulu long. He is going on a long journey. For Bomba’s place is not here. He is not a native of the jungle. He has a soul. He is white. Yes, Bomba is white. And Bomba’s soul cannot be at rest until he dwells among the white people.”