One Wok, One Pot Kwoklyn Wan

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 Managing Director Sarah Lavelle Commissioning Editor Stacey Cleworth
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Published in 2023 by Quadrille an imprint of Hardie Grant Publishing Quadrille
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London SE1 1UN
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Text © Kwoklyn Wan 2023

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Design © Quadrille 2023
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eISBN 9781787139091
Copyright Page

Introduction

Ingredients

Equipment

STARTERS

RICE

NOODLES

VEGETABLES

CHICKEN & DUCK

PORK & BEEF

FISH & SEAFOOD

DESSERTS

Index

Acknowledgements
INTRODUCTION

Most cultures across the globe have their own version of a one-pot meal,
contributing to a worldwide collection of dishes to tease and tantalize that all
share one simple defining factor – they are all prepared in one pot, be that a pan,
slow cooker, rice cooker or wok!

Some hardcore devotees would insist that to be a true ‘one-pot meal’, all the
elements of the meal must be cooked solely in one pot and that serving a side
dish is cheating. Personally, I think it’s open to interpretation. In my humble
opinion, if one-pot cooking is all about ease and comfort, nothing whispers
home-cooked satisfaction more than a lovingly prepared one-pot meal paired
with a bowl of steamed rice or even a soft bread roll for dunking. Let’s be
honest, you wouldn’t think twice about pairing your one-pot cup of tea with a
cookie or two.

Influenced by my heritage and the many delicious East and Southeast Asian
cuisines and flavours and regional specialities – from Japan and Korea to
Thailand and Malaysia – I have designed the recipes in this book in the hopes of
inspiring you to relax in your kitchen and get back to a simpler way of cooking,
but as always, to never lose out on flavour and texture.

For those hectic households with after-school clubs competing with meal times,
what easier way to satisfy the family than to have a ready-prepared pot bubbling
away on the stove when the afternoon rush is over, so that everyone, including
the household chef, can take a seat and enjoy the meal together; for the young
professionals living life on the run, a slow-cooker meal prepared the night before
and quickly flicked on in the morning before leaving for work will be a hearty
smell to welcome them home at the end of a busy day; and for the humble
student living in shared accommodation with only one pan to their name, pot rice
and noodle bowls will keep them fed and probably quite popular amongst
housemates.
One-pot cooking is all about keeping it simple: whether you’re pressed for time
or you just don’t have the space and equipment for creating large meals, these
recipes are the perfect space-and time-saving answer to pleasing your taste buds.
INGREDIENTS

Rice

There are so many different types to choose from. Jasmine rice is commonly
used throughout China and is slightly fragrant, but you can use most long-grain
varieties and some medium grains too. Long-grain varieties include basmati,
jasmine, wild rice and American long-grain rice. While arborio, California
calrose and Chinese black rice or ‘Emperor’s Rice’ are all medium-grain.

In some of my dishes I use glutinous rice, which when cooked is very, very
sticky. Though the name may suggest it contains gluten, it is in fact completely
gluten-free. The name comes from the fact that when the grain is cooked it
becomes like glue.

Rice noodles
Rice noodles are made from rice flour and water, but in some brands tapioca or
cornflour (cornstarch) is used to improve elasticity and chewiness. You can buy
rice noodles in varying thicknesses, from string-like noodles like vermicelli to
thick, fat, flat noodles, which are normally referred to as ho fun.

Many supermarkets now sell the ready-to-wok noodles, but you can use the
dried packet noodles too; simply rehydrate them in boiling water before using.
Instructions are always on the packet so be sure to follow those.

Glass noodles
Glass noodles, also known as cellophane noodles, are a type of transparent
noodle made from starch (such as mung bean starch, potato starch or tapioca
starch). Used in stir-fries, soups and spring rolls, these noodles add texture and
bite to a dish. Like rice noodles, you can buy these noodles dried and rehydrate
them in boiling water when you need to use them.

Chinese sausage (lap cheong)

Lap cheong is a type of dried fatty sausage normally made from pork, though
other varieties, including chicken and duck, are now available. Often eaten as
part of dim sum and steamed or cooked inside rice parcels, the sausages are
sweet, sometimes smoky and utterly delicious. The tradition of ‘Dim Sum’ began
in ancient China where travellers along the old Silk Road broke up their journey
by stopping at tea houses. As it was discovered that drinking tea aids digestion,
small pieces of food were offered with the tea. In Cantonese this is referred to as
‘Yum Cha’ – which is the complete act of having a meal while drinking tea.

Garlic, ginger and spring onion – aka ‘The Holy Trinity’

This threesome features heavily in Chinese cooking, and a dish would only truly
be considered Cantonese with the inclusion of at least one, if not all three of the
Holy Trinity of aromatics – garlic, ginger and spring onion.

Chilli paste
Doubanjiang: A Chinese chilli bean paste that is savoury and spicy, made from
fermented broad beans, soya beans, flour, salt and chillies, which adds a complex
flavour to the dishes it is cooked with. Throughout China there are different
variations of the paste; the most well known is from Sichuan.

Gochujang: A Korean paste that is fundamental to many dishes. It is red in

colour and made from chilli (red pepper) flakes, glutinous rice, fermented soya
beans and salt. It has a rich flavour packed with umami.

Chilli powder
Chilli powders come in a range of heats so you and your dinner companions
should consider which one to use. Some like it hot and some can barely handle
the mere thought of spice, so where a recipe calls for chilli powder, use your
favourite brand and heat level and, as you cook, always remember to taste and
adjust the seasoning to your personal preference.

Light soy sauce

Light soy sauce is made from fermented soya beans and wheat; it has a strong
aromatic umami and savoury flavour, making it ideal as a marinade, dressing,
sauce and table condiment. Gluten-free soy sauce is also available from some
brands.

Dark soy sauce

Fermented for a much longer time – to produce a rich, dark, sweeter sauce –
dark soy sauce is packed with umami and is perfect for marinades and colouring
your dishes. Look out for tamari for a gluten-free option.

Fish sauce
A liquid condiment made from salted fish which have been left to ferment for up
to two years. Used as a seasoning in many East Asian countries, although more
commonly in Thai and Filipino cooking, it’s packed with umami. It can be used
in cooking or after cooking as a dipping sauce.

Oyster sauce
Discovered by accident in 1888 when a boiling pot of oyster soup was forgotten
on the stove and simmered away to a thick sauce, this is a flavour game changer
with its irresistible umami saltiness. Vegetarians needn’t miss out either, as
mushroom stir-fry sauce is very similar in texture and, as it’s made from dried
shiitake mushrooms and seaweed, it still packs a great umami punch.

Hoisin sauce
A thick fragrant sauce made with fermented soya beans, most commonly used as
a glaze for meats, a dipping condiment or as a stir-fry sauce.

White rice vinegar

Made from fermented rice, this type of vinegar is less acidic and sweeter than its
malt-based counterparts. It is used in dressings, for seasoning dishes and in rice.
Its closest alternative is cider vinegar.

Black rice vinegar

Made from black rice, this type of vinegar has a complex, slightly smoky
flavour. It can be used as an ingredient or as a dipping condiment. It can also be
used in sauces, stir-fries and soups.

Chinese rice wine

Shaoxing wine is a type of Chinese cooking wine, made from rice. It has a
complex sweet flavour. A must-have ingredient and sadly a no-go for the gluten-
free diner as there is a small quantity of wheat involved in the fermentation
process.

Sesame oil
Add the tiniest amount of this oil to marinades or as a drizzle at the very end of
cooking to transform your dish! Use sparingly as it’s packed with flavour and
can easily overpower if used too heavily. Where possible buy pure sesame oil
and not the blended variety, and never cook with it; use only for marinating and
seasoning.

Cooking oils
Oils with a higher smoke point lend themselves better to traditional Chinese
cooking due to the high heat and fast cooking methods used. Suitable varieties
that are readily available include vegetable oil, rapeseed oil, peanut (groundnut)
oil and soya bean oil.

Cornflour (cornstarch)
Used to coat ingredients and create light crispy batters, massaged into meats to
marinate and tenderize or mixed with a splash of water to create a sauce
thickener, this finely textured starch is an all-rounder in Chinese cooking.

Chicken powder
Chicken bouillon powder is a pale yellow colour and used as a seasoning in
many Chinese recipes. The flavour is salty and has a concentrated chicken stock
taste, adding a rich umami flavour to a dish.
EQUIPMENT

Flameproof casserole

A type of cooking pot with a lid that can be used in the oven or on the hob
(stove). The perfect pot to be used when cooking soups, stews, pot roasts and
sauces. If you’re a devoted home cook, you’ll want to buy the best that you can
as it will be used a lot. In terms of size, a 3–4-litre (13¼–17½-cup) casserole will
suit most households.

Wok
Traditional woks were round-bottomed and would sit in a hollow above an open
fire. Originating from China, similar pans to the wok are used widely in most
East Asian countries. The design would concentrate the heat around the bottom
of the wok making it very, very hot, which would cook the food quickly and in
relatively very little oil. Modern versions are designed with a flat bottom so they
are able to sit on your stove top, and most are now nonstick, which means you
no longer need the intense heat to cook the food and can use less oil thanks to
the nonstick surface. A 35cm (14in) wok would be suitable for the average
household.

Clay pot
A piece of cookware that is created under high heat using clay. Clay pots are
often glazed inside but unglazed on the outside. They come with a lid and
sometimes with a wire frame, which helps to hold the shape of the pot when it
expands during cooking. The design makes the pot porous – this allows the heat
and moisture to circulate evenly when cooking, which helps food retain its
nutrients. Meats cooked in a clay pot tend to be a lot juicier and more tender. A
3–4-litre (13¼–17½-cup) pot will work for the majority of recipes in this book.
In China and Hong Kong, the clay pot used for such cooking is generally known
as bōu jái, which translates in Cantonese to ‘little pot’. Clay pot dishes are often
listed as ‘Hot Pot’ dishes on the menu of Chinese restaurants and, if spotted on a
menu, I highly recommend the chicken, salt fish and Chinese mushrooms.

Rice cooker
An automated electrical cooker that has been designed to cook your rice. It has
its own heat source and a bowl to cook the rice within. Wash your rice, add the
correct measure of water, click on the cooker and let it do its thing! A 3–4-litre
(13¼–17½-cup) capacity rice cooker will work for most home cooks.

Pressure cooker
Working on the simple principle of a sealed pot with a lot of steam inside,
creating high pressure to help cook food faster. Meat is incredibly tender when
cooked in a pressure cooker, removing the need to wait long hours for tougher
cuts to achieve melt-in-the-mouth texture. Available in a variety of sizes, a 3–4-
litre (13¼–17½-cup) pressure cooker should suit the average household.

Bamboo steamer
Bamboo steamers have been used in China for the last 5,000 years. They are still
used widely, especially in the cooking and serving of dim sum. To use a steamer,
simply place the food inside and then sit the steamer above a pan of boiling
water – as the steam rises, the food is cooked in the moist heat.

Steamer baskets come in various sizes and can be chosen based on the quantity
of food being steamed. The standard size is 25cm (10in) but consideration also
needs to be given to the size of the pan that will sit under the basket; too large
and the basket will fall in, too small and the steam will simply escape rather than
being collected inside the basket to cook the food.

Baking tray/sheet
A baking tray or baking sheet is a multi-functional, usually rectangular pan used
in the oven and can be useful for baking anything from chicken thighs to almond
cookies. Usually utilized for drier baking.

Baking dish
Much like the baking tray/sheet but deeper and better suited for baking saucier
dishes or roasting meats that will release a lot of juice.

Saucepans
Most kitchens will have an array of pans, from the spouted milk pan to the larger
lidded saucepan. A deep saucepan or frying pan can be used as an alternative to a
wok but the wider bottomed the better if you’re going to substitute this piece of
equipment.

What size to choose?

When choosing the size of any pan, wok or tray, always consider the amount of
ingredients that you are going to be cooking in it, as well as the quantity of
liquid that you’ll be adding or that will be released from the fresh ingredients.
You don’t want the pan or dish to be so full that it’s at risk of bubbling over or
causing a burning spill over your hands when you lift it out of the oven at the
end of cooking, so always make sure you give the ingredients room to breathe
and move around.
SWEET CHILLI BACON BUNS

Salty yet sweet, sticky and crispy, creamy yet spicy; a whole world of
flavour in a delicately buttery bun.

Prep 2 minutes
Cook 10 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

1 tbsp salted butter

2 brioche buns
1 tbsp vegetable or sunflower oil
2 eggs
pinch of sea salt flakes
good pinch of chilli (red pepper) flakes about 5 slices of streaky bacon
60ml (¼ cup) maple syrup
sweet chilli sauce, to serve

Add the butter to a hot wok and, once melted and foamy, cut the brioche buns in
half and place cut-sides down into the butter. Fry for a couple of minutes until
golden brown. Remove from the wok and place to one side, butter-side up.

Wipe the wok clean with kitchen paper, then add the oil and fry your eggs over a
high heat, as you want them to have a crispy bottom. Once cooked to your
liking, place one egg on top of the bottom toasted brioche bun and sprinkle with
the sea salt flakes and chilli (red pepper) flakes.

Add the bacon to the hot wok, cook until golden brown and crispy, then pour in
the maple syrup and continue to cook until the syrup is thickened and sticky.
Arrange the syrupy bacon on top of the eggs and add a good blob of your sweet
chilli sauce, then carefully place the top and bottom halves together to create
brioche bun towers.
YELLOW BEAN PORK WRAPS

A lip-smackingly tasty Chinese twist on the Mexican burrito! Tender strips

of pork dressed in a rich yellow bean sauce and wrapped in a cool, crisp
iceberg leaf.

Prep 10 minutes
Cook 7 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

1 iceberg lettuce
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 garlic clove, minced
thumb-sized piece of ginger, peeled and cut into thin matchsticks 250g (9oz) pork tenderloin,
cut into matchsticks 1 yellow (bell) pepper, deseeded and cut into matchsticks 3 spring
onions (scallions), cut into 5cm (2in) lengths 2 tbsp yellow bean sauce, or hoisin sauce if
preferred 1 tbsp light soy sauce
½ tbsp white rice vinegar
125ml (½ cup) chicken stock
1 tsp cornflour (cornstarch) mixed with 2 tsp water handful of salted cashew nuts

Separate the lettuce leaves, trying to keep them intact; the best way of doing this
is to hold the head of the lettuce by the stalk under a gently running cold tap, and
as the leaves fill with water they peel (intact) away from the head.

Place a wok over a medium-high heat, add the oil along with the garlic and
ginger, then after 20 seconds add the pork, give it all a quick stir and fry for 2
minutes. Add the yellow pepper and spring onions (scallions) and continue to fry
for a further minute. Then add the yellow bean sauce, soy sauce, rice vinegar and
stock. Once boiling, give your cornflour (cornstarch) mixture a mix and slowly
stir into the sauce, a little at a time, until you have your desired consistency.
Once thickened, turn off the heat, sprinkle over the cashew nuts, mix and serve
with the iceberg leaves.
To eat, take a whole iceberg leaf and place 2 tablespoons of pork in the centre,
carefully roll up the leaf and eat like a burrito.
SPICY WOK-BRAISED RICE CAKES

As an alternative to my favourite doubanjiang chilli bean paste, let me

introduce you to its sweeter Korean counterpart, gochujang, equally
pungent with that unmistakable fermented aroma, yet a little more subtle in
flavour.

Prep 10 minutes
Cook 18 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

500g (1lb 2oz) hot pot rice cakes

750ml (3 cups) fish stock
2 tbsp sugar
2 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp light soy sauce
3 tbsp gochujang
5 spring onions (scallions), cut into 5cm (2in) lengths, whites and greens separated 2 tsp chilli
(red pepper) flakes
2 garlic cloves, minced
175g (6oz) fishcake or fish balls, sliced 200g (7oz) Chinese leaf (Napa cabbage), cut into bite-
sized pieces Begin by loosening the rice cakes in warm water, following the packet
instructions.

Add the fish stock, sugar, fish sauce, soy sauce, gochujang paste, spring onion
(scallion) whites, chilli (red pepper) flakes and garlic to a wok and gently bring
to a simmer, stirring to ensure the sugar has dissolved and the ingredients are
well combined. Add the soaked rice cakes and cook for 8–10 minutes until
tender, then add the fishcake and cook for a further 2–3 minutes. Finally, add the
Chinese leaf (Napa cabbage) and spring onion greens and cook for a further 2
minutes. Check for seasoning and, if required, add a little more gochujang paste
or fish sauce to your liking. Transfer to deep serving bowls and tuck in – this is
best served hot.
CHINESE-STYLE MACARONI SOUP

Popular in the street food cafés of Hong Kong and classically topped with
Spam and a fried egg, this soup is the epitome of simple comfort food.

Prep 10 minutes
Cook 20 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Large saucepan

2 tsp vegetable oil or use spray oil 2 celery sticks, cut into bite-sized pieces 1 onion, sliced
thumb-sized piece of ginger, peeled and cut into matchsticks 2 garlic cloves, crushed but left
whole 3 spring onions (scallions), whites cut into 5cm (2in) lengths and greens sliced 2 litres
(8 cups) water
2 tbsp chicken powder (for vegetarian option, use vegetable stock) 2 tbsp light soy sauce
200g (7oz) macaroni
1 tsp sesame oil
salt and white pepper, to taste

For the toppings

Pick and choose any or all of the following topping ingredients, or simply leave them out: 1
cooked chicken breast, shredded
350g (12oz) cooked seafood
150g (5oz) chopped ham
120g (1 cup) peas
8 mushrooms of your choice, thinly sliced 150g (5oz) marinated tofu pieces

Place a 3–4-litre (13¼–17½-cup) saucepan over a medium-low heat, add the oil
along with the celery and onion and fry gently until softened. Next, add the
ginger, garlic and spring onion whites and continue to fry until fragrant. (Do not
have your heat too high as this will caramelize the ingredients and leave you
with black specks in your soup.) Now add the water along with the chicken
powder and light soy sauce and turn up the heat a little. Once the soup is boiling,
add the macaroni, reduce the heat to a simmer, cover and cook for 10 minutes.
Now add any of your toppings and continue to cook gently for a further 5
minutes or until the macaroni is tender and the topping ingredients are hot. Taste
and adjust the seasoning to your liking with white pepper and salt. Transfer to
serving bowls and then sprinkle with the chopped spring onion greens and the
sesame oil.
CHINESE-STYLE OXTAIL SOUP

Big on flavour but light on the body, this typical soup is deliciously
nourishing and packed with healthy vegetables.

Prep 30 minutes
Cook 2 hours 45 minutes
Serves 3–4

Equipment
Casserole

12 dried shiitake (poku) mushrooms 1 tbsp vegetable oil

450–500g (1lb–1lb 2oz) oxtail, cut into bite-sized chunks 125ml (½ cup) Chinese rice wine
(Shaoxing wine) 3 litres (12 cups) beef stock
2 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp brown sugar
thumb-sized piece of ginger, peeled and cut into matchsticks 5 red bird’s-eye chillies, roughly
chopped into pieces 80g (½ cup) raw peanuts
350g (12oz) mooli (daikon), cut into bite-sized pieces 150g (5oz) carrots, peeled and cut into
bite-sized pieces 200g (7oz) bok choy, cut into bite-sized pieces salt and white pepper, to
taste

Place the shiitake (poku) mushrooms in a bowl and pour over boiling water to
rehydrate, leaving them to steep for 20–30 minutes. Drain, remove the tough
stalks and then chop into bite-sized pieces.

Place a medium-large flameproof casserole over a medium-high heat, add the oil
and, once hot, add the oxtail and brown on all sides; this will take about 8–10
minutes. Next, add the Chinese rice wine and deglaze the bottom of the pot.
Once the wine has begun to reduce, you can add the beef stock, fish sauce,
brown sugar, ginger, mushrooms, chillies and peanuts. Bring to the boil and skim
off any foam that accumulates on the surface. Once the foam has been removed,
turn the heat down to a low simmer, cover and cook for 2 hours.

After 2 hours, add the mooli (daikon) and carrot and continue to cook for a
further 20 minutes with the lid on. Once the mooli is tender, bring the soup back
to the boil and add the bok choy, then reduce the heat and simmer for a final 5
minutes. Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt and pepper if required.
WATERCRESS AND GINGER SOUP
WITH MEATBALLS

Rich in vitamins and antioxidants and full of peppery warmth, this light yet
hearty broth with lightly seasoned pork balls is the perfect fix for your
mind, body and soul.

Prep 10 minutes
Cook 12 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Large saucepan
Food processor

2 litres (8 cups) water

palm-sized piece of ginger, peeled and sliced 1½ tbsp chicken powder
2 tbsp light soy sauce
300g (10½oz) fresh watercress
pinch of white pepper
salt, to taste
1 tsp sesame oil

For the meatballs

350g (12oz) minced (ground) pork
1 spring onion (scallion), finely chopped 1 tbsp minced ginger
1 tbsp Chinese rice wine (Shaoxing wine) 2 tbsp light soy sauce
pinch of white pepper
½ tsp chicken powder
¼ tsp sugar
1 egg white
1 tsp cornflour (cornstarch)
vegetable oil, for greasing your hands Place all of the meatball ingredients into a food
processor and mix on medium speed for at least 6 minutes until the mixture becomes thick
and sticky. Now lightly coat your hands in oil and form ping-pong-sized balls with the
mixture. Place on a plate to one side ready for cooking.
In a 3–4-litre (13¼–17½-cup) saucepan, add the water, ginger, chicken powder
and soy sauce and bring to the boil, then add the meatballs and bring the soup
back to the boil before reducing the heat to a simmer. Cook over a low heat for 8
minutes, using a spoon to skim off any froth during cooking. Once the meatballs
are cooked all the way through, add the watercress. Once wilted, add the white
pepper, taste and adjust the seasoning with salt if required. Finally, turn off the
heat, drizzle with the sesame oil and serve warm.
SEAWEED RICE WRAPS

Sushi made simple! Arrange a plateful to serve or enjoy as a ‘build your

own’ sharing platter.

Prep 10 minutes
Cook 30 minutes, plus 15 minutes cooling
Serves 2–3

Equipment
Saucepan

½ cucumber, cut into matchsticks

½ red (bell) pepper, deseeded and cut into matchsticks 100g (3½oz) smoked salmon
145g (5¼oz) tuna mixed with 2 tbsp mayonnaise 1 avocado, sliced
3 tbsp mayonnaise, for spreading
2 tbsp wasabi, for smearing
50g (1¾oz) pickled ginger
6 nori sheets, cut in half
3 tbsp light soy sauce, for dipping

For the rice

500g (1lb 2oz) sushi rice
2 tbsp sugar
½ tsp salt
60ml (¼ cup) white rice vinegar

Place the rice in a saucepan and wash three times in lukewarm water, then add
enough water so it covers the rice approximately 2cm (¾in) above the surface.
Place over a medium-high heat and, once boiling, turn down to a simmer, cover
with a lid and leave to cook for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes turn off the heat
and leave to steam for 15 minutes. Do not remove the lid until the end of the
steaming time.

Dissolve the sugar and salt in the vinegar.

Empty the cooked rice into a large bowl, add the vinegar, salt and sugar mixture
and fold together. You ideally want to keep folding for at least 3–5 minutes to
ensure the vinegar is evenly distributed through the rice. Allow to cool.

Place the remaining ingredients on to serving plates or into bowls.

To build a wrap, take a piece of nori and carefully spread a single layer of rice
across the entire surface, add your fillings to one half, then fold the other half
over the top. Dip in the soy sauce and enjoy.

Kwoklyn’s tip
When adding the water to the rice for cooking, if you level the rice in the pan
and gently touch your middle finger to the top of the rice, the water should just
reach your first knuckle. Of course, everyone’s hands are different, but this is a
great trick that very rarely falls short of a good measure, so give it a try!
OVEN-ROASTED CAPITAL SHORT
RIBS

Melt-in-the-mouth meaty short ribs roasted to the point of falling off the
bone and then smothered in sweet Capital sauce… Need I say more?!

Prep 5 minutes
Cook 3 hours 20 minutes
Serves 3–4

Equipment
Casserole

1.8kg (4lb) bone-in beef ribs, cut into 5–7.5cm (2–3in) pieces (your butcher should be able to
chop these for you) pinch of salt
pinch of black pepper

For the sauce

1 tbsp oyster sauce
6 tbsp tomato ketchup
3 tbsp brown sauce
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tbsp sugar
60ml (¼ cup) chicken stock
pinch of white pepper

Preheat the oven to 140°C (275°F).

Season the ribs with the salt and black pepper, place in a medium flameproof
casserole and roast in the oven for 3 hours, turning every hour. Once the meat
has started to fall off the bone, carefully pour off any cooking liquid.

Combine all the sauce ingredients in a bowl and pour over the ribs, giving them
a quick toss to coat, and then place back in the oven for a further 20 minutes.
Once the glaze is sticky, remove from the oven and serve.
CHAR SIU PORK PASTIES

My take on a dim sum favourite, Char Siu Sou, a juicy sweet pork filling
encased in flaky puff pastry and scattered with nutty sesame seeds. Perfect
as a starter, snack on the go or lunchbox treat.

Prep 20 minutes
Cook 30 minutes, plus 10 minutes cooling
Serves 2–3

Equipment
Baking sheet

3 sheets of ready-rolled puff pastry (approx. 980g/2lb 3oz) 2 eggs, beaten

2 tbsp sesame seeds

For the filling

450g (1lb) minced (ground) pork
1 bunch of spring onions (scallions), finely chopped 2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp grated ginger
5 tbsp hoisin sauce
3 tbsp yellow bean sauce
2 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp Chinese rice wine (Shaoxing wine) 1 tsp Chinese five spice

Preheat the oven to 200°C (400°F).

Place all the filling ingredients in a bowl, mix thoroughly to combine and then
divide into 6 equal portions.

Cut each sheet of pastry in half widthways, then fill one side of each new
rectangle of pastry with filling, ensuring you leave enough room around the edge
to seal. Lightly brush the edges with beaten egg and then fold the empty half of
each rectangle over the filling to create a triangle. Gently press the edges
together to seal, then use a fork to crimp the edges. Once all of your pasties have
been made, brush with egg and then sprinkle with the sesame seeds.
Place the assembled pasties on a non-stick baking sheet and then into your hot
oven to bake for 25–30 minutes or until golden brown and the filling is
completely cooked. Allow to cool for 10 minutes before serving.
BLACK PEPPER AND FIVE SPICE
WINGS

Though not the meatiest part of the chicken, the wings are very popular in
China as they offer more taste and texture than breast meat, plus they are
so inexpensive you can make a huge batch to tuck in to.

Prep 5 minutes
Cook 40 minutes
Serves 4

Equipment
Casserole or wok

900g (2lb) chicken wings

1 tbsp ground black pepper
1 tbsp Chinese five spice
5 tbsp dark soy sauce
2 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced In a large bowl, mix all the ingredients together
(except the spring onions/scallions) and thoroughly coat the chicken wings. Place the wings
bottom up in a flameproof casserole or wok in a single layer, covering the base of the pot
completely, and pour over any remaining marinade.

Place the lid on your casserole or wok and cook over a low heat for 20 minutes
before turning the wings and repeating the process. If all the liquid has
evaporated, pour over a small amount of water, as the wings will need a further
20 minutes (40 minutes in total).

Place the cooked wings on a serving dish, pour over the cooking juices and serve
garnished with the sliced spring onions.
CHINESE SAUSAGE FRIED RICE

Chinese sausage (lap cheong) carries a very distinct smoky sweetness with
an underlying hint of Chinese rice wine, perfect for ramping up the flavour
in this simple fried rice.

Prep 5 minutes
Cook 8 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

2 tbsp vegetable oil

2 eggs, beaten
3 Chinese sausages (lap cheong), thinly sliced 1 onion, diced
3 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced 500g (1lb 2oz) cooked rice, chilled (you can use long
grain or basmati) 60g (½ cup) peas
2 tsp light soy sauce
1 tsp dark soy sauce
1½ tbsp oyster sauce
pinch of white pepper
salt, to taste
2 tsp sesame oil

Place a wok over a medium-high heat, add the oil and, once smoking, add the
beaten eggs. Once the egg is set, stir it lightly to break it up, add the sliced
sausages and cook for a further 2 minutes. Next, add the onion and spring onions
(scallions) and, once these have seared, add the rice. Continue to fry the rice for
2–3 minutes – you want the grains to lightly toast, which will give your dish a
slightly nutty flavour. Once the rice is heated all the way through, add the peas
followed by the light and dark soy sauces, oyster sauce and white pepper. Mix
thoroughly and taste. At this point you can add salt if required. Once you are
happy with the seasoning, turn off the heat and drizzle with the sesame oil.

Transfer to serving bowls and enjoy.

BREAKFAST FRIED RICE

Rice is a staple in most households in China and I’ve been known to start
many a day with a bowl of quick fried rice, stacked out with a selection of
meaty morsels, and topped with a fried egg cooked to crispy perfection
while retaining that creamy yolk for dribbling through the rice. Top it with
a generous dollop of my favourite sweet chilli sauce and I’m good to go!

Prep 5 minutes
Cook 15 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

4 eggs
3 tbsp vegetable oil
200g (7oz) pancetta, cut into cubes
1 small onion, finely diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
150g (5oz) diced cooked smoked sausage or pepperoni 150g (5oz) diced Spam
3 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced 500g (1lb 2oz) cooked rice, chilled (you can use long
grain or basmati) 1 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tsp dark soy sauce
pinch of white pepper
salt, to taste
2 tsp sesame oil

Beat two of the eggs and set to one side.

Place a wok over a medium-high heat, add 1 tablespoon of the oil and, once
smoking, add the pancetta and fry until golden, then add the beaten eggs and
allow to set. Once your egg is cooked, stir it lightly to break it up, then add the
onion, garlic, cubed sausage and Spam and cook for a further 2 minutes. Next,
add the spring onions (scallions) and, once these have seared, add the rice.
Continue to fry the rice for 2–3 minutes – you want the grains to lightly toast,
which will give your dish a slightly nutty flavour. Once the rice is heated all the
way through, add the light and dark soy sauces and white pepper. Mix
thoroughly and taste. At this point you can add salt if required. Once you are
happy with the seasoning, turn off the heat, drizzle with the sesame oil and
transfer to your serving bowls.

Place the wok back over a high heat and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil.
Once smoking, carefully crack the remaining 2 eggs into the oil and fry until
they have a crispy bottom. Flip the eggs over and then immediately place on top
of your rice.

Transfer to serving bowls and tuck in.

YEUNG CHOW (YANGZHOU) RICE

Often called ‘House’ or ‘Special Fried Rice’ on your local Chinese takeaway
or restaurant menu, story has it that the name actually comes from the city
of Yangzhou where sailors were said to have added scraps from their lunch
into fried rice for dinner.

Prep 5 minutes
Cook 10 minutes
Serves 2

Equipment
Wok

2 tbsp vegetable oil

100g (3½oz) pancetta, cut into cubes (or you can use cooked char siu pork) 2 eggs, beaten
150g (5oz) cooked chicken, cut into cubes 60g (½ cup) cooked prawns (shrimp)
3 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced 250g (9oz) cooked rice, chilled (you can use long
grain or basmati) 100g (3½oz) mixed frozen vegetables, defrosted 1 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tsp dark soy sauce
1½ tbsp oyster sauce
pinch of white pepper
salt, to taste
2 tsp sesame oil

Place a wok over a medium-high heat, add the oil and, once smoking, add the
pancetta and fry until golden. Then add the beaten eggs and allow to set in the
wok. Once the egg is cooked, stir it lightly to break it up, then add the chicken
and prawns (shrimp) and cook for a further 2 minutes. Next, add the spring
onions (scallions) and, once these have seared, add the rice and give everything a
good mix. Continue to fry the rice for 2–3 minutes – you want the grains to
lightly toast, which will give the dish a slightly nutty flavour. Once the rice is
heated all the way through, add the mixed vegetables followed by the light and
dark soy sauces, oyster sauce and white pepper. Mix thoroughly and give your
rice a taste. At this point you can add salt if required. Once you are happy with
the seasoning, turn off the heat and drizzle with the sesame oil.
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 CHAPTER VI
THROUGH THE JUNGLE

A pang like the stab of a knife went through Bomba.

“What mean you, Pipina?” he cried. “Speak. Speak fast.”
“We stand up from hole,” the squaw explained. “We find us far in the
jungle away from the headhunters of Nascanora. Yet Casson and
Pipina still afraid.”
“You hide?” asked Bomba.
The old woman nodded, looking about her fearfully.
“We go far, very far, into the jungle,” she said. “We hide behind big
rock. From there we see light from fire. Nascanora he think we are in
hut. He think Casson and Pipina burn like tapir meat on the end of
spit. But Pipina too smart for him. Pipina she fool the great chief
Nascanora.”
Her words ended in a chuckle. There was something so ghastly in
mirth at a scene that had so many elements of tragedy that Bomba
felt the hair rise on his scalp, and he spoke sharply to Pipina.
“You have not told Bomba what happened to Casson. Do not laugh
and say foolish words. Speak wise words and few words. Tell Bomba
of Casson.”
“Ayah!” wailed the squaw. “I look to see the clearing, the cabin. I look
hard. I look long. Pipina’s eyes were turned from Casson. Then I turn
and see him. Then Pipina look again at cabin only as long as for a
monkey to swing from tree to tree. Yet when Pipina turn again—
Casson is gone.”
“Gone!”
Bomba sprang wildly to his feet and looked about him.
“You do not know what way he went?” he asked.
“No, Pipina does not know,” came sadly. “He was gone, and Pipina
did not dare go from behind the rock for fear she be caught by the
bucks of Nascanora.”
“But why should Casson wander off?” asked Bomba, in
bewilderment. “He was safer behind the rock in the company of
Pipina.”
The old woman sighed and touched her forehead again with her
scrawny finger.
“He not right here,” she reminded him. “He not know what he do.
Maybe he go to find Bomba.”
“He cannot find his way anywhere,” declared Bomba sadly. “He will
be like a child in the jungle. He will be at the mercy of the big cats, of
the anacondas, of the other creeping things that watch and spring
upon their prey. Casson might as well have stayed in the hut of fire,
for his death in the jungle is as sure.”
Pipina wrung her hands and continued the rocking motion of her
body.
“He is mad,” she chanted in a singsong voice. “There is a strange
power about him that will keep off evil. The gods will watch over him.
The serpent will not strike him, the jaguar will not spring upon him.
For they know that he is mad and fear him.”
Though Bomba shook his head, the words of Pipina brought a little
comfort to his heart. He knew that the savage beasts of the jungle,
like the savage men of the jungle, had fear of all that was not sane
and shunned it. Still, poor Cody Casson’s feebleness of mind
seemed but a doubtful protection, and Bomba’s heart misgave him.
“When Pipina found that Casson was gone what did she do then?”
he asked, turning to his companion.
“Pipina wait till fire go out and she think Indians go away,” was the
reply. “Then she creep back toward the cabin. She hope Bomba
come back and help her find Casson. Then the thorns catch Pipina
and she stop. She call. Bomba come.”
“Yes, Bomba came—too late,” said the lad sorrowfully. “My heart is
heavy for Casson. Except Pipina, Bomba has no other friend.”
“There is the good chief, Hondura,” suggested Pipina. “He will help
Bomba.”
“Yes, he will help,” assented Bomba wearily. “Bomba will take Pipina
to him where she may rest in the maloca of the good chief. There
she will be safe from the headhunters of Nascanora. Then Bomba
will find Casson.”
But though Bomba spoke with courage, grief possessed him. In his
heart he feared that certain death awaited the ill and feeble Casson
in the jungle.
With a sigh, Bomba turned to Pipina and held out his hand to her.
“Come,” he said. “Bomba and Pipina will go to the camp of Hondura.
It is not safe to stay here longer.”
The old woman shivered and protested.
“It is dark,” she complained. “Wait till the sun rises in the sky and we
shall go more quickly to the camp of the good chief Hondura.”
“In this place there is danger,” returned Bomba, in a low voice,
looking uneasily about him. “Even now the scouts of Nascanora may
have returned to search the ashes of the cabin to make sure that
Casson and Pipina are dead. Besides, they know that Bomba lives,
and they will not sleep well at night until they know that he, too, is
dead. Give Bomba your hand, Pipina. We must go.”
Pipina obeyed without further protest. But she was trembling with
age and the damp chill of the jungle night, and Bomba saw that their
progress to the camp of Hondura and his people must be slow.
“Bomba will carry Pipina when the road is too rough,” promised the
lad. “But by the time the sun rises in the sky we must reach the
maloca of Hondura or we are lost.”
The old woman hobbled on beside him, whimpering.
“Bomba fears nothing, but Pipina is afraid,” she wailed. “There are
evil spirits abroad in the night. They will carry us off and bury us in
the ygapo or feed us to the hungry jaguars.”
“That would be better than to have the hands of Nascanora and his
bucks fall upon us,” replied Bomba grimly. “Besides, Pipina speaks
words that are foolish. There are no evil spirits in the darkness. The
night is kind, for it hides our going from our enemies.”
Bomba spoke in a very low tone, scarcely above a whisper. But
Pipina interrupted him, holding up her hand.
“Listen!” she said. “What was that?”
For answer Bomba seized her by the shoulders and dragged her
down beside him. Surrounded by the thick brush, they were well
concealed from any one who did not pass too close. There was
always a chance of being stumbled upon. But in that event Bomba’s
knife would flash with the quickness of the rattlesnake’s spring, and
its sting would be quite as deadly.
Bomba listened, muscles tensed, every sense alert. Neither he nor
Pipina had been mistaken. They had heard a sound, the sharp
crackling of a twig beneath a stealthy foot.
They heard no more for several seconds. Then, not twenty feet from
them, the brushwood stirred, and from it they saw two figures
emerge and stand faintly outlined against the darker shadows of the
jungle.
Bomba’s first thought was that perhaps the sound he heard had
been caused by Casson. His heart leaped with hope and gladness.
But that feeling was quickly dispelled when he recognized two of the
headhunters of Nascanora.
They stood there conversing in a dialect which Bomba readily
understood, as he did most other languages of the region.
“They are dead,” said one of them. “The fire has made ashes of their
bones. The white witch doctor will no longer lay his spells on the
people of the Giant Cataract.”
Bomba rejoiced. They had not then found Casson.
“It is good,” returned the other. “The squaws and the old men of the
tribe will be glad when we tell them that the man who made bad
magic is dead.”
“But the boy still lives,” returned the other. “Nascanora will not sleep
well until he has his head upon his wigwam. Already this night the
boy has beaten Toluro in fight. He stamped his head into the mud.
And his arrows have carried death on their points.”
“The demons help him,” the other replied. “They come from the fire
and strike down our men. He has the same magic as the old man
with white hair. He is wiser and stronger than our medicine men.”
A few more words, and the Indians passed on, their going scarcely
disturbing a leaf or a twig.
“They pass like the shadows of all things evil,” murmured Bomba to
himself, as he cautiously rose again to his feet and prepared to
resume his journey. “Come, Pipina.”
They made fairly good progress, considering Pipina’s age and
weakness. There was no pausing to take their bearings, for Bomba
was familiar with the way that led to Hondura’s village.
When the strength of the old squaw failed and she could go no
farther, Bomba picked her up in his strong young arms and carried
her with scarcely a lessening of his stride.
After a while they heard the sound of rushing water.
Bomba lowered Pipina to the ground and stood listening.
“The storm has filled the ygapo,” he murmured. “It will be hard
crossing. Listen, Pipina.”
“I hear,” wailed the squaw. “Bomba cannot ford the ygapo. He must
swim, and that will be hard with an old woman on his back. Pipina
cannot swim.”
“There will be caymans in the ygapo,” muttered Bomba thoughtfully.
“Bomba cannot swim with Pipina and fight at the same time. Yet we
must cross the ygapo if we are to be in the camp of the good chief
before the sun comes up.”
“Pipina cannot cross,” whimpered the old woman. “She will be killed
and Bomba too will be killed. Wait here till the darkness goes, and
we will cross by the light of the sun. Bomba can make a raft and we
will go on that.”
“Our enemies are about us,” returned Bomba, as he bent a frowning
look upon the surrounding forest. “If we wait, they will find us and
drag us to the village of Nascanora. We cannot wait. We must go.”
“The river roars,” wailed the squaw, wringing her hands. “It waits for
Bomba and Pipina like a jaguar hungry for its meat. It is death to
cross.”
“A little way from here there is a log across the water,” said Bomba.
“What better bridge do Bomba and Pipina want?”
“The log is slippery,” moaned Pipina. “Bomba must go on. His feet
are sure. But he cannot carry Pipina. He will fall. Bomba go alone.
Leave Pipina behind.”
Ignoring the woman’s protests, Bomba caught her in his arms and
bore her swiftly along the banks of the stream.
He came to the log that stretched from bank to bank of the ygapo, or
swamp. At this point it had narrowed to the proportions of a
moderately wide gully. Usually there was only a muddy ooze at its
bottom.
But now the tropical rains had filled the gully, and a raging torrent
roared between the banks.
Bomba’s bridge would have been but a poor one at the best of times
—a tree trunk cut down close to the bank in such a way as to fall
across the gulch.
Even in the light of day, to cross its moss-grown, treacherous surface
without slipping was no easy matter. Yet Bomba had done it again
and again, for he was as lithe and sure-footed as a mountain goat.
But this was a different matter, and Bomba was well aware of the
danger that he faced. The dashing spray had made the log almost as
slippery as glass. The darkness added to the peril. With Pipina in his
arms it would be difficult to retain his balance. One slip and the two
might go whirling into that seething torrent to a fate that the boy
scarcely dared to think about.
Still the jungle lad did not hesitate. In front was the torrent, behind
him the headhunters. He chose what he regarded as the lesser of
the two evils, relying upon his strength and his sureness of foot to
carry him and his burden to the opposite side.
He shut his ears to the menacing roar of the waters. He had defied
the fury of torrents before. He would defy it again.
Resolutely Bomba set foot upon the log.
 CHAPTER VII
A PERILOUS CROSSING

Beneath him the waters roared and thundered. Pipina whimpered

and besought her gods, but the ears of Bomba were deaf to her
cries.
Underfoot the trunk was like glass. The slightest misstep might mean
disaster. But Bomba advanced steadily, scarcely troubled by the light
weight of the squaw. He was so accustomed to the dark that he
hardly needed the faint rays of moonlight that filtered through the
trees to tell him where to place his feet.
He was half-way across. Now he was more than half. Before him
loomed the dense undergrowth of the farther bank. Suddenly his foot
slipped!
For one horrible moment Bomba teetered over eternity.
Pipina sent up a shrill cry, for she expected that moment to be her
last.
By a marvelous exercise of muscular control, Bomba balanced
himself and retained his foothold upon the log with one foot while he
drew up the other and gradually regained his equilibrium.
But Pipina, in panic, was now squirming about in his arms and
disarranging his calculations. He measured the distance still to be
traversed, staked his all on one swift run, sped across the
treacherous log, and with one last leap reached the farther shore in
safety.
A great joy was singing in his heart as he set Pipina on her feet.
“The gods are with us, Pipina!” he exulted. “Where are your bad
spirits now? Tell Bomba that!”
“We have not yet reached the maloca of Hondura,” the old squaw
reminded him, holding tenaciously to her superstition. “It is not well
to rejoice too soon. We may yet find evil spirits hiding, waiting for us
behind the trees.”
But Bomba laughed such fears to scorn. He was buoyant with
confidence. Fate had been kind to him thus far that night, fate and
his own quick brain and strong arms.
His knowledge of the savages and their ways told him that he and
Pipina had passed through the ring of the headhunters. Moreover,
the maloca of Hondura was now only two hours’ journey away and
through a less tangled part of the jungle.
True, there was not a moment that did not hold possible peril for
them. A boa constrictor might dart from a tree branch and seek to
encircle them in its folds. The roar of a jaguar might prelude its
spring. Every thicket might harbor a bringer of death.
But evil as they were, they were better understood and more easily
dealt with than those human enemies, the men who carried at their
belts the heads of their victims.
Pipina declared now that she was strong enough to walk, and they
made rapid progress through the jungle, and as the first faint heralds
of the dawn appeared in the eastern sky they came within sight of
the maloca, or village, of Hondura, chief of the Araos tribe, the
strongest in that section of the jungle.
When Bomba and his companion reached the outskirts of the native
village they found the inhabitants already astir. The wanderers were
challenged by scouts, for since the advent of the headhunters a strict
watch was kept day and night. But the jungle lad was well known
and liked by the members of the tribe. His popularity with them was
only second to that of the chief himself, for only a few months before,
Bomba had rendered the tribe a service that made him forever
secure in their affections.
So Bomba and Pipina were greeted with every manifestation of
delight by the sentries and brought in triumph into the presence of
the chief.
The little Pirah, the greatly loved daughter of the chief, was with her
father, coaxing and cajoling him as usual for some childish privilege.
She gave a squeal of rapture as she saw Bomba and ran to him,
flinging her arms about his neck.
“Bomba has come back to us!” she cried, in delight. “Bomba will stay.
That make Pirah glad. Pirah very happy.”
Hondura had been watching the meeting with a smile upon his
wizened face. Now he came forward, and his greeting, though not so
demonstrative, was quite as cordial.
“It is good that Bomba is here,” he said. “Bomba has not come for
many moons. Hondura is glad. He will make a feast for Bomba and
all the tribe will rejoice.”
“Hondura has a good heart,” returned the lad. “He speaks good
words and his tongue is not forked. Bomba has come to ask
Hondura to help him. He wants to leave Pipina with him where she
will be safe while he goes on a journey that may take him many
moons.”
“Pipina is welcome in the maloca of Hondura,” replied the chief, as
he turned a kindly look on the old woman, who bowed her head and
stood in meek humility before him. “Pipina can stay with the women
because she is a friend of Bomba, who is a good friend to the tribe of
Hondura.”
The chief motioned them to seat themselves upon the cushions of
rushes within his tepee, and presently food was brought to them
which they devoured eagerly, for they had not eaten since noon of
the day before.
While they ate, Hondura questioned them further, while Pirah sat
close to the jungle lad, every now and then reaching out a timid little
hand to touch him.
“Where is the good white man, Casson?” asked Hondura.
Bomba shook his head sorrowfully.
“Casson has gone away,” he replied. “He has wandered into the
jungle. The headhunters came last night and burned the cabin of
Pipina. Bomba was not there. But when he came he found Pipina
hiding. She did not know where Casson had gone.”
Fire flashed in Hondura’s eyes.
“May the curse of the gods rest on Nascanora,” he cried. “Bomba
should have killed him the night he had him at his mercy.”
The reference was to a happening that had taken place near the
Giant Cataract on a night that Bomba had met Nascanora in the
midst of a perilous and horrifying scene. As the chief had blocked his
path Bomba had sunk the iron hilt of his machete into Nascanora’s
face, knocking him senseless. Hondura had urged then that Bomba
slay Nascanora, but the boy had refused to kill an enemy who could
not fight.
“The point of your knife should have bit into his heart,” went on
Hondura. “Then he would have troubled you no more. Now he hates
you more than before and has sworn to have vengeance. His nose is
crushed, and the squaws laugh at him behind his back, though they
do not dare to smile where he can see them. He would die happy if
he could make Bomba die first.”
Bomba laughed.
“He has yet to catch Bomba,” he replied. “And if he does catch him,
he may wish that he had rather laid his hand upon a cooanaradi. I do
not fear Nascanora. But I fear for Casson.”
“Hondura is sorry that the good old white man has gone,” said the
chief gravely. “Hondura like Casson. All the Araos like him. Wish him
good.”
“The good spirits will be with him in the jungle,” put in little Pirah.
“They will bring him safely to Bomba again or to one of the bucks of
my father.”
Hondura smiled indulgently upon the child and put a hand upon the
dark hair.
“Pirah speaks well,” he remarked. “May the good spirits be with
Casson during his journeyings in the jungle.”
Bomba thanked them both from his heart and addressed himself to
the chief.
“If the good chief meets the white man, Casson, will he bring him to
his maloca and keep him safe until Bomba comes back?” he asked.
“That Hondura will do,” promised the chief gravely.
For a few moments there was silence, while each stared thoughtfully
into the jungle. Then Hondura asked:
“Where does Bomba go now that he speaks of leaving the maloca of
Hondura?”
“I shall not leave yet, Hondura,” he replied. “First, I shall search for
Casson. I will beat every thicket of the jungle until I find him or feel
sure that the gods have taken him. Only after that is done will Bomba
set out on a long journey.”
“The words are dark yet,” replied the chief. “Where is Bomba going?”
“Bomba still seeks his parents,” returned the lad. “He wants to know
about his father and his mother. Even the jaguar’s cubs know their
father and mother. Bomba does not know. His heart will be heavy till
he does know. He has tried to learn the truth for many moons. He
has gone to the land of the Giant Cataract. He has traveled to the
Moving Mountain. He has gone to the snake island of Sobrinini. He
has journeyed many miles and met many dangers, and he does not
yet know the truth.”
“Where does Bomba go now to find the truth?” asked the chief, his
eyes dwelling thoughtfully on the lad.
“I go to seek Japazy, the half-breed,” replied Bomba. “Japazy may
tell Bomba what he wishes to know. Jojasta is gone. Sobrinini is
gone. Casson is gone. Japazy is the one hope of Bomba. If Japazy
is dead—”
He did not finish the sentence, but with a shrug of his shoulder
stared gloomily before him.
There was an interval of silence, and when the chief spoke again it
was in a low and solemn tone.
“Where is it,” he asked, “that Bomba would seek for Japazy, the half-
breed?”
Bomba hesitated for a moment, then spoke:
“I go to a spot where it is said I may find Japazy. I go to Jaguar
Island.”
The stoic calm of the Indian vanished. A look of horror sprang into
his eyes.
 CHAPTER VIII
THE WARNING

The chief of the Araos leaned toward Bomba and spoke in a voice
charged with intensity:
“Hondura is a friend of Bomba. Hondura speaks wise words. If
Bomba is wise, he will stay in the maloca of Hondura and not go to
the island of the big cats.”
Bomba looked puzzled.
“Why does Hondura tell this to Bomba?” he queried.
“Because Hondura is friend of Bomba,” replied the chief gravely. “He
would not see Bomba put his head within the jaws of death.”
“Is it because it is called Jaguar Island?” persisted the lad. “Is it the
big cats Hondura fears?”
The Indian shook his head.
“The danger Hondura fears for Bomba,” he answered impressively,
“is not of this world. It is of the world beyond. Be warned in time,
Bomba. Hondura has spoken.”
Although Bomba had been taught by Casson to laugh at the
superstitions of the natives, he had lived his life too far from
civilization not to share to some extent their primitive fear of the
supernatural.
The words of Hondura sent a strange chill through him. What did the
Indian mean?
“Of what danger speak you, Hondura?” he asked in an awed voice.
“Tell Bomba, so that he may know the truth.”
“Once a great many moons ago,” began Hondura, “there was above
the island of the great cats a big, strange city.”
The eyes of Bomba glistened.
“Tell me of it!” he cried.
“Those that knew of it said it was a city of devils, though its beauty
was that of the sun.”
“What made its beauty like the sun?” was Bomba’s eager query.
“The towers,” replied Hondura, “were of gold and reached upward
like trees to the sky. When men looked upon them long they had to
cover their eyes with their hands. Else they would have gone blind.”
“I wish that the eyes of Bomba might have seen it, Hondura!”
exclaimed the lad. He thought longingly of those faraway cities
described to him by the boy named Frank, the white boy, son of the
woman with the golden hair, who had once kissed Bomba as though
he had been her son. Perhaps this city with towers of gold was like
those others. So he looked eagerly, yearningly, at the wrinkled face
of the grizzled chieftain who spoke with such a calm air of
assurance.
“It is many moons since the eyes of men have rested upon that city,”
returned the Indian sternly, seeming by his manner to rebuke the
boy’s enthusiasm.
Bomba was abashed, but asked with undiminished curiosity:
“What then became of the city of gold, Hondura? Tell Bomba so that
he may know the truth. His heart is thirsty like that of the tapir that
bends its head toward the cool water.”
“The city sank into the earth,” returned Hondura. “Slowly the mud of
the swamp crept up over it and the towers of gold were covered so
that they no more made blind the eyes of men.”
The chief seemed to sink into a reverie after this announcement, and
Bomba ventured to remind him of his presence by asking another
question.
“The city is gone. Where then is the danger to Bomba, O good and
wise chief?”
Hondura roused himself from his abstraction and stared at Bomba
almost as though he were looking through him to something sinister
that lay beyond.
“It is true that the city is gone. But strange ghosts arise from it, spirits
that harm.”
The little Pirah cried out sharply, and Pipina started a long eerie wail
that chilled Bomba to the marrow of his bones.
“The evil spirits walk abroad at night,” the chief continued, “and woe
is the portion of those who meet them. For they carry with them pain
and pestilence and death. Of those who have met them in the
darkness of the night none have come back alive.”
Bomba was impressed despite himself. Nevertheless his
determination remained unshaken.
“The cause of Bomba is a good one,” he said simply. “Bomba does
not fear the evil spirits.”
“Hondura knows that Bomba does not fear anything living,” the chief
responded. “But he has no arrow that will sink into the breasts of the
dead. He has no knife that can reach their hearts. They will not fear
when Bomba defies them. They will laugh.”
“I am going,” the lad declared.
The old chief nodded his head as though, knowing Bomba, he had
expected some such answer from the boy.
“Go then. But go only to the island of the big cats. Do not go to the
place above the island where the city with the towers of gold stood.
Find Japazy, the half-breed, and return with speed. Hondura and the
little Pirah will watch for you. And we will have prayers made by the
medicine man that you do not meet the evil spirits.”
“But do not go yet,” pleaded Pirah, clinging to his hand. “Pirah wants
you to stay days, many days. You are tired. You have been fighting.
We will make big feast if you will stay in the maloca of Hondura for a
time.”
Bomba returned the pressure of the warm little hand affectionately.
“Pirah is good and Hondura too is good,” he said earnestly. “Bomba
would be glad to stay. But he must go.”
He turned to the chief.
“I go first into the jungle to hunt for Casson,” he said. “I will look for
him till I find him or feel sure that he is dead. If I find him, I will bring
him back to stay with Hondura. If I do not find him, I will go on to find
Japazy on Jaguar Island.”
Pipina set up a wail, but Bomba checked her.
“Do not cry, Pipina,” he said. “Bomba has many times gone into the
jungle and come back again. Did he not go to the Moving Mountain
and return? Did he not come back from the Giant Cataract and the
island of snakes? The gods will watch over me, and you can stay
here safe with the women of Hondura’s tribe and help them with their
cooking and their weaving. And you can tell them of the hole in the
floor and how you were wiser than all the warriors of Nascanora.”
The last was cunningly put, and the look of pride that came into the
old woman’s eyes showed that if the Araos women failed to
appreciate her strategy it would not be for lack of telling.
Bomba turned to the chief.
“Your heart is big, Hondura, and your heart is good,” he said.
“Bomba will not forget.”
“It is but little that Hondura is doing for Bomba,” the old chieftain
replied. “Did not Bomba save my people? Did he not bring back the
women and little children that Nascanora’s bucks had stolen? My
people would die for Bomba. And I will tell my braves to hunt for
Casson. Wherever they go their eyes will be open for the old white
man. They will be looking while Bomba is on his way to Jaguar
Island. And if he is alive, they will find him.”
The assurance was an immense comfort to the heart of Bomba. If
his own search for Casson failed, he would know that a host of sharp
eyes were taking up his work. All that could be done would be done
for the old man he loved.
He stayed at the maloca only long enough to get some more strings
for his bow and to replenish his stock of arrows and put an additional
edge on his machete. Then, with a warm farewell to Hondura, Pirah,
Pipina, and the assembled people of the tribe, he plunged into the
jungle.
He thought longingly of the “fire stick” and the cartridges that had
been destroyed in the blazing cabin. He took the now useless
revolver from his pouch where he carried it in a waterproof covering
and looked at it sadly. It was a fine weapon, and he had learned to
use it effectively, though not yet with the perfect accuracy of the
machete and the bow and arrows.
“The fire stick might not hurt the ghosts from the sunken city,” he
pondered, as he turned the revolver lovingly in his hands; “but
against the beasts of the jungle and the braves of Nascanora it
speaks with the voice of death. And who knows but what it might
save my life when I reach the place of the big cats.”
Again his anger flamed against the headhunters.
“They may still, by robbing me of my cartridges, be the cause of my
death,” he murmured.
But he had the fatalistic philosophy born of his life in the jungle. The
cartridges were gone. He could not help it. Perhaps it had been
decreed. Who was he, Bomba, to find fault with the laws that
governed the world?
For all the rest of that day he hunted feverishly for some trace of
Casson. Hardly a foot of ground escaped his eager scrutiny. He
searched every thicket, explored every swamp. At times, when he
felt it was safe, he raised his voice in the hope that perhaps Casson
might hear him. But all his efforts were fruitless. There was no trace
or sound of his half-demented protector.
During his search he had gathered some turtle eggs, and these he
roasted at night over a fire before the opening of a cave that he had
chosen for the night’s shelter.
The food was succulent, the fire comforting, and the cave reasonably
safe. Bomba built up the fire so that it should serve through the night
to keep off the prowling denizens of the forest, and made his refuge
secure by rolling a great stone that no animal could dislodge to the
entrance of the cave.
Then he lay down and slept, not opening his tired eyes till the first
break of dawn.
All that day and the next Bomba hunted for Cody Casson. He had
given himself three days before he would relinquish the quest as
hopeless.
Occasionally he came upon traces of the headhunters. But the
tracks were cold, and Bomba calculated that they were at least five
days old. If the bucks were in that region at all, they were probably
lurking in the vicinity of the cabin, where, soon or late, they could
count on Bomba’s reappearance.
Toward the evening of the third day Bomba caught sight of
something strange lying at the roots of a great tree in one of the
most extensive swamps with which the region abounded.
At first sight it looked like a crumpled heap of rags. Bomba’s thought
was that it was the remains of an old hammock or native rug thrown
aside as useless.
But there was something in the shape of it that made him revise his
opinion, and he approached it with the caution that he always used
when in the presence of something which he did not understand.
When at last he stood beside it he started back with a gasp.
It was a skeleton that lay there amid the shreds of garments that had
previously clothed the body!
Bomba had seen such grisly sights before. They were not
uncommon in the jungle, where natives without number met their
end by the jaws of the puma and the fangs of the snake.
No, it was not the mere sight of a skeleton that made Bomba start so
violently.
It was the fact that the skeleton was that of a white man!
 CHAPTER IX
THE SKELETON

Bomba knew at once that the poor remnant of humanity that lay
before him was not that of a native of the country.
He knew it by the character of the hair that still adhered to the scalp,
by the fragments of skin that still were in evidence.
And he knew by the clothes, which, though tattered into shreds, were
similar to those that had been worn by Gillis and Dorn, by the men of
the Parkhurst family. They were of heavy khaki cut after the civilized
fashion.
Some hunter, no doubt; a hunter after big game or a hunter of rubber
trees, who had come into the dark recesses of the Amazonian
jungle.
Various signs indicated that the body had been there for some time.
How the man had died would never be known. Somewhere in the
civilized world he was marked down as “missing.” The jungle kept its
secrets well.
Bomba stood looking down at the skeleton with a strange feeling in
his heart. This man had been white! He had been a brother to
Bomba, of the same blood, of the same race! A sense of kinship
tugged at the lad’s heart.
And because he had been white, Bomba determined that the poor
remains should have decent burial. He sought out a suitable piece of
wood and with his machete fashioned a rude spade. With this he set
to work and soon had dug a grave in the soft and muddy ground.
He lifted the skeleton reverently and bore it to the grave. As he did
so, something dropped with a metallic sound. He paid no attention to
this at the moment, but bestowed the bones carefully in the grave.