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r r
bonds that had been about her ankles for so long had stopped
circulation and partially paralyzed her extremities.
Had this not been the case the escape of the two would have
been a feat of little moment, since Meriem was scarcely a whit
less agile than Korak, and fully as much at home in the trees
as he. But with the girl on his shoulder Korak could not both
run and fight to advantage, and the result was that before he had
covered half the distance to the tree a score of native curs
attracted by the yelping of their mate and the yells and shouts of
their masters had closed in upon the fleeing white man, snapping
at his legs and at last succeeding in tripping him. As he went
down the hyena-like brutes were upon him, and as he struggled
to his feet the blacks closed in.
A couple of them seized the clawing, biting Meriem, and
subdued her--a blow upon the head was sufficient. For the ape-
man they found more drastic measures would be necessary.
Weighted down as he was by dogs and warriors he still managed
to struggle to his feet. To right and left he swung crushing blows
to the faces of his human antagonists--to the dogs he paid not
the slightest attention other than to seize the more persistent and
wring their necks with a single quick movement of the wrist.
A knob stick aimed at him by an ebon Hercules he caught and
wrested from his antagonist, and then the blacks experienced to
the full the possibilities for punishment that lay within those
smooth flowing muscles beneath the velvet brown skin of the
strange, white giant. He rushed among them with all the force
and ferocity of a bull elephant gone mad. Hither and thither he
charged striking down the few who had the temerity to stand
against him, and it was evident that unless a chance spear thrust
brought him down he would rout the entire village and regain
his prize. But old Kovudoo was not to be so easily robbed of
the ransom which the girl represented, and seeing that their
attack which had up to now resulted in a series of individual
combats with the white warrior, he called his tribesmen off, and
forming them in a compact body about the girl and the two who
watched over her bid them do nothing more than repel the assaults
of the ape-man.
Again and again Korak rushed against this human barricade
bristling with spear points. Again and again he was repulsed,
often with severe wounds to caution him to greater wariness.
From head to foot he was red with his own blood, and at last,
weakening from the loss of it, he came to the bitter realization
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r r
that alone he could do no more to succor his Meriem.
Presently an idea flashed through his brain. He called aloud
to the girl. She had regained consciousness now and replied.
"Korak goes," he shouted; "but he will return and take you
from the Gomangani. Good-bye, my Meriem. Korak will come
for you again."
"Good-bye!" cried the girl. "Meriem will look for you until
you come."
Like a flash, and before they could know his intention or
prevent him, Korak wheeled, raced across the village and with
a single leap disappeared into the foliage of the great tree that
was his highroad to the village of Kovudoo. A shower of spears
followed him, but their only harvest was a taunting laugh flung
back from out the darkness of the jungle.
Chapter 13
Meriem, again bound and under heavy guard in Kovudoo's own hut,
saw the night pass and the new day come without bringing the
momentarily looked for return of Korak. She had no doubt but
that he would come back and less still that he would easily
free her from her captivity. To her Korak was little short
of omnipotent. He embodied for her all that was finest and
strongest and best in her savage world. She gloried in his
prowess and worshipped him for the tender thoughtfulness
that always had marked his treatment of her. No other within
the ken of her memory had ever accorded her the love and
gentleness that was his daily offering to her. Most of the
gentler attributes of his early childhood had long since been
forgotten in the fierce battle for existence which the customs
of the mysterious jungle had forced upon him. He was more often
savage and bloodthirsty than tender and kindly. His other friends
of the wild looked for no gentle tokens of his affection. That he
would hunt with them and fight for them was sufficient. If he
growled and showed his fighting fangs when they trespassed upon
his inalienable rights to the fruits of his kills they felt no
anger toward him--only greater respect for the efficient and the
fit--for him who could not only kill but protect the flesh of his kill.
But toward Meriem he always had shown more of his human side.
He killed primarily for her. It was to the feet of Meriem that
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r r
he brought the fruits of his labors. It was for Meriem more
than for himself that he squatted beside his flesh and growled
ominously at whosoever dared sniff too closely to it. When he
was cold in the dark days of rain, or thirsty in a prolonged
drouth, his discomfort engendered first of all thoughts of
Meriem's welfare--after she had been made warm, after her
thirst had been slaked, then he turned to the affair of
ministering to his own wants.
The softest skins fell gracefully from the graceful shoulders
of his Meriem. The sweetest-scented grasses lined her bower
where other soft, furry pelts made hers the downiest couch in
all the jungle.
What wonder then that Meriem loved her Korak? But she loved him
as a little sister might love a big brother who was very good
to her. As yet she knew naught of the love of a maid for a man.
So now as she lay waiting for him she dreamed of him and of
all that he meant to her. She compared him with The Sheik,
her father, and at thought of the stern, grizzled, old Arab
she shuddered. Even the savage blacks had been less harsh to
her than he. Not understanding their tongue she could not guess
what purpose they had in keeping her a prisoner. She knew that
man ate man, and she had expected to be eaten; but she had
been with them for some time now and no harm had befallen her.
She did not know that a runner had been dispatched to the distant
village of The Sheik to barter with him for a ransom. She did
not know, nor did Kovudoo, that the runner had never reached
his destination--that he had fallen in with the safari of
Jenssen and Malbihn and with the talkativeness of a native to
other natives had unfolded his whole mission to the black servants
of the two Swedes. These had not been long in retailing the matter
to their masters, and the result was that when the runner left
their camp to continue his journey he had scarce passed from
sight before there came the report of a rifle and he rolled
lifeless into the underbrush with a bullet in his back.
A few moments later Malbihn strolled back into the encampment,
where he went to some pains to let it be known that he had
had a shot at a fine buck and missed. The Swedes knew that
their men hated them, and that an overt act against Kovudoo
would quickly be carried to the chief at the first opportunity.
Nor were they sufficiently strong in either guns or loyal
followers to risk antagonizing the wily old chief.
Following this episode came the encounter with the baboons and
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