Chapter 17
Meriem returned slowly toward the tree in which she had left her skirt,her shoes and her stockings. She was singing blithely; but her songcame to a sudden stop when she came within sight of the tree, forthere, disporting themselves with glee and pulling and hauling upon herbelongings, were a number of baboons. When they saw her they showed nosigns of terror. Instead they bared their fangs and growled at her.What was there to fear in a single she-Tarmangani? Nothing, absolutelynothing.
In the open plain beyond the forest the hunters were returning from theday's sport. They were widely separated, hoping to raise a wanderinglion on the homeward journey across the plain. The Hon. MorisonBaynes rode closest to the forest. As his eyes wandered back and forthacross the undulating, shrub sprinkled ground they fell upon the formof a creature close beside the thick jungle where it terminatedabruptly at the plain's edge.
He reined his mount in the direction of his discovery. It was yet toofar away for his untrained eyes to recognize it; but as he came closerhe saw that it was a horse, and was about to resume the originaldirection of his way when he thought that he discerned a saddle uponthe beast's back. He rode a little closer. Yes, the animal wassaddled. The Hon. Morison approached yet nearer, and as he did so hiseyes expressed a pleasurable emotion of anticipation, for they had nowrecognized the pony as the special favorite of Meriem.
He galloped to the animal's side. Meriem must be within the wood. Theman shuddered a little at the thought of an unprotected girl alone inthe jungle that was still, to him, a fearful place of terrors andstealthily stalking death. He dismounted and left his horse besideMeriem's. On foot he entered the jungle. He knew that she wasprobably safe enough and he wished to surprise her by coming suddenlyupon her.
He had gone but a short distance into the wood when he heard a greatjabbering in a near-by tree. Coming closer he saw a band of baboonssnarling over something. Looking intently he saw that one of them helda woman's riding skirt and that others had boots and stockings. Hisheart almost ceased to beat as he quite naturally placed the mostdireful explanation upon the scene. The baboons had killed Meriem andstripped this clothing from her body. Morison shuddered.
He was about to call aloud in the hope that after all the girl stilllived when he saw her in a tree close beside that was occupied by thebaboons, and now he saw that they were snarling and jabbering at her.To his amazement he saw the girl swing, ape-like, into the tree belowthe huge beasts. He saw her pause upon a branch a few feet from thenearest baboon. He was about to raise his rifle and put a bulletthrough the hideous creature that seemed about to leap upon her when heheard the girl speak. He almost dropped his rifle from surprise as astrange jabbering, identical with that of the apes, broke from Meriem'slips.
The baboons stopped their snarling and listened. It was quite evidentthat they were as much surprised as the Hon. Morison Baynes. Slowlyand one by one they approached the girl. She gave not the slightestevidence of fear of them. They quite surrounded her now so that Baynescould not have fired without endangering the girl's life; but he nolonger desired to fire. He was consumed with curiosity.
For several minutes the girl carried on what could be nothing less thana conversation with the baboons, and then with seeming alacrity everyarticle of her apparel in their possession was handed over to her. Thebaboons still crowded eagerly about her as she donned them. Theychattered to her and she chattered back. The Hon. Morison Baynes satdown at the foot of a tree and mopped his perspiring brow. Then herose and made his way back to his mount.
When Meriem emerged from the forest a few minutes later she found himthere, and he eyed her with wide eyes in which were both wonder and asort of terror.
"I saw your horse here," he explained, "and thought that I would waitand ride home with you--you do not mind?"
"Of course not," she replied. "It will be lovely."
As they made their way stirrup to stirrup across the plain the Hon.Morison caught himself many times watching the girl's regular profileand wondering if his eyes had deceived him or if, in truth, he reallyhad seen this lovely creature consorting with grotesque baboons andconversing with them as fluently as she conversed with him. The thingwas uncanny--impossible; yet he had seen it with his own eyes.
And as he watched her another thought persisted in obtruding itselfinto his mind. She was most beautiful and very desirable; but what didhe know of her? Was she not altogether impossible? Was the scene thathe had but just witnessed not sufficient proof of her impossibility? Awoman who climbed trees and conversed with the baboons of the jungle!It was quite horrible!
Again the Hon. Morison mopped his brow. Meriem glanced toward him.
"You are warm," she said. "Now that the sun is setting I find it quitecool. Why do you perspire now?"
He had not intended to let her know that he had seen her with thebaboons; but quite suddenly, before he realized what he was saying, hehad blurted it out.
"I perspire from emotion," he said. "I went into the jungle when Idiscovered your pony. I wanted to surprise you; but it was I who wassurprised. I saw you in the trees with the baboons."
"Yes?" she said quite unemotionally, as though it was a matter oflittle moment that a young girl should be upon intimate terms withsavage jungle beasts.
"It was horrible!" ejaculated the Hon. Morison.
"Horrible?" repeated Meriem, puckering her brows in bewilderment."What was horrible about it? They are my friends. Is it horrible totalk with one's friends?"
"You were really talking with them, then?" cried the Hon. Morison."You understood them and they understood you?"
"Certainly."
"But they are hideous creatures--degraded beasts of a lower order. Howcould you speak the language of beasts?"
"They are not hideous, and they are not degraded," replied Meriem."Friends are never that. I lived among them for years before Bwanafound me and brought me here. I scarce knew any other tongue than thatof the mangani. Should I refuse to know them now simply because Ihappen, for the present, to live among humans?"
"For the present!" ejaculated the Hon. Morison. "You cannot mean thatyou expect to return to live among them? Come, come, what foolishnessare we talking! The very idea! You are spoofing me, Miss Meriem. Youhave been kind to these baboons here and they know you and do notmolest you; but that you once lived among them--no, that ispreposterous."
"But I did, though," insisted the girl, seeing the real horror that theman felt in the presence of such an idea reflected in his tone andmanner, and rather enjoying baiting him still further. "Yes, I lived,almost naked, among the great apes and the lesser apes. I dwelt amongthe branches of the trees. I pounced upon the smaller prey anddevoured it--raw. With Korak and A'ht I hunted the antelope and theboar, and I sat upon a tree limb and made faces at Numa, the lion, andthrew sticks at him and annoyed him until he roared so terribly in hisrage that the earth shook.
"And Korak built me a lair high among the branches of a mighty tree.He brought me fruits and flesh. He fought for me and was kind tome--until I came to Bwana and My Dear I do not recall that any otherthan Korak was ever kind to me." There was a wistful note in thegirl's voice now and she had forgotten that she was bantering the Hon.Morison. She was thinking of Korak. She had not thought of him agreat deal of late.
For a time both were silently absorbed in their own reflections as theyrode on toward the bungalow of their host. The girl was thinking of agod-like figure, a leopard skin half concealing his smooth, brown hideas he leaped nimbly through the trees to lay an offering of food beforeher on his return from a successful hunt. Behind him, shaggy andpowerful, swung a huge anthropoid ape, while she, Meriem, laughing andshouting her welcome, swung upon a swaying limb before the entrance toher sylvan bower. It was a pretty picture as she recalled it. Theother side seldom obtruded itself upon her memory--the long, blacknights--the chill, terrible jungle nights--the cold and damp anddiscomfort of the rainy season--the hideous mouthings o
f the savagecarnivora as they prowled through the Stygian darkness beneath--theconstant menace of Sheeta, the panther, and Histah, the snake--thestinging insects--the loathesome vermin. For, in truth, all these hadbeen outweighed by the happiness of the sunny days, the freedom of itall, and, most, the companionship of Korak.
The man's thoughts were rather jumbled. He had suddenly realized thathe had come mighty near falling in love with this girl of whom he hadknown nothing up to the previous moment when she had voluntarilyrevealed a portion of her past to him. The more he thought upon thematter the more evident it became to him that he had given her hislove--that he had been upon the verge of offering her his honorablename. He trembled a little at the narrowness of his escape. Yet, hestill loved her. There was no objection to that according to theethics of the Hon. Morison Baynes and his kind. She was a meaner claythan he. He could no more have taken her in marriage than he couldhave taken one of her baboon friends, nor would she, of course, expectsuch an offer from him. To have his love would be sufficient honor forher--his name he would, naturally, bestow upon one in his own elevatedsocial sphere.
A girl who had consorted with apes, who, according to her ownadmission, had lived almost naked among them, could have noconsiderable sense of the finer qualities of virtue. The love that hewould offer her, then, would, far from offending her, probably coverall that she might desire or expect.
The more the Hon. Morison Baynes thought upon the subject the morefully convinced he became that he was contemplating a most chivalrousand unselfish act. Europeans will better understand his point of viewthan Americans, poor, benighted provincials, who are denied a trueappreciation of caste and of the fact that "the king can do no wrong."He did not even have to argue the point that she would be much happieramidst the luxuries of a London apartment, fortified as she would be byboth his love and his bank account, than lawfully wed to such a one asher social position warranted. There was one question however, whichhe wished to have definitely answered before he committed himself evento the program he was considering.
"Who were Korak and A'ht?" he asked.
"A'ht was a Mangani," replied Meriem, "and Korak a Tarmangani."
"And what, pray, might a Mangani be, and a Tarmangani?"
The girl laughed.
"You are a Tarmangani," she replied. "The Mangani are covered withhair--you would call them apes."
"Then Korak was a white man?" he asked.
"Yes."
"And he was--ah--your--er--your--?" He paused, for he found it ratherdifficult to go on with that line of questioning while the girl'sclear, beautiful eyes were looking straight into his.
"My what?" insisted Meriem, far too unsophisticated in her unspoiledinnocence to guess what the Hon. Morison was driving at.
"Why--ah--your brother?" he stumbled.
"No, Korak was not my brother," she replied.
"Was he your husband, then?" he finally blurted.
Far from taking offense, Meriem broke into a merry laugh.
"My husband!" she cried. "Why how old do you think I am? I am tooyoung to have a husband. I had never thought of such a thing. Korakwas--why--," and now she hesitated, too, for she never before hadattempted to analyse the relationship that existed between herself andKorak--"why, Korak was just Korak," and again she broke into a gaylaugh as she realized the illuminating quality of her description.
Looking at her and listening to her the man beside her could notbelieve that depravity of any sort or degree entered into the girl'snature, yet he wanted to believe that she had not been virtuous, forotherwise his task was less a sinecure--the Hon. Morison was notentirely without conscience.
For several days the Hon. Morison made no appreciable progress towardthe consummation of his scheme. Sometimes he almost abandoned it forhe found himself time and again wondering how slight might be theprovocation necessary to trick him into making a bona-fide offer ofmarriage to Meriem if he permitted himself to fall more deeply in lovewith her, and it was difficult to see her daily and not love her.There was a quality about her which, all unknown to the Hon. Morison,was making his task an extremely difficult one--it was that quality ofinnate goodness and cleanness which is a good girl's stoutest bulwarkand protection--an impregnable barrier that only degeneracy has theeffrontery to assail. The Hon. Morison Baynes would never beconsidered a degenerate.
He was sitting with Meriem upon the verandah one evening after theothers had retired. Earlier they had been playing tennis--a game inwhich the Hon. Morison shone to advantage, as, in truth, he did in mostall manly sports. He was telling Meriem stories of London and Paris,of balls and banquets, of the wonderful women and their wonderfulgowns, of the pleasures and pastimes of the rich and powerful. TheHon. Morison was a past master in the art of insidious boasting. Hisegotism was never flagrant or tiresome--he was never crude in it, forcrudeness was a plebeianism that the Hon. Morison studiously avoided,yet the impression derived by a listener to the Hon. Morison was onethat was not at all calculated to detract from the glory of the houseof Baynes, or from that of its representative.
Meriem was entranced. His tales were like fairy stories to this littlejungle maid. The Hon. Morison loomed large and wonderful andmagnificent in her mind's eye. He fascinated her, and when he drewcloser to her after a short silence and took her hand she thrilled asone might thrill beneath the touch of a deity--a thrill of exaltationnot unmixed with fear.
He bent his lips close to her ear.
"Meriem!" he whispered. "My little Meriem! May I hope to have theright to call you 'my little Meriem'?"
The girl turned wide eyes upward to his face; but it was in shadow.She trembled but she did not draw away. The man put an arm about herand drew her closer.
"I love you!" he whispered.
She did not reply. She did not know what to say. She knew nothing oflove. She had never given it a thought; but she did know that it wasvery nice to be loved, whatever it meant. It was nice to have peoplekind to one. She had known so little of kindness or affection.
"Tell me," he said, "that you return my love."
His lips came steadily closer to hers. They had almost touched when avision of Korak sprang like a miracle before her eyes. She saw Korak'sface close to hers, she felt his lips hot against hers, and then forthe first time in her life she guessed what love meant. She drew away,gently.
"I am not sure," she said, "that I love you. Let us wait. There isplenty of time. I am too young to marry yet, and I am not sure that Ishould be happy in London or Paris--they rather frighten me."
How easily and naturally she had connected his avowal of love with theidea of marriage! The Hon. Morison was perfectly sure that he had notmentioned marriage--he had been particularly careful not to do so. Andthen she was not sure that she loved him! That, too, came rather inthe nature of a shock to his vanity. It seemed incredible that thislittle barbarian should have any doubts whatever as to the desirabilityof the Hon. Morison Baynes.
The first flush of passion cooled, the Hon. Morison was enabled toreason more logically. The start had been all wrong. It would bebetter now to wait and prepare her mind gradually for the onlyproposition which his exalted estate would permit him to offer her. Hewould go slow. He glanced down at the girl's profile. It was bathedin the silvery light of the great tropic moon. The Hon. MorisonBaynes wondered if it were to be so easy a matter to "go slow." Shewas most alluring.
Meriem rose. The vision of Korak was still before her.
"Good night," she said. "It is almost too beautiful to leave," shewaved her hand in a comprehensive gesture which took in the starryheavens, the great moon, the broad, silvered plain, and the denseshadows in the distance, that marked the jungle. "Oh, how I love it!"
"You would love London more," he said earnestly. "And London wouldlove you. You would be a famous beauty in any capital of Europe. Youwould have the world at your feet, Meriem."
"Good night!" she repeated, and left him.
The Ho
n. Morison selected a cigarette from his crested case, lightedit, blew a thin line of blue smoke toward the moon, and smiled.
The Son of Tarzan Page 17