Chapter 20
It was still dark when the Hon. Morison Baynes set forth for thetrysting place. He insisted upon having a guide, saying that he wasnot sure that he could find his way back to the little clearing. As amatter of fact the thought of that lonely ride through the darknessbefore the sun rose had been too much for his courage, and he cravedcompany. A black, therefore, preceded him on foot. Behind and abovehim came Korak, whom the noise in the camp had awakened.
It was nine o'clock before Baynes drew rein in the clearing. Meriemhad not yet arrived. The black lay down to rest. Baynes lolled in hissaddle. Korak stretched himself comfortably upon a lofty limb, wherehe could watch those beneath him without being seen.
An hour passed. Baynes gave evidence of nervousness. Korak hadalready guessed that the young Englishman had come here to meetanother, nor was he at all in doubt as to the identity of that other.The Killer was perfectly satisfied that he was soon again to see thenimble she who had so forcefully reminded him of Meriem.
Presently the sound of an approaching horse came to Korak's ears. Shewas coming! She had almost reached the clearing before Baynes becameaware of her presence, and then as he looked up, the foliage parted tothe head and shoulders of her mount and Meriem rode into view. Baynesspurred to meet her. Korak looked searchingly down upon her, mentallyanathematizing the broad-brimmed hat that hid her features from hiseyes. She was abreast the Englishman now. Korak saw the man take bothher hands and draw her close to his breast. He saw the man's faceconcealed for a moment beneath the same broad brim that hid the girl's.He could imagine their lips meeting, and a twinge of sorrow and sweetrecollection combined to close his eyes for an instant in thatinvoluntary muscular act with which we attempt to shut out from themind's eye harrowing reflections.
When he looked again they had drawn apart and were conversingearnestly. Korak could see the man urging something. It was equallyevident that the girl was holding back. There were many of hergestures, and the way in which she tossed her head up and to the right,tip-tilting her chin, that reminded Korak still more strongly ofMeriem. And then the conversation was over and the man took the girlin his arms again to kiss her good-bye. She turned and rode toward thepoint from which she had come. The man sat on his horse watching her.At the edge of the jungle she turned to wave him a final farewell.
"Tonight!" she cried, throwing back her head as she called the words tohim across the little distance which separated them--throwing back herhead and revealing her face for the first time to the eyes of TheKiller in the tree above. Korak started as though pierced through theheart with an arrow. He trembled and shook like a leaf. He closed hiseyes, pressing his palms across them, and then he opened them again andlooked but the girl was gone--only the waving foliage of the jungle'srim marked where she had disappeared. It was impossible! It could notbe true! And yet, with his own eyes he had seen his Meriem--older alittle, with figure more rounded by nearer maturity, and subtly changedin other ways; more beautiful than ever, yet still his little Meriem.Yes, he had seen the dead alive again; he had seen his Meriem in theflesh. She lived! She had not died! He had seen her--he had seen hisMeriem--IN THE ARMS OF ANOTHER MAN! And that man sat below him now,within easy reach. Korak, The Killer, fondled his heavy spear. Heplayed with the grass rope dangling from his gee-string. He strokedthe hunting knife at his hip. And the man beneath him called to hisdrowsy guide, bent the rein to his pony's neck and moved off toward thenorth. Still sat Korak, The Killer, alone among the trees. Now hishands hung idly at his sides. His weapons and what he had intendedwere forgotten for the moment. Korak was thinking. He had noted thatsubtle change in Meriem. When last he had seen her she had been hislittle, half-naked Mangani--wild, savage, and uncouth. She had notseemed uncouth to him then; but now, in the change that had come overher, he knew that such she had been; yet no more uncouth than he, andhe was still uncouth.
In her had taken place the change. In her he had just seen a sweet andlovely flower of refinement and civilization, and he shuddered as herecalled the fate that he himself had planned for her--to be the mateof an ape-man, his mate, in the savage jungle. Then he had seen nowrong in it, for he had loved her, and the way he had planned had beenthe way of the jungle which they two had chosen as their home; but now,after having seen the Meriem of civilized attire, he realized thehideousness of his once cherished plan, and he thanked God that chanceand the blacks of Kovudoo had thwarted him.
Yet he still loved her, and jealousy seared his soul as he recalled thesight of her in the arms of the dapper young Englishman. What were hisintentions toward her? Did he really love her? How could one not loveher? And she loved him, of that Korak had had ample proof. Had shenot loved him she would not have accepted his kisses. His Meriem lovedanother! For a long time he let that awful truth sink deep, and fromit he tried to reason out his future plan of action. In his heart wasa great desire to follow the man and slay him; but ever there rose inhis consciousness the thought: She loves him. Could he slay thecreature Meriem loved? Sadly he shook his head. No, he could not.Then came a partial decision to follow Meriem and speak with her. Hehalf started, and then glanced down at his nakedness and was ashamed.He, the son of a British peer, had thus thrown away his life, had thusdegraded himself to the level of a beast that he was ashamed to go tothe woman he loved and lay his love at her feet. He was ashamed to goto the little Arab maid who had been his jungle playmate, for what hadhe to offer her?
For years circumstances had prevented a return to his father andmother, and at last pride had stepped in and expunged from his mind thelast vestige of any intention to return. In a spirit of boyishadventure he had cast his lot with the jungle ape. The killing of thecrook in the coast inn had filled his childish mind with terror of thelaw, and driven him deeper into the wilds. The rebuffs that he had metat the hands of men, both black and white, had had their effect uponhis mind while yet it was in a formative state, and easily influenced.
He had come to believe that the hand of man was against him, and thenhe had found in Meriem the only human association he required orcraved. When she had been snatched from him his sorrow had been sodeep that the thought of ever mingling again with human beings grewstill more unutterably distasteful. Finally and for all time, hethought, the die was cast. Of his own volition he had become a beast,a beast he had lived, a beast he would die.
Now that it was too late, he regretted it. For now Meriem, stillliving, had been revealed to him in a guise of progress and advancementthat had carried her completely out of his life. Death itself couldnot have further removed her from him. In her new world she loved aman of her own kind. And Korak knew that it was right. She was notfor him--not for the naked, savage ape. No, she was not for him; buthe still was hers. If he could not have her and happiness, he would atleast do all that lay in his power to assure happiness to her. Hewould follow the young Englishman. In the first place he would knowthat he meant Meriem no harm, and after that, though jealousy wrenchedhis heart, he would watch over the man Meriem loved, for Meriem's sake;but God help that man if he thought to wrong her!
Slowly he aroused himself. He stood erect and stretched his greatframe, the muscles of his arms gliding sinuously beneath his tannedskin as he bent his clenched fists behind his head. A movement on theground beneath caught his eye. An antelope was entering the clearing.Immediately Korak became aware that he was empty--again he was a beast.For a moment love had lifted him to sublime heights of honor andrenunciation.
The antelope was crossing the clearing. Korak dropped to the groundupon the opposite side of the tree, and so lightly that not even thesensitive ears of the antelope apprehended his presence. He uncoiledhis grass rope--it was the latest addition to his armament, yet he wasproficient with it. Often he traveled with nothing more than his knifeand his rope--they were light and easy to carry. His spear and bow andarrows were cumbersome and he usually kept one or all of them hiddenaway in a private cache.
Now he held a single coil of the long rope in his right hand, and thebalance in his left. The antelope was but a few paces from him.Silently Korak leaped from his hiding place swinging the rope free fromthe entangling shrubbery. The antelope sprang away almost instantly;but instantly, too, the coiled rope, with its sliding noose, flewthrough the air above him. With unerring precision it settled aboutthe creature's neck. There was a quick wrist movement of the thrower,the noose tightened. The Killer braced himself with the rope acrosshis hip, and as the antelope tautened the singing strands in a lastfrantic bound for liberty he was thrown over upon his back.
Then, instead of approaching the fallen animal as a roper of thewestern plains might do, Korak dragged his captive to himself, pullinghim in hand over hand, and when he was within reach leaping upon himeven as Sheeta the panther might have done, and burying his teeth inthe animal's neck while he found its heart with the point of hishunting knife. Recoiling his rope, he cut a few generous strips fromhis kill and took to the trees again, where he ate in peace. Later heswung off in the direction of a nearby water hole, and then he slept.
In his mind, of course, was the suggestion of another meeting betweenMeriem and the young Englishman that had been borne to him by thegirl's parting: "Tonight!"
He had not followed Meriem because he knew from the direction fromwhich she had come and in which she returned that wheresoever she hadfound an asylum it lay out across the plains and not wishing to bediscovered by the girl he had not cared to venture into the open afterher. It would do as well to keep in touch with the young man, and thatwas precisely what he intended doing.
To you or me the possibility of locating the Hon. Morison in the jungleafter having permitted him to get such a considerable start might haveseemed remote; but to Korak it was not at all so. He guessed that thewhite man would return to his camp; but should he have done otherwiseit would be a simple matter to The Killer to trail a mounted manaccompanied by another on foot. Days might pass and still such a spoorwould be sufficiently plain to lead Korak unfalteringly to its end;while a matter of a few hours only left it as clear to him as thoughthe makers themselves were still in plain sight.
And so it came that a few minutes after the Hon. Morison Baynes enteredthe camp to be greeted by Hanson, Korak slipped noiselessly into anear-by tree. There he lay until late afternoon and still the youngEnglishman made no move to leave camp. Korak wondered if Meriem werecoming there. A little later Hanson and one of his black boys rode outof camp. Korak merely noted the fact. He was not particularlyinterested in what any other member of the company than the youngEnglishman did.
Darkness came and still the young man remained. He ate his eveningmeal, afterward smoking numerous cigarettes. Presently he began topace back and forth before his tent. He kept his boy busy replenishingthe fire. A lion coughed and he went into his tent to reappear with anexpress rifle. Again he admonished the boy to throw more brush uponthe fire. Korak saw that he was nervous and afraid, and his lip curledin a sneer of contempt.
Was this the creature who had supplanted him in the heart of hisMeriem? Was this a man, who trembled when Numa coughed? How couldsuch as he protect Meriem from the countless dangers of the jungle?Ah, but he would not have to. They would live in the safety ofEuropean civilization, where men in uniforms were hired to protectthem. What need had a European of prowess to protect his mate? Againthe sneer curled Korak's lip.
Hanson and his boy had ridden directly to the clearing. It was alreadydark when they arrived. Leaving the boy there Hanson rode to the edgeof the plain, leading the boy's horse. There he waited. It was nineo'clock before he saw a solitary figure galloping toward him from thedirection of the bungalow. A few moments later Meriem drew in hermount beside him. She was nervous and flushed. When she recognizedHanson she drew back, startled.
"Mr. Baynes' horse fell on him and sprained his ankle," Hanson hastenedto explain. "He couldn't very well come so he sent me to meet you andbring you to camp."
The girl could not see in the darkness the gloating, triumphantexpression on the speaker's face.
"We had better hurry," continued Hanson, "for we'll have to move alongpretty fast if we don't want to be overtaken."
"Is he hurt badly?" asked Meriem.
"Only a little sprain," replied Hanson. "He can ride all right; but weboth thought he'd better lie up tonight, and rest, for he'll haveplenty hard riding in the next few weeks."
"Yes," agreed the girl.
Hanson swung his pony about and Meriem followed him. They rode northalong the edge of the jungle for a mile and then turned straight intoit toward the west. Meriem, following, payed little attention todirections. She did not know exactly where Hanson's camp lay and soshe did not guess that he was not leading her toward it. All nightthey rode, straight toward the west. When morning came, Hansonpermitted a short halt for breakfast, which he had provided inwell-filled saddle bags before leaving his camp. Then they pushed onagain, nor did they halt a second time until in the heat of the day hestopped and motioned the girl to dismount.
"We will sleep here for a time and let the ponies graze," he said.
"I had no idea the camp was so far away," said Meriem.
"I left orders that they were to move on at day break," explained thetrader, "so that we could get a good start. I knew that you and Icould easily overtake a laden safari. It may not be until tomorrowthat we'll catch up with them."
But though they traveled part of the night and all the following day nosign of the safari appeared ahead of them. Meriem, an adept in junglecraft, knew that none had passed ahead of them for many days.Occasionally she saw indications of an old spoor, a very old spoor, ofmany men. For the most part they followed this well-marked trail alongelephant paths and through park-like groves. It was an ideal trail forrapid traveling.
Meriem at last became suspicious. Gradually the attitude of the man ather side had begun to change. Often she surprised him devouring herwith his eyes. Steadily the former sensation of previousacquaintanceship urged itself upon her. Somewhere, sometime before shehad known this man. It was evident that he had not shaved for severaldays. A blonde stubble had commenced to cover his neck and cheeks andchin, and with it the assurance that he was no stranger continued togrow upon the girl.
It was not until the second day, however, that Meriem rebelled. Shedrew in her pony at last and voiced her doubts. Hanson assured her thatthe camp was but a few miles further on.
"We should have overtaken them yesterday," he said. "They must havemarched much faster than I had believed possible."
"They have not marched here at all," said Meriem. "The spoor that wehave been following is weeks old."
Hanson laughed.
"Oh, that's it, is it?" he cried. "Why didn't you say so before? Icould have easily explained. We are not coming by the same route; butwe'll pick up their trail sometime today, even if we don't overtakethem."
Now, at last, Meriem knew the man was lying to her. What a fool hemust be to think that anyone could believe such a ridiculousexplanation? Who was so stupid as to believe that they could haveexpected to overtake another party, and he had certainly assured herthat momentarily he expected to do so, when that party's route was notto meet theirs for several miles yet?
She kept her own counsel however, planning to escape at the firstopportunity when she might have a sufficient start of her captor, asshe now considered him, to give her some assurance of outdistancinghim. She watched his face continually when she could without beingobserved. Tantalizingly the placing of his familiar features persistedin eluding her. Where had she known him? Under what conditions hadthey met before she had seen him about the farm of Bwana? She ran overin her mind all the few white men she ever had known. There were somewho had come to her father's douar in the jungle. Few it is true, butthere had been some. Ah, now she had it! She had seen him there! Shealmost seized upon his identity and then in an instant, it had slippedfrom her again.
It was mid afternoon when they suddenly broke out of the jungle uponthe banks of a broad and placid river. Beyond, upon the oppositeshore, Meriem described a camp surrounded by a high, thorn boma.
"Here we are at last," said Hanson. He drew his revolver and fired inthe air. Instantly the camp across the river was astir. Black men randown the river's bank. Hanson hailed them. But there was no sign ofthe Hon. Morison Baynes.
In accordance with their master's instructions the blacks manned acanoe and rowed across. Hanson placed Meriem in the little craft andentered it himself, leaving two boys to watch the horses, which thecanoe was to return for and swim across to the camp side of the river.
Once in the camp Meriem asked for Baynes. For the moment her fears hadbeen allayed by the sight of the camp, which she had come to look uponas more or less a myth. Hanson pointed toward the single tent thatstood in the center of the enclosure.
"There," he said, and preceded her toward it. At the entrance he heldthe flap aside and motioned her within. Meriem entered and lookedabout. The tent was empty. She turned toward Hanson. There was abroad grin on his face.
"Where is Mr. Baynes?" she demanded.
"He ain't here," replied Hanson. "Leastwise I don't see him, do you?But I'm here, and I'm a damned sight better man than that thing everwas. You don't need him no more--you got me," and he laugheduproariously and reached for her.
Meriem struggled to free herself. Hanson encircled her arms and bodyin his powerful grip and bore her slowly backward toward the pile ofblankets at the far end of the tent. His face was bent close to hers.His eyes were narrowed to two slits of heat and passion and desire.Meriem was looking full into his face as she fought for freedom whenthere came over her a sudden recollection of a similar scene in whichshe had been a participant and with it full recognition of herassailant. He was the Swede Malbihn who had attacked her once before,who had shot his companion who would have saved her, and from whom shehad been rescued by Bwana. His smooth face had deceived her; but nowwith the growing beard and the similarity of conditions recognitioncame swift and sure.
But today there would be no Bwana to save her.
The Son of Tarzan Page 20