Chapter 16
To Meriem, in her new home, the days passed quickly. At first she wasall anxiety to be off into the jungle searching for her Korak. Bwana,as she insisted upon calling her benefactor, dissuaded her from makingthe attempt at once by dispatching a head man with a party of blacks toKovudoo's village with instructions to learn from the old savage how hecame into possession of the white girl and as much of her antecedentsas might be culled from the black chieftain. Bwana particularlycharged his head man with the duty of questioning Kovudoo relative tothe strange character whom the girl called Korak, and of searching forthe ape-man if he found the slightest evidence upon which to ground abelief in the existence of such an individual. Bwana was more thanfully convinced that Korak was a creature of the girl's disorderedimagination. He believed that the terrors and hardships she hadundergone during captivity among the blacks and her frightfulexperience with the two Swedes had unbalanced her mind but as the dayspassed and he became better acquainted with her and able to observe herunder the ordinary conditions of the quiet of his African home he wasforced to admit that her strange tale puzzled him not a little, forthere was no other evidence whatever that Meriem was not in fullpossession of her normal faculties.
The white man's wife, whom Meriem had christened "My Dear" from havingfirst heard her thus addressed by Bwana, took not only a deep interestin the little jungle waif because of her forlorn and friendless state,but grew to love her as well for her sunny disposition and naturalcharm of temperament. And Meriem, similarly impressed by littleattributes in the gentle, cultured woman, reciprocated the other'sregard and affection.
And so the days flew by while Meriem waited the return of the head manand his party from the country of Kovudoo. They were short days, forinto them were crowded many hours of insidious instruction of theunlettered child by the lonely woman. She commenced at once to teachthe girl English without forcing it upon her as a task. She varied theinstruction with lessons in sewing and deportment, nor once did she letMeriem guess that it was not all play. Nor was this difficult, sincethe girl was avid to learn. Then there were pretty dresses to be madeto take the place of the single leopard skin and in this she found thechild as responsive and enthusiastic as any civilized miss of heracquaintance.
A month passed before the head man returned--a month that hadtransformed the savage, half-naked little tarmangani into a daintilyfrocked girl of at least outward civilization. Meriem had progressedrapidly with the intricacies of the English language, for Bwana and MyDear had persistently refused to speak Arabic from the time they haddecided that Meriem must learn English, which had been a day or twoafter her introduction into their home.
The report of the head man plunged Meriem into a period of despondency,for he had found the village of Kovudoo deserted nor, search as hewould, could he discover a single native anywhere in the vicinity. Forsome time he had camped near the village, spending the days in asystematic search of the environs for traces of Meriem's Korak; but inthis quest, too, had he failed. He had seen neither apes nor ape-man.Meriem at first insisted upon setting forth herself in search of Korak,but Bwana prevailed upon her to wait. He would go himself, he assuredher, as soon as he could find the time, and at last Meriem consented toabide by his wishes; but it was months before she ceased to mournalmost hourly for her Korak.
My Dear grieved with the grieving girl and did her best to comfort andcheer her. She told her that if Korak lived he would find her; but allthe time she believed that Korak had never existed beyond the child'sdreams. She planned amusements to distract Meriem's attention from hersorrow, and she instituted a well-designed campaign to impress upon thechild the desirability of civilized life and customs. Nor was thisdifficult, as she was soon to learn, for it rapidly became evident thatbeneath the uncouth savagery of the girl was a bed rock of innaterefinement--a nicety of taste and predilection that quite equaled thatof her instructor.
My Dear was delighted. She was lonely and childless, and so shelavished upon this little stranger all the mother love that would havegone to her own had she had one. The result was that by the end of thefirst year none might have guessed that Meriem ever had existed beyondthe lap of culture and luxury.
She was sixteen now, though she easily might have passed for nineteen,and she was very good to look upon, with her black hair and her tannedskin and all the freshness and purity of health and innocence. Yet shestill nursed her secret sorrow, though she no longer mentioned it to MyDear. Scarce an hour passed that did not bring its recollection ofKorak, and its poignant yearning to see him again.
Meriem spoke English fluently now, and read and wrote it as well. Oneday My Dear spoke jokingly to her in French and to her surprise Meriemreplied in the same tongue--slowly, it is true, and haltingly; but nonethe less in excellent French, such, though, as a little child mightuse. Thereafter they spoke a little French each day, and My Dear oftenmarveled that the girl learned this language with a facility that wasat times almost uncanny. At first Meriem had puckered her narrow,arched, little eye brows as though trying to force recollection ofsomething all but forgotten which the new words suggested, and then, toher own astonishment as well as to that of her teacher she had usedother French words than those in the lessons--used them properly andwith a pronunciation that the English woman knew was more perfect thanher own; but Meriem could neither read nor write what she spoke sowell, and as My Dear considered a knowledge of correct English of thefirst importance, other than conversational French was postponed for alater day.
"You doubtless heard French spoken at times in your father's douar,"suggested My Dear, as the most reasonable explanation.
Meriem shook her head.
"It may be," she said, "but I do not recall ever having seen aFrenchman in my father's company--he hated them and would have nothingwhatever to do with them, and I am quite sure that I never heard any ofthese words before, yet at the same time I find them all familiar. Icannot understand it."
"Neither can I," agreed My Dear.
It was about this time that a runner brought a letter that, when shelearned the contents, filled Meriem with excitement. Visitors werecoming! A number of English ladies and gentlemen had accepted MyDear's invitation to spend a month of hunting and exploring with them.Meriem was all expectancy. What would these strangers be like? Wouldthey be as nice to her as had Bwana and My Dear, or would they be likethe other white folk she had known--cruel and relentless. My Dearassured her that they all were gentle folk and that she would find themkind, considerate and honorable.
To My Dear's surprise there was none of the shyness of the wildcreature in Meriem's anticipation of the visit of strangers.
She looked forward to their coming with curiosity and with a certainpleasurable anticipation when once she was assured that they would notbite her. In fact she appeared no different than would any prettyyoung miss who had learned of the expected coming of company.
Korak's image was still often in her thoughts, but it aroused now aless well-defined sense of bereavement. A quiet sadness pervadedMeriem when she thought of him; but the poignant grief of her loss whenit was young no longer goaded her to desperation. Yet she was stillloyal to him. She still hoped that some day he would find her, nor didshe doubt for a moment but that he was searching for her if he stilllived. It was this last suggestion that caused her the greatestperturbation. Korak might be dead. It scarce seemed possible that oneso well-equipped to meet the emergencies of jungle life should havesuccumbed so young; yet when she had last seen him he had been beset bya horde of armed warriors, and should he have returned to the villageagain, as she well knew he must have, he may have been killed. Evenher Korak could not, single handed, slay an entire tribe.
At last the visitors arrived. There were three men and two women--thewives of the two older men. The youngest member of the party was Hon.Morison Baynes, a young man of considerable wealth who, havingexhausted all the possibilities for pleasure offered by the capitals ofEurope, had gladly s
eized upon this opportunity to turn to anothercontinent for excitement and adventure.
He looked upon all things un-European as rather more than lessimpossible, still he was not at all averse to enjoying the novelty ofunaccustomed places, and making the most of strangers indigenousthereto, however unspeakable they might have seemed to him at home. Inmanner he was suave and courteous to all--if possible a trifle morepunctilious toward those he considered of meaner clay than toward thefew he mentally admitted to equality.
Nature had favored him with a splendid physique and a handsome face,and also with sufficient good judgment to appreciate that while hemight enjoy the contemplation of his superiority to the masses, therewas little likelihood of the masses being equally entranced by the samecause. And so he easily maintained the reputation of being a mostdemocratic and likeable fellow, and indeed he was likable. Just ashade of his egotism was occasionally apparent--never sufficient tobecome a burden to his associates. And this, briefly, was the Hon.Morison Baynes of luxurious European civilization. What would be theHon. Morison Baynes of central Africa it were difficult to guess.
Meriem, at first, was shy and reserved in the presence of thestrangers. Her benefactors had seen fit to ignore mention of herstrange past, and so she passed as their ward whose antecedents nothaving been mentioned were not to be inquired into. The guests foundher sweet and unassuming, laughing, vivacious and a never exhaustedstorehouse of quaint and interesting jungle lore.
She had ridden much during her year with Bwana and My Dear. She kneweach favorite clump of concealing reeds along the river that thebuffalo loved best. She knew a dozen places where lions laired, andevery drinking hole in the drier country twenty-five miles back fromthe river. With unerring precision that was almost uncanny she couldtrack the largest or the smallest beast to his hiding place. But thething that baffled them all was her instant consciousness of thepresence of carnivora that others, exerting their faculties to theutmost, could neither see nor hear.
The Hon. Morison Baynes found Meriem a most beautiful and charmingcompanion. He was delighted with her from the first. Particularly so,it is possible, because he had not thought to find companionship ofthis sort upon the African estate of his London friends. They weretogether a great deal as they were the only unmarried couple in thelittle company. Meriem, entirely unaccustomed to the companionship ofsuch as Baynes, was fascinated by him. His tales of the great, gaycities with which he was familiar filled her with admiration and withwonder. If the Hon. Morison always shone to advantage in thesenarratives Meriem saw in that fact but a most natural consequence tohis presence upon the scene of his story--wherever Morison might be hemust be a hero; so thought the girl.
With the actual presence and companionship of the young Englishman theimage of Korak became less real. Where before it had been an actualityto her she now realized that Korak was but a memory. To that memoryshe still was loyal; but what weight has a memory in the presence of afascinating reality?
Meriem had never accompanied the men upon a hunt since the arrival ofthe guests. She never had cared particularly for the sport of killing.The tracking she enjoyed; but the mere killing for the sake of killingshe could not find pleasure in--little savage that she had been, andstill, to some measure, was. When Bwana had gone forth to shoot formeat she had always been his enthusiastic companion; but with thecoming of the London guests the hunting had deteriorated into merekilling. Slaughter the host would not permit; yet the purpose of thehunts were for heads and skins and not for food. So Meriem remainedbehind and spent her days either with My Dear upon the shaded verandah,or riding her favorite pony across the plains or to the forest edge.Here she would leave him untethered while she took to the trees for themoment's unalloyed pleasures of a return to the wild, free existence ofher earlier childhood.
Then would come again visions of Korak, and, tired at last of leapingand swinging through the trees, she would stretch herself comfortablyupon a branch and dream. And presently, as today, she found thefeatures of Korak slowly dissolve and merge into those of another, andthe figure of a tanned, half-naked tarmangani become a khaki clothedEnglishman astride a hunting pony.
And while she dreamed there came to her ears from a distance, faintly,the terrified bleating of a kid. Meriem was instantly alert. You orI, even had we been able to hear the pitiful wail at so great distance,could not have interpreted it; but to Meriem it meant a species ofterror that afflicts the ruminant when a carnivore is near and escapeimpossible.
It had been both a pleasure and a sport of Korak's to rob Numa of hisprey whenever possible, and Meriem too had often joyed in the thrillof snatching some dainty morsel almost from the very jaws of the kingof beasts. Now, at the sound of the kid's bleat, all the wellremembered thrills recurred. Instantly she was all excitement to playagain the game of hide and seek with death.
Quickly she loosened her riding skirt and tossed it aside--it was aheavy handicap to successful travel in the trees. Her boots andstockings followed the skirt, for the bare sole of the human foot doesnot slip upon dry or even wet bark as does the hard leather of a boot.She would have liked to discard her riding breeches also, but themotherly admonitions of My Dear had convinced Meriem that it was notgood form to go naked through the world.
At her hip hung a hunting knife. Her rifle was still in its boot ather pony's withers. Her revolver she had not brought.
The kid was still bleating as Meriem started rapidly in its direction,which she knew was straight toward a certain water hole which had oncebeen famous as a rendezvous for lions. Of late there had been noevidence of carnivora in the neighborhood of this drinking place; butMeriem was positive that the bleating of the kid was due to thepresence of either lion or panther.
But she would soon know, for she was rapidly approaching the terrifiedanimal. She wondered as she hastened onward that the sounds continuedto come from the same point. Why did the kid not run away? And thenshe came in sight of the little animal and knew. The kid was tetheredto a stake beside the waterhole.
Meriem paused in the branches of a near-by tree and scanned thesurrounding clearing with quick, penetrating eyes. Where was thehunter? Bwana and his people did not hunt thus. Who could havetethered this poor little beast as a lure to Numa? Bwana nevercountenanced such acts in his country and his word was law among thosewho hunted within a radius of many miles of his estate.
Some wandering savages, doubtless, thought Meriem; but where were they?Not even her keen eyes could discover them. And where was Numa? Whyhad he not long since sprung upon this delicious and defenselessmorsel? That he was close by was attested by the pitiful crying of thekid. Ah! Now she saw him. He was lying close in a clump of brush afew yards to her right. The kid was down wind from him and getting thefull benefit of his terrorizing scent, which did not reach Meriem.
To circle to the opposite side of the clearing where the treesapproached closer to the kid. To leap quickly to the little animal'sside and cut the tether that held him would be the work of but amoment. In that moment Numa might charge, and then there would bescarce time to regain the safety of the trees, yet it might be done.Meriem had escaped from closer quarters than that many times before.
The doubt that gave her momentary pause was caused by fear of theunseen hunters more than by fear of Numa. If they were stranger blacksthe spears that they held in readiness for Numa might as readily beloosed upon whomever dared release their bait as upon the prey theysought thus to trap. Again the kid struggled to be free. Again hispiteous wail touched the tender heart strings of the girl. Tossingdiscretion aside, she commenced to circle the clearing. Only from Numadid she attempt to conceal her presence. At last she reached theopposite trees. An instant she paused to look toward the great lion,and at the same moment she saw the huge beast rise slowly to his fullheight. A low roar betokened that he was ready.
Meriem loosened her knife and leaped to the ground. A quick runbrought her to the side of the kid. Numa saw her. He lashed his
tailagainst his tawny sides. He roared terribly; but, for an instant, heremained where he stood--surprised into inaction, doubtless, by thestrange apparition that had sprung so unexpectedly from the jungle.
Other eyes were upon Meriem, too--eyes in which were no less surprisethan that reflected in the yellow-green orbs of the carnivore. A whiteman, hiding in a thorn boma, half rose as the young girl leaped intothe clearing and dashed toward the kid. He saw Numa hesitate. Heraised his rifle and covered the beast's breast. The girl reached thekid's side. Her knife flashed, and the little prisoner was free. Witha parting bleat it dashed off into the jungle. Then the girl turned toretreat toward the safety of the tree from which she had dropped sosuddenly and unexpectedly into the surprised view of the lion, the kidand the man.
As she turned the girl's face was turned toward the hunter. His eyeswent wide as he saw her features. He gave a little gasp of surprise;but now the lion demanded all his attention--the baffled, angry beastwas charging. His breast was still covered by the motionless rifle.The man could have fired and stopped the charge at once; but for somereason, since he had seen the girl's face, he hesitated. Could it bethat he did not care to save her? Or, did he prefer, if possible, toremain unseen by her? It must have been the latter cause which keptthe trigger finger of the steady hand from exerting the little pressurethat would have brought the great beast to at least a temporary pause.
Like an eagle the man watched the race for life the girl was making. Asecond or two measured the time which the whole exciting event consumedfrom the moment that the lion broke into his charge. Nor once did therifle sights fail to cover the broad breast of the tawny sire as thelion's course took him a little to the man's left. Once, at the verylast moment, when escape seemed impossible, the hunter's fingertightened ever so little upon the trigger, but almost coincidentallythe girl leaped for an over hanging branch and seized it. The lionleaped too; but the nimble Meriem had swung herself beyond his reachwithout a second or an inch to spare.
The man breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered his rifle. He saw thegirl fling a grimace at the angry, roaring, maneater beneath her, andthen, laughing, speed away into the forest. For an hour the lionremained about the water hole. A hundred times could the hunter havebagged his prey. Why did he fail to do so? Was he afraid that theshot might attract the girl and cause her to return?
At last Numa, still roaring angrily, strode majestically into thejungle. The hunter crawled from his boma, and half an hour later wasentering a little camp snugly hidden in the forest. A handful of blackfollowers greeted his return with sullen indifference. He was a greatbearded man, a huge, yellow-bearded giant, when he entered his tent.Half an hour later he emerged smooth shaven.
His blacks looked at him in astonishment.
"Would you know me?" he asked.
"The hyena that bore you would not know you, Bwana," replied one.
The man aimed a heavy fist at the black's face; but long experience indodging similar blows saved the presumptuous one.