Chapter 19
Behind them Korak emerged from the jungle and recovered his spear fromNuma's side. He still was smiling. He had enjoyed the spectacleexceedingly. There was one thing that troubled him--the agility withwhich the she had clambered from her pony's back into the safety of thetree ABOVE her. That was more like mangani--more like his lost Meriem.He sighed. His lost Meriem! His little, dead Meriem! He wondered ifthis she stranger resembled his Meriem in other ways. A great longingto see her overwhelmed him. He looked after the three figures movingsteadily across the plain. He wondered where might lie theirdestination. A desire to follow them came over him, but he only stoodthere watching until they had disappeared in the distance. The sightof the civilized girl and the dapper, khaki clad Englishman had arousedin Korak memories long dormant.
Once he had dreamed of returning to the world of such as these; butwith the death of Meriem hope and ambition seemed to have deserted him.He cared now only to pass the remainder of his life in solitude, as farfrom man as possible. With a sigh he turned slowly back into thejungle.
Tantor, nervous by nature, had been far from reassured by closeproximity to the three strange whites, and with the report of Hanson'srifle had turned and ambled away at his long, swinging shuffle. He wasnowhere in sight when Korak returned to look for him. The ape-man,however, was little concerned by the absence of his friend. Tantor hada habit of wandering off unexpectedly. For a month they might not seeone another, for Korak seldom took the trouble to follow the greatpachyderm, nor did he upon this occasion. Instead he found acomfortable perch in a large tree and was soon asleep.
At the bungalow Bwana had met the returning adventurers on theverandah. In a moment of wakefulness he had heard the report ofHanson's rifle far out across the plain, and wondered what it mightmean. Presently it had occurred to him that the man whom he consideredin the light of a guest might have met with an accident on his way backto camp, so he had arisen and gone to his foreman's quarters where hehad learned that Hanson had been there earlier in the evening but haddeparted several hours before. Returning from the foreman's quartersBwana had noticed that the corral gate was open and furtherinvestigation revealed the fact that Meriem's pony was gone and alsothe one most often used by Baynes. Instantly Bwana assumed that theshot had been fired by Hon. Morison, and had again aroused his foremanand was making preparations to set forth in investigation when he hadseen the party approaching across the plain.
Explanation on the part of the Englishman met a rather chilly receptionfrom his host. Meriem was silent. She saw that Bwana was angry withher. It was the first time and she was heart broken.
"Go to your room, Meriem," he said; "and Baynes, if you will step intomy study, I'd like to have a word with you in a moment."
He stepped toward Hanson as the others turned to obey him. There wassomething about Bwana even in his gentlest moods that commanded instantobedience.
"How did you happen to be with them, Hanson?" he asked.
"I'd been sitting in the garden," replied the trader, "after leavingJervis' quarters. I have a habit of doing that as your lady probablyknows. Tonight I fell asleep behind a bush, and was awakened by themtwo spooning. I couldn't hear what they said, but presently Baynesbrings two ponies and they ride off. I didn't like to interfere for itwasn't any of my business, but I knew they hadn't ought to be ridin'about that time of night, leastways not the girl--it wasn't right andit wasn't safe. So I follows them and it's just as well I did. Bayneswas gettin' away from the lion as fast as he could, leavin' the girl totake care of herself, when I got a lucky shot into the beast's shoulderthat fixed him."
Hanson paused. Both men were silent for a time. Presently the tradercoughed in an embarrassed manner as though there was something on hismind he felt in duty bound to say, but hated to.
"What is it, Hanson?" asked Bwana. "You were about to say somethingweren't you?"
"Well, you see it's like this," ventured Hanson. "Bein' around hereevenings a good deal I've seen them two together a lot, and, beggin'your pardon, sir, but I don't think Mr. Baynes means the girl any good.I've overheard enough to make me think he's tryin' to get her to runoff with him." Hanson, to fit his own ends, hit nearer the truth thanhe knew. He was afraid that Baynes would interfere with his own plans,and he had hit upon a scheme to both utilize the young Englishman andget rid of him at the same time.
"And I thought," continued the trader, "that inasmuch as I'm about dueto move you might like to suggest to Mr. Baynes that he go with me.I'd be willin' to take him north to the caravan trails as a favor toyou, sir."
Bwana stood in deep thought for a moment. Presently he looked up.
"Of course, Hanson, Mr. Baynes is my guest," he said, a grim twinkle inhis eye. "Really I cannot accuse him of planning to run away withMeriem on the evidence that we have, and as he is my guest I shouldhate to be so discourteous as to ask him to leave; but, if I recall hiswords correctly, it seems to me that he has spoken of returning home,and I am sure that nothing would delight him more than going north withyou--you say you start tomorrow? I think Mr. Baynes will accompanyyou. Drop over in the morning, if you please, and now good night, andthank you for keeping a watchful eye on Meriem."
Hanson hid a grin as he turned and sought his saddle. Bwana steppedfrom the verandah to his study, where he found the Hon. Morison pacingback and forth, evidently very ill at ease.
"Baynes," said Bwana, coming directly to the point, "Hanson is leavingfor the north tomorrow. He has taken a great fancy to you, and justasked me to say to you that he'd be glad to have you accompany him.Good night, Baynes."
At Bwana's suggestion Meriem kept to her room the following morninguntil after the Hon. Morison Baynes had departed. Hanson had come forhim early--in fact he had remained all night with the foreman, Jervis,that they might get an early start.
The farewell exchanges between the Hon. Morison and his host were ofthe most formal type, and when at last the guest rode away Bwanabreathed a sigh of relief. It had been an unpleasant duty and he wasglad that it was over; but he did not regret his action. He had notbeen blind to Baynes' infatuation for Meriem, and knowing the youngman's pride in caste he had never for a moment believed that his guestwould offer his name to this nameless Arab girl, for, extremely lightin color though she was for a full blood Arab, Bwana believed her to besuch.
He did not mention the subject again to Meriem, and in this he made amistake, for the young girl, while realizing the debt of gratitude sheowed Bwana and My Dear, was both proud and sensitive, so that Bwana'saction in sending Baynes away and giving her no opportunity to explainor defend hurt and mortified her. Also it did much toward making amartyr of Baynes in her eyes and arousing in her breast a keen feelingof loyalty toward him.
What she had half-mistaken for love before, she now wholly mistook forlove. Bwana and My Dear might have told her much of the socialbarriers that they only too well knew Baynes must feel existed betweenMeriem and himself, but they hesitated to wound her. It would havebeen better had they inflicted this lesser sorrow, and saved the childthe misery that was to follow because of her ignorance.
As Hanson and Baynes rode toward the former's camp the Englishmanmaintained a morose silence. The other was attempting to formulate anopening that would lead naturally to the proposition he had in mind.He rode a neck behind his companion, grinning as he noted the sullenscowl upon the other's patrician face.
"Rather rough on you, wasn't he?" he ventured at last, jerking his headback in the direction of the bungalow as Baynes turned his eyes uponhim at the remark. "He thinks a lot of the girl," continued Hanson,"and don't want nobody to marry her and take her away; but it looks tome as though he was doin' her more harm than good in sendin' you away.She ought to marry some time, and she couldn't do better than a fineyoung gentleman like you."
Baynes, who had at first felt inclined to take offense at the mentionof his private affairs by this common fellow, was mollified by Hanson'sfinal remark, and
immediately commenced to see in him a man of finediscrimination.
"He's a darned bounder," grumbled the Hon. Morison; "but I'll get evenwith him. He may be the whole thing in Central Africa but I'm as bigas he is in London, and he'll find it out when he comes home."
"If I was you," said Hanson, "I wouldn't let any man keep me fromgettin' the girl I want. Between you and me I ain't got no use for himeither, and if I can help you any way just call on me."
"It's mighty good of you, Hanson," replied Baynes, warming up a bit;"but what can a fellow do here in this God-forsaken hole?"
"I know what I'd do," said Hanson. "I'd take the girl along with me.If she loves you she'll go, all right."
"It can't be done," said Baynes. "He bosses this whole bloomingcountry for miles around. He'd be sure to catch us."
"No, he wouldn't, not with me running things," said Hanson. "I've beentrading and hunting here for ten years and I know as much about thecountry as he does. If you want to take the girl along I'll help you,and I'll guarantee that there won't nobody catch up with us before wereach the coast. I'll tell you what, you write her a note and I'll getit to her by my head man. Ask her to meet you to say goodbye--shewon't refuse that. In the meantime we can be movin' camp a littlefurther north all the time and you can make arrangements with her to beall ready on a certain night. Tell her I'll meet her then while youwait for us in camp. That'll be better for I know the country well andcan cover it quicker than you. You can take care of the safari and bemovin' along slow toward the north and the girl and I'll catch up toyou."
"But suppose she won't come?" suggested Baynes.
"Then make another date for a last good-bye," said Hanson, "and insteadof you I'll be there and I'll bring her along anyway. She'll have tocome, and after it's all over she won't feel so bad aboutit--especially after livin' with you for two months while we're makin'the coast."
A shocked and angry protest rose to Baynes' lips; but he did not utterit, for almost simultaneously came the realization that this waspractically the same thing he had been planning upon himself. It hadsounded brutal and criminal from the lips of the rough trader; butnevertheless the young Englishman saw that with Hanson's help and hisknowledge of African travel the possibilities of success would be muchgreater than as though the Hon. Morison were to attempt the thingsingle handed. And so he nodded a glum assent.
The balance of the long ride to Hanson's northerly camp was made insilence, for both men were occupied with their own thoughts, most ofwhich were far from being either complimentary or loyal to the other.As they rode through the wood the sounds of their careless passage cameto the ears of another jungle wayfarer. The Killer had determined tocome back to the place where he had seen the white girl who took to thetrees with the ability of long habitude. There was a compellingsomething in the recollection of her that drew him irresistibly towardher. He wished to see her by the light of day, to see her features, tosee the color of her eyes and hair. It seemed to him that she mustbear a strong resemblance to his lost Meriem, and yet he knew that thechances were that she did not. The fleeting glimpse that he had had ofher in the moonlight as she swung from the back of her plunging ponyinto the branches of the tree above her had shown him a girl of aboutthe same height as his Meriem; but of a more rounded and developedfemininity.
Now he was moving lazily back in the direction of the spot where he hadseen the girl when the sounds of the approaching horsemen came to hissharp ears. He moved stealthily through the branches until he camewithin sight of the riders. The younger man he instantly recognized asthe same he had seen with his arms about the girl in the moonlit gladejust the instant before Numa charged. The other he did not recognizethough there was a familiarity about his carriage and figure thatpuzzled Korak.
The ape-man decided that to find the girl again he would but have tokeep in touch with the young Englishman, and so he fell in behind thepair, following them to Hanson's camp. Here the Hon. Morison penned abrief note, which Hanson gave into the keeping of one of his boys whostarted off forthwith toward the south.
Korak remained in the vicinity of the camp, keeping a careful watchupon the Englishman. He had half expected to find the girl at thedestination of the two riders and had been disappointed when no sign ofher materialized about the camp.
Baynes was restless, pacing back and forth beneath the trees when heshould have been resting against the forced marches of the comingflight. Hanson lay in his hammock and smoked. They spoke but little.Korak lay stretched upon a branch among the dense foliage above them.Thus passed the balance of the afternoon. Korak became hungry andthirsty. He doubted that either of the men would leave camp now beforemorning, so he withdrew, but toward the south, for there it seemed mostlikely the girl still was.
In the garden beside the bungalow Meriem wandered thoughtfully in themoonlight. She still smarted from Bwana's, to her, unjust treatment ofthe Hon. Morison Baynes. Nothing had been explained to her, for bothBwana and My Dear had wished to spare her the mortification and sorrowof the true explanation of Baynes' proposal. They knew, as Meriem didnot, that the man had no intention of marrying her, else he would havecome directly to Bwana, knowing full well that no objection would beinterposed if Meriem really cared for him.
Meriem loved them both and was grateful to them for all that they haddone for her; but deep in her little heart surged the savage love ofliberty that her years of untrammeled freedom in the jungle had madepart and parcel of her being. Now, for the first time since she hadcome to them, Meriem felt like a prisoner in the bungalow of Bwana andMy Dear.
Like a caged tigress the girl paced the length of the enclosure. Onceshe paused near the outer fence, her head upon one side--listening.What was it she had heard? The pad of naked human feet just beyond thegarden. She listened for a moment. The sound was not repeated. Thenshe resumed her restless walking. Down to the opposite end of thegarden she passed, turned and retraced her steps toward the upper end.Upon the sward near the bushes that hid the fence, full in the glare ofthe moonlight, lay a white envelope that had not been there when shehad turned almost upon the very spot a moment before.
Meriem stopped short in her tracks, listening again, and sniffing--morethan ever the tigress; alert, ready. Beyond the bushes a naked blackrunner squatted, peering through the foliage. He saw her take a stepcloser to the letter. She had seen it. He rose quietly and followingthe shadows of the bushes that ran down to the corral was soon gonefrom sight.
Meriem's trained ears heard his every move. She made no attempt toseek closer knowledge of his identity. Already she had guessed that hewas a messenger from the Hon. Morison. She stooped and picked up theenvelope. Tearing it open she easily read the contents by the moon'sbrilliant light. It was, as she had guessed, from Baynes.
"I cannot go without seeing you again," it read. "Come to the clearingearly tomorrow morning and say good-bye to me. Come alone."
There was a little more--words that made her heart beat faster and ahappy flush mount her cheek.