THE SUNDAY FICTION MAGAZINE, JANUARY 21, 1917
brow. Meriem glanced toward him. "Ton
f are warm," she said. "Now that the sun
" -Is setting I find it quite cool. Why do
" you perspire now?"
rT. He had not intended to let her know
, that he had seen her with the baboons;
but suddenly, before he realized what he
was saying, he had blurted it out.,
" r ' 4,1 Prspire from emotion," he said. "I
went into the jungle when I discovered
your pony. I wanted to surprise you;
but It 'was I who was surprised. I saw
- you m the trees with the baboons."
-"Yes?" she said, quite unemotionally,
" . though it was" a matter of little mo-
xnent that a young girl should be upon
Intimate terms with savage jungle
; , beasts.
... 1 was horrible!" ejaculated the Hon.
Mori son.
- "Horrible?" repeated Meriem, pucker-
- , lng her brows in bewilderment. "What
' was horrible about it? They are my
"7 friends. Is it horrible to talk with one's
friends?"
"You were really talking with them.
then?" cried the Hon. Morison. "You un
, derstood them, and they understood
you?" .
"Certainly."
fl' "But they are hideous creatures de-
' graded beasts of a lower order! How
could you speak thejlanguage of beasts?"
"They are not hideous or degraded."
replied Meriem warmly. "Friends are
never that. I lived among them for
years before Bwana found me and
brought me here. I scarce knew any
other tongue than that of the Manganl.
Should I refuse to know them now sim-
' 7 ply because I happen, for the present, to
'e t live among humans?"
' "For the P5811!" ejaculated the Hon.
. Morison. "You cannot mean that you
expect to return to live among them?
Come, come, what foolishness are we
. ; talking? The very idea! You are spoof
ing; me. Miss Meriem. You haTe been
kind to these baboons here and they
r know, you and do not molest you; but
that you once lived among them no,
t that is preposterous!"
"But I did, though," insisted the girl,
seeing the real horror that the man felt
in the presence of such an idea reflected
in his tone and manner, and rather en
joying baiting him still further.
"Yes, I lived, almost naked, among the
; great apes and the lesser apes. I dwelt
H among the branches of the trees. I
pounced upon the smaller prey and de
voured it raw. With Korak and A'ht I
hunted the antelope and the boar, and I
'''' . sat upon a tree limb and made faces at
Numa, the lion, and threw sticks at him
.and annoyed him until he roared so ter
ribly in his rage 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, to me until
i" I came to Bwana and My Dear I do not
recall that any other than Korak was
V ' - ever kind to me."
t 1 There was a wistful note in the girl'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 a great deal of late.
:- '
. ORa time both were silently absorbed
T- - T to their own reflections as they rode
- on toward the bungalow of their host. The
V- , was thinking of a J4megure,-a
VJ- 1 leopard skin half concealing his smooth,
brown hide as he leaped nimbly through',
the trees to lay an offering of food be-
: fore her on his return from a successful
t hunt. Behind him, shaggy and powerful
swung a'hanlbroidiCwhUe,!,-.:
' - Meriem, laughing and shouting her wel-a"-
come, swung upon a swaying limb, before
the entrance to her sylvan bower.
. It was a pretty picture is she recalled
- - It The other side seldom obtruded itself
- - upon her memory the long, black nights;
' - . the chill, terrible jungle nights; the
'cold and damp and discomfort . of the
, rainy season; the hideous mouthlngs of
... the,; savage carnlvora as ' they prowled
through the Stygian darkness beneath;
, the constant menace of Sheets, the
panther, and Hista, the snake; the sting
ing insects, the loathsome vermin. For,
in truth, all these had been outweighed
by the happiness of the sunny days, the
freedom of it all, and, most, the compan
ionship of Korak.
The man's thoughts were rather jum
bled. He had suddenly realized that he
had come mighty near falling in love
with this girt of whom he had known
nothing up to the previous moment when
she had voluntarily revealed a portion of
her past to him. The more he thought
upon the matter the more evident it be
came to him that he had given her his
love that he had been upon the verge of
offering her his honorable name.
He trembled a little at the narrowness
of his escape. Yet he still loved her.
There" was no objection to that, accord
ing to the ethics of the Hon. Morison
Baynes and his kind. She was of meaner
clay than he. He could no more have
taken her in marriage than he could have
taken one of her baboon friends, nor
would she, of course, expect such an offer
from him. To have his love would be
sufficient honor for her his name he
would, naturally, bestow upon one in his
own elevated social sphere.
A GIRL, who had consorted with apes,
who, according to her own admission,
had lived almost naked among them,
could have no considerable sense of the
finer quaUties of virtue. The love that
he would offer her, then, would, far from
offending her. probably cover all that she
might desire or expect.
The more the Hon. Morison Baynes
thought upon the subject the more fully
convinced he became that he was con
templating a most chivalrous and unself
ish act. Europeans will better under
stand this point of view than Americans
poor, benighted- provincials, who are
denied a true appreciation 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 happier
amid the luxuries of a London apart
ment, fortified as she would be by both
his love and his bank account, than law
fully wed to such, a one as her social po
sition warranted. There was one ques
tion, however, which he wished o have
definitely answered before he committed
himself even to the program he was con
sidering. "Who were Korak and A'ht?" he
asked.
"A'ht was a Mangani," replied. Me
riem, "and Korak a Tarmangani."
"And what, pray, might a Mangani be?
and a Tarmangani V
The girl laughed.
"You are a Tarmangani." she replied.
"The Mangani are covered with hair
you would call them apes."
"Then Korak was a white man?" he
asked.
. "Yes."
' "An. he "was ah your r your
He paused, for he found it ratherdlffl
cult to go on with that line of question
ing while the tfrt', dear, beautiful eyes
were looking straight Into his.
"My what?" Insisted Meriem, far too
unsophisticated, in her unspoiled - inno
? cence tor guess what the Hon., Morison
was driving at.
; Why-ah-yur brother?" he stum-"
;bied.';-
. "No, Korak was not my brothejy" she
repuea. . - ..
"Washe your husband, then?"- be
finally blurted;- ' -r .':.. .
'-J-9?; f?ni;aki offense, Meriem broke
into a merry laugh. : i " . - .'
My husband!" she cried. - "Why, how
old do. yotf think t arn? I am too young,
to have a husband. I had never thought
of such. a. thing, v Korak was why-
and now she hesitated, too; -for she never
before had attempted to analyze the re
lationship that existed, between herself
and Korak.t'Why. Korak was just Kol :
rak," and again she . broke Into a-gay
laugh as she realized the illuminating
quality of her description.
Looking at her and listening to her.
the man beside her could not believe that
depravity of any sort or degree entered
into the girl's nature, yet he wanted to
believe that she had not been virtuous,
for the Hon. Morison was not entirely
without conscience.
-or several days the Hon. Morison
made no appreciable progress toward the
consummation of his scheme. Some
times he almost abandoned it, for he
found himself time and again wondering
how slight might be the provocation
necessary to trick him Into making a
bona fide offer of marriage to Meriem if
he permitted himself to fall more deeply
in love with her, and it was difficult to
see her daily and not love her. There
was a quality about her which, all un
known to the Hon. Morison, was making
his task an extremely difficult one it
was that quality of innate goodness and
cleanness which is a good girl's stoutest
bulwark and protection an impregnable
barrier that only degeneracy has the ef
frontery to assail.
The Hon. Morison Baynes would never
be considered a degenerate.
He was sitting with Meriem upon the
veranda one evening after the others had
retired. Earlier they had been playing
tennis a game in which the Hon. Mori
son shone to advantage, as, in truth, he
did in most all manly sports. He was
telling her stories of London and Paris,
of balls and banquets, of the wonderful
women and their wonderful gowns, of
the pleasures and pastimes of the rich
and powerful.
The Hon. Morison was past master
in the art of insidious boasting. His
egotism was never flagrant or tiresome
he was never crude in it, for crudeness
was a plebeianism that the Hon. Morison
studiously avoided; yet the impression
derived by a listener to the Hon. Morison
was one that was not at all calculated
to detract from the glory of the house of
Baynes. or from that of its representa
tive here present.
Meriem was entranced. His tales
were like fairy stories to this little Jun
gle maid. The Hon. Morison loomed large
and wonderful and magnificent in her
mind's eye. He fascinated her. and when
he drew closer to her after a short si
lence and took her hand she thrilled as
one might thrill beneath the touch of a
deity a thrill of exaltation not unmixed
with fear.
He bent his lips close to her ear.
"Meriem!" he whispered. "My little
Meriem! May I hope to have the right
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 awrfy.
The man pu an arm about her and drew
her closer.
"I love you!" he whispered.'
SHE did not reply. She did not know '
what to say. She knew nothing of love.
She had never given it a thought; but
she did know that it was very nice to be
loved, whatever it meant. It was nice to
have people Vind to one. She bad 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 a vision
-of Korak- sprang like a miracle before
her eyea She saw Korak face close to
hers, she felt his lips hot against her lips,
- and then for the first time she guessed
what love meant.
She drew away, gently.
v-tvkn- said,' that I iove
, yolJti VM .vtlyrThen' Lr plenty of
time. I am too young to marry yet, and
I am. not sure that I should be happy in
. London or Paris-they rather frighten
. me." . t
7 How easily and naturally she had :
connected his avowal of love with the
idea' of marriage! The Hon. Morison was
:r perfectly sure that 'he had not mentioned
' carriage he had been particularly care- I
- ful not to do so. - v ".
And then, she was not sure that she
loved him! That. too. came rather in the
nature of a shock to his vanity. It
seemed incredible that this little barba.
rian should have any doubt whatever as
to the desirability cf the Hon. Morison
Baynes.
The first flush of passion cooled, the
Hon. Morison was enabled to reason
more logically. The start had been all
wrong. It would be better now to wait
and prepare her mind gradually for the
only proposition which his exalted estate
would permit him to offer her. He would
go slow.
He glanced down at the girl's profile.
It was bathed In the silvery light of the
great tropio moon. The Hon. Morison
Baynes wondered If It were to be so easy
a matter to "go alow." She was most
alluring.
Meriem rose. The vision Of Korak was
still before her.
"Good night," she said. "It is almost
too beautiful to leave." She waved her
hand in a comprehensive gesture which
took in the starry heavens, the great
moon, the broad, silvered plain, and the
dense shadows in the distance that
marked the jungle. "Oh, how I love It!"
"You would love London more." he
said earnestly. "And London would love
you. You would be a famous beauty in
any capital of Europe. You would have
the world at your feet, Meriem."
"Good night!" she repeated, and left
him.
The Hon. Morison selected a cigaret
from" his crested case, lighted it. blew a
thin line of blue smoke toward the moon,
and smiled.
CHAPTER XIX.
A Night Ride.
MKRIEM and Bwana were sitting on
the veranda together the following
day when a horseman appeared in the
distance riding across the plain toward
the bungalow.
Bwana shaded his eyes with his hand
and gazed out toward the oncoming
rider. He was puzzled. Strangers were
few In central Africa. Even the blacks
for a distance of many miles in every di
rection were well known to him. No
white man came within a hundred miles
that word of his coming did not reach
Bwana long before the stranger. Hi,
every move was reported to the big
Bwana-Just what animals he killed and
how many of each species; how he killed
them, too, for Bwana would not permit
the use of prussic acid or strychnin; and
how he treated his "boys."
. Several European sportsmen had been
turned back to the coast by the big Eng
lishman's orders because of unwarranted
cruelty to their black followers, and one,
whose name had long been heralded In
civilized communities as that of a great
sportsman, was driven from Africa with
JtT ntrtr to "t when Bwana
round that his bag of fourteen Hons had
been mad, hy ih9 dlUrent of
bait. ;
The result Was that all good sports-
men and all the native, loved and re
spected him. His word was law wh
there had never been law before.- There
was scare, a headman from coast J
coast who would not heed the big
Wa In preference to
andLH htiJ,teM Wh tbn!
and ,t was easy to turn back any uxJ
thjreaten to order hi. boy, to JL
' But hero" was evidently one who had
pipped into the country unheralded!
Bwana could not imagine who the ap
proaching horseman might be.
? ;?f mnnw-of roner hospital
ity the globe round, he met the newcom
er at the gate, welcoming him even be
fore he had dismounted. He saw a talL
well-knit, man of M or mora, blond of
- hair and smooth shaven. There was a
tantalizing familiarity about him that
convinced Bwana that he should be able
to cau the visitor by name, yet be was
' unable to do so. " .
(To be continued next tctek)
rCopyn'rht. 1U, kjr W. C Cbapma.