And out in the jungle, far away, Korak, covered with wounds,stiff with clotted blood, burning with rage and sorrow, swungback upon the trail of the great baboons. He had not found themwhere he had last seen them, nor in any of their usual haunts;but he sought them along the well-marked spoor they had leftbehind them, and at last he overtook them. When first he cameupon them they were moving slowly but steadily southward inone of those periodic migrations the reasons for which the baboonhimself is best able to explain. At sight of the white warriorwho came upon them from down wind the herd halted in response tothe warning cry of the sentinel that had discovered him. There wasmuch growling and muttering; much stiff-legged circling on thepart of the bulls. The mothers, in nervous, high pitched tones,called their young to their sides, and with them moved to safetybehind their lords and masters.

Korak called aloud to the king, who, at the familiar voice,advanced slowly, warily, and still stiff-legged. He must have theconfirmatory evidence of his nose before venturing to rely tooimplicitly upon the testimony of his ears and eyes. Korak stoodperfectly still. To have advanced then might have precipitatedan immediate attack, or, as easily, a panic of flight. Wild beastsare creatures of nerves. It is a relatively simple thing to throwthem into a species of hysteria which may induce either a maniafor murder, or symptoms of apparent abject cowardice--it is aquestion, however, if a wild animal ever is actually a coward.

The king baboon approached Korak. He walked around himin an ever decreasing circle--growling, grunting, sniffing. Korak spoke to him.

"I am Korak," he said. "I opened the cage that held you. I saved you from the Tarmangani. I am Korak, The Killer. I am your friend."

"Huh," grunted the king. "Yes, you are Korak. My ears toldme that you were Korak. My eyes told you that you were Korak.Now my nose tells me that you are Korak. My nose is never wrong. I am your friend. Come, we shall hunt together."

"Korak cannot hunt now," replied the ape-man. "The Gomanganihave stolen Meriem. They have tied her in their village.They will not let her go. Korak, alone, was unable to sether free. Korak set you free. Now will you bring your peopleand set Korak's Meriem free?"

"The Gomangani have many sharp sticks which they throw.They pierce the bodies of my people. They kill us. The gomangani are bad people. They will kill us all if weenter their village."

"The Tarmangani have sticks that make a loud noise and killat a great distance," replied Korak. "They had these whenKorak set you free from their trap. If Korak had run awayfrom them you would now be a prisoner among the Tarmangani."

The baboon scratched his head. In a rough circle about himand the ape-man squatted the bulls of his herd. They blinkedtheir eyes, shouldered one another about for more advantageouspositions, scratched in the rotting vegetation upon the chance ofunearthing a toothsome worm, or sat listlessly eyeing their kingand the strange Mangani, who called himself thus but who moreclosely resembled the hated Tarmangani. The king looked atsome of the older of his subjects, as though inviting suggestion.

"We are too few," grunted one.

"There are the baboons of the hill country," suggested another. "They are as many as the leaves of the forest. They, too,hate the Gomangani. They love to fight. They are very savage.Let us ask them to accompany us. Then can we kill all theGomangani in the jungle." He rose and growled horribly,bristling his stiff hair.

"That is the way to talk," cried The Killer, "but we do notneed the baboons of the hill country. We are enough. It willtake a long time to fetch them. Meriem may be dead and eatenbefore we could free her. Let us set out at once for the villageof the Gomangani. If we travel very fast it will not take long toreach it. Then, all at the same time, we can charge into thevillage, growling and barking. The Gomangani will be veryfrightened and will run away. While they are gone we can seizeMeriem and carry her off. We do not have to kill or be killed--all that Korak wishes is his Meriem."

"We are too few," croaked the old ape again.

"Yes, we are too few," echoed others.

Korak could not persuade them. They would help him, gladly;but they must do it in their own way and that meant enlistingthe services of their kinsmen and allies of the hill country. So Korak was forced to give in. All he could do for the presentwas to urge them to haste, and at his suggestion the king baboonwith a dozen of his mightiest bulls agreed to go to the hillcountry with Korak, leaving the balance of the herd behind.

Once enlisted in the adventure the baboons became quiteenthusiastic about it. The delegation set off immediately. They traveled swiftly; but the ape-man found no difficulty inkeeping up with them. They made a tremendous racket as theypassed through the trees in an endeavor to suggest to enemiesin their front that a great herd was approaching, for when thebaboons travel in large numbers there is no jungle creature whocares to molest them. When the nature of the country requiredmuch travel upon the level, and the distance between trees wasgreat, they moved silently, knowing that the lion and the leopardwould not be fooled by noise when they could see plainly forthemselves that only a handful of baboons were on the trail.

For two days the party raced through the savage country, passingout of the dense jungle into an open plain, and across thisto timbered mountain slopes. Here Korak never before had been. It was a new country to him and the change from the monotonyof the circumscribed view in the jungle was pleasing. But hehad little desire to enjoy the beauties of nature at this time.Meriem, his Meriem was in danger. Until she was freed andreturned to him he had little thought for aught else.

Once in the forest that clothed the mountain slopes the baboonsadvanced more slowly. Constantly they gave tongue to aplaintive note of calling. Then would follow silence whilethey listened. At last, faintly from the distance straightahead came an answer.

The baboons continued to travel in the direction of the voicesthat floated through the forest to them in the intervals of theirown silence. Thus, calling and listening, they came closer totheir kinsmen, who, it was evident to Korak, were coming tomeet them in great numbers; but when, at last, the baboons ofthe hill country came in view the ape-man was staggered at thereality that broke upon his vision.

What appeared a solid wall of huge baboons rose from theground through the branches of the trees to the loftiest terraceto which they dared entrust their weight. Slowly they wereapproaching, voicing their weird, plaintive call, and behind them,as far as Korak's eyes could pierce the verdure, rose solid wallsof their fellows treading close upon their heels. There werethousands of them. The ape-man could not but think of the fateof his little party should some untoward incident arouse evenmomentarily the rage of fear of a single one of all these thousands.

But nothing such befell. The two kings approached one another,as was their custom, with much sniffing and bristling.They satisfied themselves of each other's identity. Then eachscratched the other's back. After a moment they spoke together.Korak's friend explained the nature of their visit, and for thefirst time Korak showed himself. He had been hiding behind a bush. The excitement among the hill baboons was intense at sight of him. For a moment Korak feared that he should be torn to pieces;but his fear was for Meriem. Should he die there would be noneto succor her.

The two kings, however, managed to quiet the multitude, andKorak was permitted to approach. Slowly the hill baboons camecloser to him. They sniffed at him from every angle. When hespoke to them in their own tongue they were filled with wonderand delight. They talked to him and listened while he spoke. He told them of Meriem, and of their life in the jungle where theywere the friends of all the ape folk from little Manu to Mangani,the great ape.

"The Gomangani, who are keeping Meriem from me, are no friendsof yours," he said. "They kill you. The baboons of thelow country are too few to go against them. They tell me thatyou are very many and very brave--that your numbers are asthe numbers of the grasses upon the plains or the leaves withinthe forest, and that even Tantor, the elephant, fears you, so braveyou are. They told me that you would be happy to accompanyus to the village of the Gomangani and punish these bad peoplewhile I, Korak, The Killer, carry away my Meriem."

The king ape puffed out his chest and strutted about very stiff-legged indeed. So also did many of the other great bulls ofhis nation. They were pleased and flattered by the words ofthe strange Tarmangani, who called himself Mangani and spoke thelanguage of the hairy progenitors of man.

"Yes," said one, "we of the hill country are mighty fighters.Tantor fears us. Numa fears us. Sheeta fears us. The Gomanganiof the hill country are glad to pass us by in peace. I, for one,will come with you to the village of the Gomangani of the low places. I am the king's first he-child. Alone can I kill all the Gomanganiof the low country," and he swelled his chest and strutted proudlyback and forth, until the itching back of a comrade commanded hisindustrious attention.

"I am Goob," cried another. "My fighting fangs are long.They are sharp. They are strong. Into the soft flesh of many aGomangani have they been buried. Alone I slew the sister of Sheeta. Goob will go to the low country with you and kill so many of theGomangani that there will be none left to count the dead," andthen he, too, strutted and pranced before the admiring eyes of theshes and the young.

Korak looked at the king, questioningly.

"Your bulls are very brave," he said; "but braver than any isthe king."

Thus addressed, the shaggy bull, still in his prime--else hehad been no longer king--growled ferociously. The forestechoed to his lusty challenges. The little baboons clutchedfearfully at their mothers' hairy necks. The bulls, electrified,leaped high in air and took up the roaring challenge of their king. The din was terrific.

Korak came close to the king and shouted in his ear, "Come."Then he started off through the forest toward the plain that theymust cross on their long journey back to the village of Kovudoo,the Gomangani. The king, still roaring and shrieking, wheeledand followed him. In their wake came the handful of low countrybaboons and the thousands of the hill clan--savage, wiry, dog-likecreatures, athirst for blood.

And so they came, upon the second day, to the village of Kovudoo. It was mid-afternoon. The village was sunk in the quiet of thegreat equatorial sun-heat. The mighty herd traveled quietly now. Beneath the thousands of padded feet the forest gave forth nogreater sound than might have been produced by the increasedsoughing of a stronger breeze through the leafy branches ofthe trees.

Korak and the two kings were in the lead. Close beside thevillage they halted until the stragglers had closed up. Now uttersilence reigned. Korak, creeping stealthily, entered the treethat overhung the palisade. He glanced behind him. The pack wereclose upon his heels. The time had come. He had warned themcontinuously during the long march that no harm must befallthe white she who lay a prisoner within the village. All otherswere their legitimate prey. Then, raising his face toward the sky,he gave voice to a single cry. It was the signal.

In response three thousand hairy bulls leaped screaming andbarking into the village of the terrified blacks. Warriors pouredfrom every hut. Mothers gathered their babies in their arms andfled toward the gates as they saw the horrid horde pouring intothe village street. Kovudoo marshaled his fighting men abouthim and, leaping and yelling to arouse their courage, offered abristling, spear tipped front to the charging horde.

Korak, as he had led the march, led the charge. The blackswere struck with horror and dismay at the sight of this white-skinned youth at the head of a pack of hideous baboons. For aninstant they held their ground, hurling their spears once at theadvancing multitude; but before they could fit arrows to theirbows they wavered, gave, and turned in terrified rout. Into theirranks, upon their backs, sinking strong fangs into the musclesof their necks sprang the baboons and first among them, mostferocious, most blood-thirsty, most terrible was Korak, The Killer.

At the village gates, through which the blacks poured in panic,Korak left them to the tender mercies of his allies and turnedhimself eagerly toward the hut in which Meriem had been a prisoner. It was empty. One after another the filthy interiors revealedthe same disheartening fact--Meriem was in none of them. That she had not been taken by the blacks in their flightfrom the village Korak knew for he had watched carefully for aglimpse of her among the fugitives.

To the mind of the ape-man, knowing as he did the proclivitiesof the savages, there was but a single explanation--Meriem hadbeen killed and eaten. With the conviction that Meriem was deadthere surged through Korak's brain a wave of blood red rageagainst those he believed to be her murderer. In the distance hecould hear the snarling of the baboons mixed with the screamsof their victims, and towards this he made his way. When hecame upon them the baboons had commenced to tire of the sportof battle, and the blacks in a little knot were making a new stand,using their knob sticks effectively upon the few bulls who stillpersisted in attacking them.

Among these broke Korak from the branches of a tree abovethem--swift, relentless, terrible, he hurled himself upon thesavage warriors of Kovudoo. Blind fury possessed him. Too, itprotected him by its very ferocity. Like a wounded lioness hewas here, there, everywhere, striking terrific blows with hardfists and with the precision and timeliness of the trained fighter.Again and again he buried his teeth in the flesh of a foeman. He was upon one and gone again to another before an effective blowcould be dealt him. Yet, though great was the weight of hisexecution in determining the result of the combat, it wasoutweighed by the terror which he inspired in the simple,superstitious minds of his foeman. To them this white warrior,who consorted with the great apes and the fierce baboons, whogrowled and snarled and snapped like a beast, was not human.He was a demon of the forest--a fearsome god of evil whomthey had offended, and who had come out of his lair deep in thejungle to punish them. And because of this belief there weremany who offered but little defense, feeling as they did thefutility of pitting their puny mortal strength against thatof a deity.

Those who could fled, until at last there were no more to paythe penalty for a deed, which, while not beyond them, theywere, nevertheless, not guilty of. Panting and bloody, Korakpaused for want of further victims. The baboons gathered abouthim, sated themselves with blood and battle. They lolled uponthe ground, fagged.

In the distance Kovudoo was gathering his scattered tribesmen,and taking account of injuries and losses. His people werepanic stricken. Nothing could prevail upon them to remain longerin this country. They would not even return to the village fortheir belongings. Instead they insisted upon continuing theirflight until they had put many miles between themselves and thestamping ground of the demon who had so bitterly attacked them. And thus it befell that Korak drove from their homes theonly people who might have aided him in a search for Meriem,and cut off the only connecting link between him and her fromwhomsoever might come in search of him from the douar of thekindly Bwana who had befriended his little jungle sweetheart.

It was a sour and savage Korak who bade farewell to his baboonallies upon the following morning. They wished him toaccompany him; but the ape-man had no heart for the societyof any. Jungle life had encouraged taciturnity in him. His sorrowhad deepened this to a sullen moroseness that could not brookeven the savage companionship of the ill-natured baboons.

Brooding and despondent he took his solitary way into thedeepest jungle. He moved along the ground when he knew thatNuma was abroad and hungry. He took to the same trees thatharbored Sheeta, the panther. He courted death in a hundredways and a hundred forms. His mind was ever occupied withreminiscences of Meriem and the happy years that they hadspent together. He realized now to the full what she had meantto him. The sweet face, the tanned, supple, little body, thebright smile that always had welcomed his return from the hunthaunted him continually.

Inaction soon threatened him with madness. He must be onthe go. He must fill his days with labor and excitement that hemight forget--that night might find him so exhausted that heshould sleep in blessed unconsciousness of his misery until anew day had come.

Had he guessed that by any possibility Meriem might still livehe would at least have had hope. His days could have beendevoted to searching for her; but he implicitly believed thatshe was dead.

For a long year he led his solitary, roaming life. Occasionally hefell in with Akut and his tribe, hunting with them for a day or two;or he might travel to the hill country where the baboons had cometo accept him as a matter of course; but most of all was he withTantor, the elephant--the great gray battle ship of the jungle--thesuper-dreadnaught of his savage world.

The peaceful quiet of the monster bulls, the watchful solicitudeof the mother cows, the awkward playfulness of the calves rested,interested, and amused Korak. The life of the huge beaststook his mind, temporarily from his own grief. He came to lovethem as he loved not even the great apes, and there was onegigantic tusker in particular of which he was very fond--the lordof the herd--a savage beast that was wont to charge a strangerupon the slightest provocation, or upon no provocation whatsoever. And to Korak this mountain of destruction was docile andaffectionate as a lap dog.

He came when Korak called. He wound his trunk about theape-man's body and lifted him to his broad neck in response toa gesture, and there would Korak lie at full length kicking histoes affectionately into the thick hide and brushing the flies fromabout the tender ears of his colossal chum with a leafy branchtorn from a nearby tree by Tantor for the purpose.

And all the while Meriem was scarce a hundred miles away.