To Meriem, in her new home, the days passed quickly. At firstshe was all anxiety to be off into the jungle searching forher Korak. Bwana, as she insisted upon calling her benefactor,dissuaded her from making the attempt at once by dispatchinga head man with a party of blacks to Kovudoo's villagewith instructions to learn from the old savage how he cameinto 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 relativeto the strange character whom the girl called Korak, and ofsearching for the ape-man if he found the slightest evidence uponwhich to ground a belief in the existence of such an individual. Bwana was more than fully convinced that Korak was a creature ofthe girl's disordered imagination. He believed that the terrorsand hardships she had undergone during captivity among the blacksand her frightful experience with the two Swedes had unbalancedher mind but as the days passed and he became better acquaintedwith her and able to observe her under the ordinary conditions ofthe quiet of his African home he was forced to admit that herstrange tale puzzled him not a little, for there was no otherevidence whatever that Meriem was not in full possession of hernormal faculties.

The white man's wife, whom Meriem had christened "My Dear"from having first heard her thus addressed by Bwana, took notonly a deep interest in the little jungle waif because of herforlorn and friendless state, but grew to love her as well for hersunny disposition and natural charm of temperament. And Meriem,similarly impressed by little attributes in the gentle, culturedwoman, reciprocated the other's regard and affection.

And so the days flew by while Meriem waited the return of thehead man and his party from the country of Kovudoo. They wereshort days, for into them were crowded many hours of insidiousinstruction of the unlettered child by the lonely woman.She commenced at once to teach the girl English without forcingit upon her as a task. She varied the instruction with lessonsin sewing and deportment, nor once did she let Meriem guess thatit was not all play. Nor was this difficult, since the girl wasavid to learn. Then there were pretty dresses to be made to takethe place of the single leopard skin and in this she found the childas responsive and enthusiastic as any civilized miss of her acquaintance.

A month passed before the head man returned--a month thathad transformed the savage, half-naked little tarmangani into adaintily frocked girl of at least outward civilization. Meriem hadprogressed rapidly with the intricacies of the English language,for Bwana and My Dear had persistently refused to speak Arabicfrom the time they had decided that Meriem must learn English,which had been a day or two after her introduction into their home.

The report of the head man plunged Meriem into a period ofdespondency, for he had found the village of Kovudoo desertednor, search as he would, could he discover a single nativeanywhere in the vicinity. For some time he had camped near thevillage, spending the days in a systematic search of the environsfor traces of Meriem's Korak; but in this quest, too, had he failed. He had seen neither apes nor ape-man. Meriem at first insistedupon setting forth herself in search of Korak, but Bwana prevailedupon her to wait. He would go himself, he assured her, as soon ashe could find the time, and at last Meriem consented to abide byhis wishes; but it was months before she ceased to mourn almosthourly for her Korak.

My Dear grieved with the grieving girl and did her best tocomfort and cheer her. She told her that if Korak lived he wouldfind her; but all the time she believed that Korak had neverexisted beyond the child's dreams. She planned amusements todistract Meriem's attention from her sorrow, and she instituteda well-designed campaign to impress upon the child the desirabilityof civilized life and customs. Nor was this difficult, as she wassoon to learn, for it rapidly became evident that beneath the uncouthsavagery of the girl was a bed rock of innate refinement--a nicetyof taste and predilection that quite equaled that of her instructor.

My Dear was delighted. She was lonely and childless, and soshe lavished upon this little stranger all the mother love thatwould have gone to her own had she had one. The result wasthat by the end of the first year none might have guessed thatMeriem ever had existed beyond the lap of culture and luxury.

She was sixteen now, though she easily might have passed fornineteen, and she was very good to look upon, with her blackhair and her tanned skin and all the freshness and purity of healthand innocence. Yet she still nursed her secret sorrow, thoughshe no longer mentioned it to My Dear. Scarce an hour passedthat did not bring its recollection of Korak, and its poignantyearning to see him again.

Meriem spoke English fluently now, and read and wrote it as well. One day My Dear spoke jokingly to her in French and to hersurprise Meriem replied in the same tongue--slowly, it is true,and haltingly; but none the less in excellent French, such,though, as a little child might use. Thereafter they spoke alittle French each day, and My Dear often marveled that thegirl learned this language with a facility that was at timesalmost 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,to her own astonishment as well as to that of her teacher she hadused other French words than those in the lessons--used themproperly and with a pronunciation that the English woman knewwas more perfect than her own; but Meriem could neither readnor write what she spoke so well, and as My Dear considered aknowledge of correct English of the first importance,other than conversational French was postponed for a later 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 seena Frenchman in my father's company--he hated them and wouldhave nothing whatever to do with them, and I am quite sure thatI never heard any of these words before, yet at the same time Ifind them all familiar. I cannot understand it."

"Neither can I," agreed My Dear.

It was about this time that a runner brought a letter that,when she learned the contents, filled Meriem with excitement. Visitors were coming! A number of English ladies and gentlemenhad accepted My Dear's invitation to spend a month of huntingand exploring with them. Meriem was all expectancy. What wouldthese strangers be like? Would they be as nice to her as hadBwana and My Dear, or would they be like the other white folkshe had known--cruel and relentless. My Dear assured her thatthey all were gentle folk and that she would find them kind,considerate and honorable.

To My Dear's surprise there was none of the shyness of thewild creature in Meriem's anticipation of the visit of strangers.

She looked forward to their coming with curiosity and with acertain pleasurable anticipation when once she was assured thatthey would not bite her. In fact she appeared no different thanwould any pretty young miss who had learned of the expectedcoming of company.

Korak's image was still often in her thoughts, but it arousednow a less well-defined sense of bereavement. A quiet sadnesspervaded Meriem when she thought of him; but the poignantgrief of her loss when it was young no longer goaded herto desperation. Yet she was still loyal to him. She still hopedthat some day he would find her, nor did she doubt for a momentbut that he was searching for her if he still lived. It was thislast suggestion that caused her the greatest perturbation. Korak might be dead. It scarce seemed possible that one sowell-equipped to meet the emergencies of jungle life should havesuccumbed so young; yet when she had last seen him he had beenbeset by a horde of armed warriors, and should he have returnedto the village again, as she well knew he must have, he may havebeen killed. Even her Korak could not, single handed, slay anentire tribe.

At last the visitors arrived. There were three men and twowomen--the wives of the two older men. The youngest memberof the party was Hon. Morison Baynes, a young man of considerablewealth who, having exhausted all the possibilities for pleasureoffered by the capitals of Europe, had gladly seized upon thisopportunity to turn to another continent for excitementand adventure.

He looked upon all things un-European as rather more thanless impossible, still he was not at all averse to enjoyingthe novelty of unaccustomed places, and making the most ofstrangers indigenous thereto, however unspeakable they mighthave seemed to him at home. In manner he was suave and courteousto all--if possible a trifle more punctilious toward thosehe considered of meaner clay than toward the few he mentallyadmitted to equality.

Nature had favored him with a splendid physique and a handsomeface, and also with sufficient good judgment to appreciatethat while he might enjoy the contemplation of his superiorityto the masses, there was little likelihood of the masses beingequally entranced by the same cause. And so he easily maintainedthe reputation of being a most democratic and likeable fellow,and indeed he was likable. Just a shade of his egotism wasoccasionally apparent--never sufficient to become a burdento his associates. And this, briefly, was the Hon. Morison Baynesof luxurious European civilization. What would be the Hon.Morison Baynes of central Africa it were difficult to guess.

Meriem, at first, was shy and reserved in the presence ofthe strangers. Her benefactors had seen fit to ignore mentionof her strange past, and so she passed as their ward whoseantecedents not having been mentioned were not to be inquired into. The guests found her sweet and unassuming, laughing, vivacious anda never exhausted storehouse of quaint and interesting jungle lore.

She had ridden much during her year with Bwana and My Dear. She knew each favorite clump of concealing reeds along the riverthat the buffalo loved best. She knew a dozen places where lionslaired, and every drinking hole in the drier country twenty-fivemiles back from the river. With unerring precision that was almostuncanny she could track the largest or the smallest beast to hishiding place. But the thing that baffled them all was her instantconsciousness of the presence of carnivora that others, exertingtheir faculties to the utmost, could neither see nor hear.

The Hon. Morison Baynes found Meriem a most beautiful andcharming companion. He was delighted with her from the first. Particularly so, it is possible, because he had not thought tofind companionship of this sort upon the African estate of hisLondon friends. They were together a great deal as they werethe only unmarried couple in the little company. Meriem, entirelyunaccustomed to the companionship of such as Baynes, wasfascinated by him. His tales of the great, gay cities withwhich he was familiar filled her with admiration and with wonder. If the Hon. Morison always shone to advantage in thesenarratives Meriem saw in that fact but a most natural consequenceto his presence upon the scene of his story--wherever Morisonmight be he must be a hero; so thought the girl.

With the actual presence and companionship of the youngEnglishman the image of Korak became less real. Where beforeit had been an actuality to her she now realized that Korak wasbut a memory. To that memory she still was loyal; but whatweight has a memory in the presence of a fascinating reality?

Meriem had never accompanied the men upon a hunt since thearrival of the guests. She never had cared particularly for thesport of killing. The tracking she enjoyed; but the mere killingfor the sake of killing she could not find pleasure in--littlesavage that she had been, and still, to some measure, was. When Bwana had gone forth to shoot for meat she had always beenhis enthusiastic companion; but with the coming of the Londonguests the hunting had deteriorated into mere killing. Slaughter thehost would not permit; yet the purpose of the hunts were for headsand skins and not for food. So Meriem remained behind and spenther days either with My Dear upon the shaded verandah, or ridingher favorite pony across the plains or to the forest edge. Here she would leave him untethered while she took to the treesfor the moment's unalloyed pleasures of a return to the wild,free existence of her earlier childhood.

Then would come again visions of Korak, and, tired at lastof leaping and swinging through the trees, she would stretchherself comfortably upon a branch and dream. And presently,as today, she found the features of Korak slowly dissolve andmerge into those of another, and the figure of a tanned, half-naked tarmangani become a khaki clothed Englishman astridea hunting pony.

And while she dreamed there came to her ears from a distance,faintly, the terrified bleating of a kid. Meriem wasinstantly alert. You or I, even had we been able to hear thepitiful wail at so great distance, could not have interpreted it;but to Meriem it meant a species of terror that afflicts theruminant when a carnivore is near and escape impossible.

It had been both a pleasure and a sport of Korak's to rob Numaof his prey whenever possible, and Meriem too had often enjoyedin the thrill of snatching some dainty morsel almost from thevery jaws of the king of beasts. Now, at the sound of the kid'sbleat, all the well remembered thrills recurred. Instantly shewas all excitement to play again the game of hide and seek with death.

Quickly she loosened her riding skirt and tossed it aside--itwas a heavy handicap to successful travel in the trees. Her bootsand stockings followed the skirt, for the bare sole of the humanfoot does not slip upon dry or even wet bark as does the hardleather of a boot. She would have liked to discard her ridingbreeches also, but the motherly admonitions of My Dear hadconvinced Meriem that it was not good form to go naked throughthe world.

At her hip hung a hunting knife. Her rifle was still in its bootat her pony's withers. Her revolver she had not brought.

The kid was still bleating as Meriem started rapidly in itsdirection, which she knew was straight toward a certain waterhole which had once been famous as a rendezvous for lions. Of late there had been no evidence of carnivora in the neighborhoodof this drinking place; but Meriem was positive that the bleatingof the kid was due to the presence of either lion or panther.

But she would soon know, for she was rapidly approachingthe terrified animal. She wondered as she hastened onward thatthe sounds continued to come from the same point. Why did thekid not run away? And then she came in sight of the littleanimal and knew. The kid was tethered to a stake besidethe waterhole.

Meriem paused in the branches of a near-by tree and scannedthe surrounding clearing with quick, penetrating eyes. Where wasthe hunter? Bwana and his people did not hunt thus. Who couldhave tethered this poor little beast as a lure to Numa?Bwana never countenanced such acts in his country and his wordwas law among those who hunted within a radius of many milesof his estate.

Some wandering savages, doubtless, thought Meriem; butwhere were they? Not even her keen eyes could discover them.And where was Numa? Why had he not long since sprung uponthis delicious and defenseless morsel? That he was close by wasattested by the pitiful crying of the kid. Ah! Now she saw him.He was lying close in a clump of brush a few yards to her right.The kid was down wind from him and getting the full benefit ofhis 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 littleanimal's side and cut the tether that held him would be the workof but a moment. In that moment Numa might charge, and thenthere would be scarce time to regain the safety of the trees, yetit might be done. Meriem had escaped from closer quarters thanthat many times before.

The doubt that gave her momentary pause was caused by fearof the unseen hunters more than by fear of Numa. If they werestranger blacks the spears that they held in readiness for Numamight as readily be loosed upon whomever dared release theirbait as upon the prey they sought thus to trap. Again the kidstruggled to be free. Again his piteous wail touched the tenderheart strings of the girl. Tossing discretion aside, shecommenced to circle the clearing. Only from Numa did she attemptto conceal her presence. At last she reached the opposite trees.An instant she paused to look toward the great lion, and at thesame moment she saw the huge beast rise slowly to his full height. A low roar betokened that he was ready.

Meriem loosened her knife and leaped to the ground. A quickrun brought her to the side of the kid. Numa saw her. He lashedhis tail against his tawny sides. He roared terribly; but, for aninstant, he remained where he stood--surprised into inaction,doubtless, by the strange apparition that had sprung so unexpectedlyfrom the jungle.

Other eyes were upon Meriem, too--eyes in which were no lesssurprise than that reflected in the yellow-green orbs of the carnivore.A white man, hiding in a thorn boma, half rose as the young girl leapedinto the clearing and dashed toward the kid. He saw Numa hesitate.He raised his rifle and covered the beast's breast. The girl reachedthe kid's side. Her knife flashed, and the little prisoner was free.With a parting bleat it dashed off into the jungle. Then the girlturned to retreat toward the safety of the tree from which she haddropped so suddenly and unexpectedly into the surprised view of the lion,the kid and the man.

As she turned the girl's face was turned toward the hunter.His eyes went wide as he saw her features. He gave a little gaspof surprise; but now the lion demanded all his attention--thebaffled, angry beast was charging. His breast was still coveredby the motionless rifle. The man could have fired and stoppedthe charge at once; but for some reason, since he had seen thegirl's face, he hesitated. Could it be that he did not care tosave her? Or, did he prefer, if possible, to remain unseen by her? It must have been the latter cause which kept the trigger finger ofthe steady hand from exerting the little pressure that would havebrought the great beast to at least a temporary pause.

Like an eagle the man watched the race for life the girlwas making. A second or two measured the time which the wholeexciting event consumed from the moment that the lion brokeinto his charge. Nor once did the rifle sights fail to cover thebroad breast of the tawny sire as the lion's course took him alittle to the man's left. Once, at the very last moment, whenescape seemed impossible, the hunter's finger tightened ever solittle upon the trigger, but almost coincidentally the girl leapedfor an over hanging branch and seized it. The lion leaped 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 the girl fling a grimace at the angry, roaring, maneaterbeneath her, and then, laughing, speed away into the forest. For an hour the lion remained about the water hole. A hundred timescould the hunter have bagged his prey. Why did he fail to do so?Was he afraid that the shot might attract the girl and cause herto return?

At last Numa, still roaring angrily, strode majestically intothe jungle. The hunter crawled from his boma, and halfan hour later was entering a little camp snugly hidden inthe forest. A handful of black followers greeted his returnwith sullen indifference. He was a great bearded man, a huge,yellow-bearded giant, when he entered his tent. Half an hourlater 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 longexperience in dodging similar blows saved the presumptuous one.