the son of tarzan-第47部分

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　faintly　through　the　tangled　forest。　　The　black　man　just　ahead　of　him　stopped；　too。

〃We　are　almost　there；　Bwana；〃　he　said。　　There　was　awe　and　respect　in　his　tone　and　manner。

The　white　man　nodded　and　motioned　his　ebon　guide　forward　once　more。　　It　was　the　Hon。　Morison　Baynesthe　fastidious　the　exquisite。　　His　face　and　hands　were　scratched　and　smeared　with　dried　blood　from　the　wounds　he　had　come　by　in　thorn　and　thicket。　　His　clothes　were　tatters。　　But　through　the　blood　and　the　dirt　and　the　rags　a　new　Baynes　shone　fortha　handsomer　Baynes　than　the　dandy　and　the　fop　of　yore。

In　the　heart　and　soul　of　every　son　of　woman　lies　the　germ　of　manhood　and　honor。　　Remorse　for　a　scurvy　act；　and　an　honorable　desire　to　right　the　wrong　he　had　done　the　woman　he　now　knew　he　really　loved　had　excited　these　germs　to　rapid　growth　in　Morison　Baynesand　the　metamorphosis　had　taken　place。

Onward　the　two　stumbled　toward　the　point　from　which　the　single　rifle　shot　had　come。　　The　black　was　unarmedBaynes；　fearing　his　loyalty　had　not　dared　trust　him　even　to　carry　the　rifle　which　the　white　man　would　have　been　glad　to　be　relieved　of　many　times　upon　the　long　march；　but　now　that　they　were　approaching　their　goal；　and　knowing　as　he　did　that　hatred　of　Malbihn　burned　hot　in　the　black　man's　brain；　Baynes　handed　him　the　rifle；　for　he　guessed　that　there　would　be　fightinghe　intended　that　there　should；　or　he　had　come　to　avenge。　　Himself；　an　excellent　revolver　shot；　would　depend　upon　the　smaller　weapon　at　his　side。

As　the　two　forged　ahead　toward　their　goal　they　were　startled　by　a　volley　of　shots　ahead　of　them。　　Then　came　a　few　scattering　reports；　some　savage　yells；　and　silence。　　Baynes　was　frantic　in　his　endeavors　to　advance　more　rapidly；　but　there　the　jungle　seemed　a　thousand　times　more　tangled　than　before。　　A　dozen　times　he　tripped　and　fell。　　Twice　the　black　followed　a　blind　trail　and　they　were　forced　to　retrace　their　steps；　but　at　last　they　came　out　into　a　little　clearing　near　the　big　afia　clearing　that　once　held　a　thriving　village；　but　lay　somber　and　desolate　in　decay　and　ruin。

In　the　jungle　vegetation　that　overgrew　what　had　once　been　the　main　village　street　lay　the　body　of　a　black　man；　pierced　through　the　heart　with　a　bullet；　and　still　warm。　　Baynes　and　his　companion　looked　about　in　all　directions；　but　no　sign　of　living　being　could　they　discover。　　They　stood　in　silence　listening　intently。

What　was　that！　　Voices　and　the　dip　of　paddles　out　upon　the　river？

Baynes　ran　across　the　dead　village　toward　the　fringe　of　jungle　upon　the　river's　brim。　　The　black　was　at　his　side。　　Together　they　forced　their　way　through　the　screening　foliage　until　they　could　obtain　a　view　of　the　river；　and　there；　almost　to　the　other　shore；　they　saw　Malbihn's　canoes　making　rapidly　for　camp。　　The　black　recognized　his　companions　immediately。

〃How　can　we　cross？〃　asked　Baynes。

The　black　shook　his　head。　　There　was　no　canoe　and　the　crocodiles　made　it　equivalent　to　suicide　to　enter　the　water　in　an　attempt　to　swim　across。　　Just　then　the　fellow　chanced　to　glance　downward。　　Beneath　him；　wedged　among　the　branches　of　a　tree；　lay　the　canoe　in　which　Meriem　had　escaped。　　The　Negro　grasped　Baynes'　arm　and　pointed　toward　his　find。　　The　Hon。　Morison　could　scarce　repress　a　shout　of　exultation。　　Quickly　the　two　slid　down　the　drooping　branches　into　the　boat。　　The　black　seized　the　paddle　and　Baynes　shoved　them　out　from　beneath　the　tree。　　A　second　later　the　canoe　shot　out　upon　the　bosom　of　the　river　and　headed　toward　the　opposite　shore　and　the　camp　of　the　Swede。　　Baynes　squatted　in　the　bow；　straining　his　eyes　after　the　men　pulling　the　other　canoes　upon　the　bank　across　from　him。　　He　saw　Malbihn　step　from　the　bow　of　the　foremost　of　the　little　craft。　　He　saw　him　turn　and　glance　back　across　the　river。　　He　could　see　his　start　of　surprise　as　his　eyes　fell　upon　the　pursuing　canoe；　and　called　the　attention　of　his　followers　to　it。

Then　he　stood　waiting；　for　there　was　but　one　canoe　and　two　menlittle　danger　to　him　and　his　followers　in　that。　　Malbihn　was　puzzled。　　Who　was　this　white　man？　　He　did　not　recognize　him　though　Baynes'　canoe　was　now　in　mid　stream　and　the　features　of　both　its　occupants　plainly　discernible　to　those　on　shore。　　One　of　Malbihn's　blacks　it　was　who　first　recognized　his　fellow　black　in　the　person　of　Baynes'　companion。　　Then　Malbihn　guessed　who　the　white　man　must　be；　though　he　could　scarce　believe　his　own　reasoning。　　It　seemed　beyond　the　pale　of　wildest　conjecture　to　suppose　that　the　Hon。　Morison　Baynes　had　followed　him　through　the　jungle　with　but　a　single　companion　and　yet　it　was　true。　　Beneath　the　dirt　and　dishevelment　he　recognized　him　at　last；　and　in　the　necessity　of　admitting　that　it　was　he；　Malbihn　was　forced　to　recognize　the　incentive　that　had　driven　Baynes；　the　weakling　and　coward；　through　the　savage　jungle　upon　his　trail。

The　man　had　come　to　demand　an　accounting　and　to　avenge。　　It　seemed　incredible；　and　yet　there　could　be　no　other　explanation。　　Malbihn　shrugged。　　Well；　others　had　sought　Malbihn　for　similar　reasons　in　the　course　of　a　long　and　checkered　career。　　He　fingered　his　rifle；　and　waited。

Now　the　canoe　was　within　easy　speaking　distance　of　the　shore。

〃What　do　you　want？〃　yelled　Malbihn；　raising　his　weapon　threateningly。

The　Hon。　Morison　Baynes　leaped　to　his　feet。

〃You；　damn　you！〃　he　shouted；　whipping　out　his　revolver　and　firing　almost　simultaneously　with　the　Swede。

As　the　two　reports　rang　out　Malbihn　dropped　his　rifle；　clutched　frantically　at　his　breast；　staggered；　fell　first　to　his　knees　and　then　lunged　upon　his　face。　　Baynes　stiffened。　　His　head　flew　back　spasmodically。　　For　an　instant　he　stood　thus；　and　then　crumpled　very　gently　into　the　bottom　of　the　boat。

The　black　paddler　was　at　a　loss　as　to　what　to　do。　　If　Malbihn　really　were　dead　he　could　continue　on　to　join　his　fellows　without　fear；　but　should　the　Swede　only　be　wounded　he　would　be　safer　upon　the　far　shore。　　Therefore　he　hesitated；　holding　the　canoe　in　mid　stream。　　He　had　come　to　have　considerable　respect　for　his　new　master　and　was　not　unmoved　by　his　death。　　As　he　sat　gazing　at　the　crumpled　body　in　the　bow　of　the　boat　he　saw　it　move。　Very　feebly　the　man　essayed　to　turn　over。　　He　still　lived。　　The　black　moved　forward　and　lifted　him　to　a　sitting　position。　　He　was　standing　in　front　of　him；　his　paddle　in　one　hand；　asking　Baynes　where　he　was　hit　when　there　was　another　shot　from　shore　and　the　Negro　pitched　head　long　overboard；　his　paddle　still　clutched　in　his　dead　fingersshot　through　the　forehead。

Baynes　turned　weakly　in　the　direction　of　the　shore　to　see　Malbihn　drawn　up　upon　his　elbows　levelling　his　rifle　at　him。　The　Englishman　slid　to　the　bottom　of　the　canoe　as　a　bullet　whizzed　above　him。　　Malbihn；　sore　hit；　took　longer　in　aiming；　nor　was　his　aim　as　sure　as　formerly。　　With　difficulty　Baynes　turned　himself　over　on　his　belly　and　grasping　his　revolver　in　his　right　hand　drew　himself　up　until　he　could　look　over　the　edge　of　the　canoe。

Malbihn　saw　him　instantly　and　fired；　but　Baynes　did　not　flinch　or　duck。　　With　painstaking　care　he　aimed　at　the　target　upon　the　shore　from　which　he　now　was　drifting　with　the　current。　　His　finger　closed　upon　the　triggerthere　was　a　flash　and　a　report；　and　Malbihn's　giant　frame　jerked　to　the　impact　of　another　bullet。

But　he　was　not　yet　dead。　　Again　he　aimed　and　fired；　the　bullet　splintering　the　gunwale　of　the　canoe　close　by　Baynes'　face。　Baynes　fired　again　as　his　canoe　drifted　further　down　stream　and　Malbihn　answered　from　the　shore　where　he　lay　in　a　pool　of　his　own　blood。　　And　thus；　doggedly；　the　two　wounded　men　continued　to　carry　on　their　weird　duel　until　the　winding　African　river　had　carried　the　Hon。　Morison　Baynes　out　of　sight　around　a　wooded　point。



Chapter　23

Meriem　had　traversed　half　the　length　of　the　village　street　when　a　score　of　white…robed　Negroes　and　half…castes　leaped　out　upon　her　from　the　dark　interiors　of　surrounding　huts。　She　turned　to　flee；　but　heavy　hands　seized　her；　and　when　she　turned　at　last　to　plead　with　them　her　eyes　fell　upon　the　face　of　a　tall；　grim；　old　man　glaring　down　upon　her　from　beneath　the　folds　of　his　burnous。

At　sight　of　him　she　staggered　back　in　shocked　and　terrified　surprise。　　It　was　The　Sheik！

Instantly　all　the　old　fears　and　terrors　of　her　childhood　returned　upon　her。　　She　stood　trembling　before　this　horrible　old　man；　as　a　murderer　before　the　judge　about　to　pass　sentence　of　death　upon　him。　　She　knew　that　The　Sheik　recognized　her。　　The　years　and　the　changed　raiment　had　not　altered　her　so　much　but　what　one　who　had　known　her　features　so　well　in　childhood　would　know　her　now。

〃So　you　have　come　back　to　your　people；　eh？〃　snarled　The　Sheik。　　〃Come　back　begging　for　food　and　protection；　eh？〃

〃Let　me　go；〃　cried　the　girl。　　〃I　ask　nothing　of　you；　but　that　you　let　me　go　back　to　the　Big　Bwana。〃

〃The　Big　Bwana？〃　almost　screamed　The　Sheik；　and　then　followed　a　stream　of　profane；　Arabic　invective　against　the　white　man　whom　all　the　transgressors　of　the　jungle　feared　and　hated。　〃You　would　go　back　to　the　Big　Bwana；　would　you？　　So　that　is　where　you　have　been　since　you　ran　away　from　me；　is　it？　　And　who　comes　now　across　the　river　after　youthe　Big　Bwana？〃

〃The　Swede　whom　you　once　chased　away　from　your　country　when　he　and　his　companion　conspired　with