Meriem returned slowly toward the tree in which she had lefther skirt, her shoes and her stockings. She was singingblithely; but her song came to a sudden stop when she camewithin sight of the tree, for there, disporting themselveswith glee and pulling and hauling upon her belongings, were anumber of baboons. When they saw her they showed no signsof terror. Instead they bared their fangs and growled at her.What was there to fear in a single she-Tarmangani? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

In the open plain beyond the forest the hunters were returningfrom the day's sport. They were widely separated, hoping toraise a wandering lion on the homeward journey across the plain.The Hon. Morison Baynes rode closest to the forest. As his eyeswandered back and forth across the undulating, shrub sprinkledground they fell upon the form of a creature close beside thethick jungle where it terminated abruptly at the plain's edge.

He reined his mount in the direction of his discovery. It wasyet too far away for his untrained eyes to recognize it; but ashe came closer he saw that it was a horse, and was about to resumethe original direction of his way when he thought that he discerneda saddle upon the beast's back. He rode a little closer. Yes, theanimal was saddled. The Hon. Morison approached yet nearer, and ashe did so his eyes expressed a pleasurable emotion of anticipation,for they had now recognized the pony as the special favorite of Meriem.

He galloped to the animal's side. Meriem must be within the wood. The man shuddered a little at the thought of an unprotected girlalone in the jungle that was still, to him, a fearful place ofterrors and stealthily stalking death. He dismounted andleft his horse beside Meriem's. On foot he entered the jungle.He knew that she was probably safe enough and he wished tosurprise her by coming suddenly upon her.

He had gone but a short distance into the wood when he hearda great jabbering in a near-by tree. Coming closer he saw a bandof baboons snarling over something. Looking intently he sawthat one of them held a woman's riding skirt and that others hadboots and stockings. His heart almost ceased to beat as he quitenaturally placed the most direful explanation upon the scene.The baboons had killed Meriem and stripped this clothing fromher body. Morison shuddered.

He was about to call aloud in the hope that after all the girlstill lived when he saw her in a tree close beside that wasoccupied by the baboons, and now he saw that they were snarlingand jabbering at her. To his amazement he saw the girl swing,ape-like, into the tree below the huge beasts. He saw her pauseupon a branch a few feet from the nearest baboon. He was aboutto raise his rifle and put a bullet through the hideous creaturethat seemed about to leap upon her when he heard the girl speak.He almost dropped his rifle from surprise as a strange jabbering,identical with that of the apes, broke from Meriem's lips.

The baboons stopped their snarling and listened. It was quiteevident that they were as much surprised as the Hon. Morison Baynes. Slowly and one by one they approached the girl. She gave notthe slightest evidence of fear of them. They quite surroundedher now so that Baynes could not have fired without endangeringthe girl's life; but he no longer desired to fire. He wasconsumed with curiosity.

For several minutes the girl carried on what could be nothingless than a conversation with the baboons, and then with seemingalacrity every article of her apparel in their possession washanded over to her. The baboons still crowded eagerly about heras she donned them. They chattered to her and she chattered back. The Hon. Morison Baynes sat down at the foot of a tree and moppedhis perspiring brow. Then he rose and made his way back to his mount.

When Meriem emerged from the forest a few minutes latershe found him there, and he eyed her with wide eyes in whichwere both wonder and a sort of terror.

"I saw your horse here," he explained, "and thought that Iwould wait and ride home with you--you do not mind?"

"Of course not," she replied. "It will be lovely."

As they made their way stirrup to stirrup across the plain theHon. Morison caught himself many times watching the girl'sregular profile and wondering if his eyes had deceived him orif, in truth, he really had seen this lovely creature consortingwith grotesque baboons and conversing with them as fluently asshe conversed with him. The thing was uncanny--impossible;yet he had seen it with his own eyes.

And as he watched her another thought persisted in obtrudingitself into his mind. She was most beautiful and very desirable;but what did he know of her? Was she not altogether impossible?Was the scene that he had but just witnessed not sufficient proofof her impossibility? A woman who climbed trees and conversedwith the baboons of the jungle! It was quite horrible!

Again the Hon. Morison mopped his brow. Meriem glancedtoward him.

"You are warm," she said. "Now that the sun is setting Ifind it quite cool. Why do you perspire now?"

He had not intended to let her know that he had seen her withthe baboons; but quite suddenly, before he realized what he wassaying, he had blurted it out.

"I perspire from emotion," he said. "I went into the junglewhen I discovered your pony. I wanted to surprise you; but itwas I who was surprised. I saw you in the trees with the baboons."

"Yes?" she said quite unemotionally, as though it was a matterof little moment that a young girl should be upon intimateterms with savage jungle beasts.

"It was horrible!" ejaculated the Hon. Morison.

"Horrible?" repeated Meriem, puckering her brows in bewilderment. "What was horrible about it? They are my friends. Is it horribleto talk with one's friends?"

"You were really talking with them, then?" cried the Hon. Morison. "You understood them and they understood you?"

"Certainly."

"But they are hideous creatures--degraded beasts of a lower order. How could you speak the language of beasts?"

"They are not hideous, and they are not degraded," replied Meriem. "Friends are never that. I lived among them for yearsbefore Bwana found me and brought me here. I scarce knewany other tongue than that of the mangani. Should I refuse toknow them now simply because I happen, for the present, tolive among humans?"

"For the present!" ejaculated the Hon. Morison. "You cannot meanthat you expect to return to live among them? Come, come, whatfoolishness are we talking! The very idea! You are spoofing me,Miss Meriem. You have been kind to these baboons here and theyknow you and do not molest you; but that you once lived amongthem--no, that is preposterous."

"But I did, though," insisted the girl, seeing the real horrorthat the man felt in the presence of such an idea reflected in histone and manner, and rather enjoying baiting him still further."Yes, I lived, almost naked, among the great apes and the lesser apes. I dwelt among the branches of the trees. I pounced upon thesmaller prey and devoured it--raw. With Korak and A'ht Ihunted the antelope and the boar, and I sat upon a tree limb andmade faces at Numa, the lion, and threw sticks at him and annoyedhim until he roared so terribly in his rage that the earth shook.

"And Korak built me a lair high among the branches of amighty tree. He brought me fruits and flesh. He fought for meand was kind to me--until I came to Bwana and My Dear I donot recall that any other than Korak was ever kind to me." There was a wistful note in the girl's voice now and she hadforgotten that she was bantering the Hon. Morison. She wasthinking of Korak. She had not thought of him a great dealof late.

For a time both were silently absorbed in their own reflectionsas they rode on toward the bungalow of their host. The girl wasthinking of a god-like figure, a leopard skin half concealing hissmooth, brown hide as he leaped nimbly through the trees tolay an offering of food before her on his return from asuccessful hunt. Behind him, shaggy and powerful, swung ahuge anthropoid ape, while she, Meriem, laughing and shoutingher welcome, swung upon a swaying limb before the entrance to hersylvan bower. It was a pretty picture as she recalled it. The otherside seldom obtruded itself upon her memory--the long, blacknights--the chill, terrible jungle nights--the cold and damp anddiscomfort of the rainy season--the hideous mouthings of thesavage carnivora as they prowled through the Stygian darknessbeneath--the constant menace of Sheeta, the panther, and Histah, the snake--the stinginginsects--the loathesome vermin. For, in truth,all these had been outweighed by the happiness of the sunny days,the freedom of it all, and, most, the companionship of Korak.

The man's thoughts were rather jumbled. He had suddenlyrealized that he had come mighty near falling in love with thisgirl of whom he had known nothing up to the previous momentwhen she had voluntarily revealed a portion of her past to him.The more he thought upon the matter the more evident it becameto him that he had given her his love--that he had been upon theverge of offering her his honorable name. He trembled a littleat the narrowness of his escape. Yet, he still loved her. There was no objection to that according to the ethics of theHon. Morison Baynes and his kind. She was a meaner clay than he.He could no more have taken her in marriage than he could havetaken one of her baboon friends, nor would she, of course,expect such an offer from him. To have his love would besufficient honor for her--his name he would, naturally, bestowupon one in his own elevated social sphere.

A girl who had consorted with apes, who, according to herown admission, had lived almost naked among them, could haveno considerable sense of the finer qualities of virtue. The lovethat 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 subjectthe more fully convinced he became that he was contemplatinga most chivalrous and unselfish act. Europeans will betterunderstand his point of view than Americans, poor, benightedprovincials, who are denied a true appreciation of caste and ofthe fact that "the king can do no wrong." He did not even haveto argue the point that she would be much happier amidst theluxuries of a London apartment, fortified as she would be byboth his love and his bank account, than lawfully wed to such aone as her social position warranted. There was one questionhowever, which he wished to have definitely answered beforehe committed himself even to the program he was considering.

"Who were Korak and A'ht?" he asked.

"A'ht was a Mangani," replied Meriem, "and Korak a Tarmangani."

"And what, pray, might a Mangani be, and a Tarmangani?"

The girl laughed.

"You are a Tarmangani," she replied. "The Mangani are coveredwith hair--you would call them apes."

"Then Korak was a white man?" he asked.

"Yes."

"And he was--ah--your--er--your--?" He paused, for he foundit rather difficult to go on with that line of questioningwhile the girl's clear, beautiful eyes were looking straightinto his.

"My what?" insisted Meriem, far too unsophisticated in herunspoiled innocence to guess what the Hon. Morison was driving at.

"Why--ah--your brother?" he stumbled.

"No, Korak was not my brother," she replied.

"Was he your husband, then?" he finally blurted.

Far from taking offense, Meriem broke into a merry laugh.

"My husband!" she cried. "Why how old do you think I am?I am too young to have a husband. I had never thought of sucha thing. Korak was--why--," and now she hesitated, too, forshe never before had attempted to analyse the relationship thatexisted between herself and Korak--"why, Korak was just Korak,"and again she broke into a gay laugh as she realized theilluminating quality of her description.

Looking at her and listening to her the man beside her couldnot believe that depravity of any sort or degree entered into thegirl's nature, yet he wanted to believe that she had not beenvirtuous, for otherwise his task was less a sinecure--the Hon.Morison was not entirely without conscience.

For several days the Hon. Morison made no appreciable progresstoward the consummation of his scheme. Sometimes he almostabandoned it for he found himself time and again wondering howslight might be the provocation necessary to trick him intomaking a bona-fide offer of marriage to Meriem if he permittedhimself to fall more deeply in love with her, and it wasdifficult to see her daily and not love her. There was aquality about her which, all unknown to the Hon. Morison, wasmaking his task an extremely difficult one--it was that qualityof innate goodness and cleanness which is a good girl's stoutestbulwark and protection--an impregnable barrier that onlydegeneracy has the effrontery to assail. The Hon. Morison Bayneswould never be considered a degenerate.

He was sitting with Meriem upon the verandah one evening afterthe others had retired. Earlier they had been playing tennis--a game in which the Hon. Morison shone to advantage, as, in truth,he did in most all manly sports. He was telling Meriem storiesof London and Paris, of balls and banquets, of the wonderful womenand their wonderful gowns, of the pleasures and pastimes of therich and powerful. The Hon. Morison was a past master in theart of insidious boasting. His egotism was never flagrant ortiresome--he was never crude in it, for crudeness was aplebeianism that the Hon. Morison studiously avoided, yetthe impression derived by a listener to the Hon. Morison wasone that was not at all calculated to detract from the glory ofthe house of Baynes, or from that of its representative.

Meriem was entranced. His tales were like fairy stories to thislittle jungle maid. The Hon. Morison loomed large and wonderfuland magnificent in her mind's eye. He fascinated her, andwhen he drew closer to her after a short silence and took herhand she thrilled as one might thrill beneath the touch of adeity--a thrill of exaltation not unmixed with fear.

He bent his lips close to her ear.

"Meriem!" he whispered. "My little Meriem! May I hopeto have the right to call you `my little Meriem'?"

The girl turned wide eyes upward to his face; but it wasin shadow. She trembled but she did not draw away. The manput 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 knewnothing of love. She had never given it a thought; but she didknow that it was very nice to be loved, whatever it meant. It was nice to have people kind to one. She had known solittle of kindness or affection.

"Tell me," he said, "that you return my love."

His lips came steadily closer to hers. They had almost touchedwhen a vision of Korak sprang like a miracle before her eyes.She saw Korak's face close to hers, she felt his lips hot againsthers, and then for the first time in her life she guessed whatlove meant. She drew away, gently.

"I am not sure," she said, "that I love you. Let us wait.There is plenty of time. I am too young to marry yet, and I amnot sure that I should be happy in London or Paris--they ratherfrighten me."

How easily and naturally she had connected his avowal of lovewith the idea of marriage! The Hon. Morison was perfectlysure that he had not mentioned marriage--he had been particularlycareful not to do so. 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 barbarian should have anydoubts whatever as to the desirability of the Hon. Morison Baynes.

The first flush of passion cooled, the Hon. Morison was enabledto reason more logically. The start had been all wrong. It wouldbe better now to wait and prepare her mind gradually for theonly proposition which his exalted estate would permit himto offer her. He would go slow. He glanced down at thegirl's profile. It was bathed in the silvery light of thegreat tropic moon. The Hon. Morison Baynes wondered if it wereto be so easy a matter to "go slow." 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 inthe 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 Londonwould love you. You would be a famous beauty in any capitalof Europe. You would have the world at your feet, Meriem."

"Good night!" she repeated, and left him.

The Hon. Morison selected a cigarette from his crested case,lighted it, blew a thin line of blue smoke toward the moon,and smiled.