"One . . . two . . . three . . ." counted Croft, as they capitulated. "Nice little bag of flappers, eh?" After those six weary hours of silence, I laughed aloud. It was, indeed, a fitting reward for our exemplary patience--and wouldn't Gran'pa (and Sally Rebecca) be pleased? "So that's that!" I said. "Now let's get into our gas masks." We donned our protectors, opened the door of the cage, and swaggered forth to truss up the fruits of victory. With the grace and skill that comes of long practice, we first bound and handcuffed the three younger females. Then we turned to the grandmother. It was at this point that the usual thing happened--the unexpected. It seems characteristic of any well-organized jungle always to spring some surprise on human intruders. About half-a-dozen yards to the rear of us, a sudden roll of thunder burst from the bush. Without attempting to finish the job we already had on hand, we swung round in the direction of the newcomer, just in time to see him advance into the open. He was extremely angry, as any faithful husband naturally would be at seeing one (or more) of his wives lying bound and helpless on the grass; and he signified his emotion in the usual theatrical way. First, he stood erect; then he smote himself on the chest, as if he were beating a drum; finally, he broke into a long roar, which ended in a series of staccato barks. I saw Croft shiver through his gorilla skin, and knew that he had a similar vision of me. Except for our disarming and feminine disguise, we were unprotected. In our haste we had left our revolvers in the cage. But, thank heavens, we had not turned off the gas. Therein lay our one hope of victory. Realizing the importance of pacific measures, I raised my gas mask for a moment and gave the low guttural call of the female to its mate. So did Croft. But the huge brute, which was now hardly a dozen feet away, was not going to be hoodwinked in this manner. He may have believed that we were friendly disposed females of his own race, but apparently he intended demanding an explanation of our conduct. What had we been doing to the others? Why were they lying there wounded? He struck himself again--and there we sat, gibbering with fear and contrition, in the midst of that invisible cloud of gas. "?*?*?" said Croft, softly and seductively. I tried to echo his sentiments, but couldn't. The great, terrifying bulk was so near that I could hear its breath coming out in deep gasps, could see into its cavernous mouth--black-lipped, white-fanged and hideous. My limbs were dead and useless, my throat dry, and my heart pounding madly at my ribs. I saw the brute raise his hand to strike, and waited for the shock with a half-stupefied feeling of resignation. But the blow never matured. At the last second of the eleventh hour, his energy and anger forsook him. With a deep groan, he lurched forward, blundered on to me (as I fell backwards), and sprawled face downwards on the grass.