She tried to tell him that she could walk after a moment’s rest, but it
was soon evident that he did not understand her, as a puzzled
expression came to his face and he did not put her down as she asked.
Instead he stood irresolute for a time, and then moved slowly through
the jungle. By chance his direction was toward the camp, and this fact
so relieved the girl’s mind that presently she was far from loath to
remain quietly in his arms.
After a moment she gained courage to look up into his face. She thought
that she never had seen so marvellously clean cut features, or a more
high and noble countenance, and she wondered how it was that this white
man was upon the island and she not have known it. Possibly he was a
new arrival—his presence unguessed even by her father. That he was
neither English nor American was evident from the fact that he could
not understand her native tongue. Who could he be! What was he doing
upon their island!
As she watched his face he suddenly turned his eyes down upon her, and
as she looked hurriedly away she was furious with herself as she felt a
crimson flush mantle her cheek. The man only half sensed, in a vague
sort of way, the meaning of the tell tale color and the quickly averted
eyes; but he became suddenly aware of the pressure of her delicate body
against his, as he had not been before. Now he kept his eyes upon her
face as he walked, and a new emotion filled his breast. He did not
understand it, but it was very pleasant, and he knew that it was
because of the radiant thing that he carried in his arms.
The scream that had startled von Horn and Professor Maxon led them
along the trail toward the east coast of the island, and about halfway
of the distance they stumbled upon the dazed and bloody Sing just as he
was on the point of regaining consciousness.
“For God’s sake, Sing, what is the matter?” cried von Horn. “Where is
Miss Maxon?”
“Big blute, he catchem Linee. Tly kill Sing. Head hit tlee. No see any
more. Wakee up—all glone,” moaned the Chinaman as he tried to gain his
feet.
“Which way did he take her?” urged von Horn.
Sing’s quick eyes scanned the surrounding jungle, and in a moment,
staggering to his feet, he cried, “Look see, klick! Foot plint!” and
ran, weak and reeling drunkenly, along the broad trail made by the
giant creature and its prey.
Von Horn and Professor Maxon followed closely in Sing’s wake, the
younger man horrified by the terrible possibilities that obtruded
themselves into his imagination despite his every effort to assure
himself that no harm could come to Virginia Maxon before they reached
her. The girl’s father had not spoken since they discovered that she
was missing from the campong, but his face was white and drawn; his
eyes wide and glassy as those of one whose mind is on the verge of
madness from a great nervous shock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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