fastened to the wall with a sliver of wood. With a yelp of delight, Nkima leaped for it. Then he scampered out of the hut with his prize, raced across the clearing, and swarmed up to the topmost branches of a giant tree. Behind him came the little she.
By the time Nkima had succeeded in inserting the piece of paper in the notch at the end of the stick, his interest in the other things that he had seen in the hut had, monkey-like, waned.
Now he recalled the tall warrior who had brought the piece of paper in the end of the stick to Tarzan. Nkima decided that he would do likewise. He felt very important and was only sorry that he did not have a white plume to wave above his head.
Holding to this single idea for an unusually long time, Nkima raced back in the direction of the camp where he had left Tarzan and the Waziri.
It was late in the afternoon when he got there, and his little heart leaped into his throat when he discovered that his friends were gone.
He was very sad and a little frightened, although it was not yet dark; but when his lady friend came and sat close beside him, he felt better.
Unfortunately, this respite from despair was all too brief. The little band of monkeys to which his playmate belonged came trooping through the trees. They saw Nkima and the shameless young creature who had run away with him.
Jabbering, chattering, scolding, several of the males of the clan came swinging through the trees toward Nkima and his light-of-love. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, Nkima had visions of standing his ground and doing battle; but the leading male was an old fellow, very large and strong. His fangs were bared in a most disconcerting manner; and he voiced terrifying threats that made Nkima's heart quail, so that on second thought he determined to go elsewhere and go quickly; but his lady friend clung to him tightly, hampering his movements, for she, too, was frightened. Perhaps she did not want to lose Nkima who, after all, had a way with him.
The terrifying old monkey was approaching rapidly, and then Nkima did a most ungallant thing; he struggled to free himself from the lady's embrace, and when she only clung more tightly he tore at her arms to disengage himself, and then struck her in the face until she finally released him.
By now, Nkima was screaming in terror. The little she was screaming, and so were all the other monkeys. Bedlam reigned in the jungle; and to the accompaniment of this din of rage and terror, little Nkima broke away and fled; but through it all he had clung to his stick with its fluttering bit of paper, and now toward the north he bore it away like a banner, but scarcely triumphantly.
Some of the males pursued him for a short distance; but when terror impelled little Nkima only a bird on the wing might hope to overtake him; and so his pursuers soon gave up the chase.
For some time thereafter, Nkima did not reduce his speed; he continued to flee, screaming at the top of his voice.
It was only after he had almost reached the point of exhaustion that he slowed down and looked back, listening. In his mind's eye was the picture of the snarling visage of the old male; but he was nowhere to be seen, nor was there any sound of pursuit; so little Nkima took heart and his courage commenced to return. He even swaggered a little as though he were returning triumphant from a well-earned victory. Had he had a wife, he would have gone home to her and bragged of his exploits; there are men like that; so who may censure little Nkima who was only a monkey.
Presently he found the trail of Tarzan and the Waziri. He knew that they had been travelling north, and so he came down and sniffed the earth in the game trail that they had been following. Clear in his nostrils was the scent spoor of his friends. This heartened him, and he hurried on again.
Little Nkima moved through the trees many times faster than a man on foot. His fear of the coming jungle night held him to his purpose, so that he did not stop along the way to chase butterflies and birds.
That night he perched high among the smaller branches where Sheeta, the panther, cannot go.
Chapter 19 Hate and Lust
THE discovery that Annette was missing from the camp momentarily stunned the remaining members of the ill-fated expedition.
'What could possibly have become of her?' demanded Jane. 'I know that she wouldn't just have wandered off into the jungle. She was too much afraid of it.'
Brown advanced slowly upon Sborov. There was murder in his heart and it was reflected in his eyes. 'You know where she is, you rat,' he said. 'Tell me what you've done with her.'
Sborov fell back, instinctively raising his hands in defense. 'I know nothing about her,' he said; 'I was asleep.'
'You lie,' said Brown, still advancing.
'Keep away from me,' cried Sborov; 'don't let him get me, Jane; he'll kill me.'
'You're right I'm going to kill you,' growled Brown. It was then that Sborov turned and ran.
Brown sprang forward. In a dozen steps he had overtaken the terrified man and seized him by the shoulder. Screaming, Sborov wheeled to fight with all the mad ferocity of the cornered rat fighting for its life. He pounded and scratched and bit, but the American bore him to the ground and closed his fingers upon his throat.
'Where is she?' demanded the American. 'Where is she, you—'
'I don't know,' gasped Sborov. 'As God is my judge, I don't know.'
'If you don't know, you might as well be killed anyway, for you ain't no good for anything then nohow.'
Brown's fingers tightened upon the throat of the terrified Sborov, who still struggled and fought furiously to free himself.
All that it takes so long to tell happened in the span of a few brief seconds.
Nor during this time was Jane idle. The instant that she realized the gravity of the situation and that Brown was really intent upon destroying Sborov, she seized her spear and ran toward them.
'Stop it, Brown,' she commanded. 'Let the prince up.'
'Not 'til I've given him what's coming to him,' cried the pilot; 'and he's going to get it, even if I hang for it.'
Jane placed the point of her spear beneath Brown's left shoulder-blade and pushed until he felt the sharp point against his flesh.
'Drop him, Brown,' demanded Jane; 'or I'll run this spear straight through your heart.'
'What do you want to kill me for, Miss?' demanded Brown. 'You need me.'
'I don't want to kill you, Brown,' she said; 'but that fact won't do you any good unless you obey my command and remember that I am leader of this expedition. You are doing a foolish thing, Brown; you haven't any evidence to uphold your judgment. Remember, we haven't made the slightest investigation. We should do that first to determine the direction in which Annette left camp, and whether she left alone or was accompanied by another. We can also tell by examining the spoor if she went willingly or was taken by force.'
Slowly Brown's fingers relaxed upon the throat of the struggling, gasping prince; then he released him and rose slowly to his feet.
'I guess you're right, Miss,' he said; 'you're always right; but poor little Annette—what she told me yesterday about that rat made me see red.'
'What did she tell you?' asked Jane.
'He waylaid her yesterday and tried to take that piece of coat sleeve away from her, and then he threatened to kill her if she told. It wasn't no snake that made her scream yesterday, Miss, leastways not an honest-to-God respectable snake; it was him. She was terribly afraid of him, Miss.'
Alexis was gasping his breath back slowly. He was trembling from head to foot from terror.
'Is this true, Alexis?' demanded Jane.
'No,' he gasped. 'I just asked her for the coat sleeve so that I could see if it was really mine, and she commenced to scream just to get me in trouble. She did it just for spite.'
'Well,' said Jane, 'we're not accomplishing anything this way. The rest of you stay where you are while I look for some kind of tracks. If we all wander around looking for them, we'll obliterate any that there may be.'
