at least five Japs apiece, if not more. They have become two fisted haters. No, I don't think we need worry about the outcome of the fight, if there was one. As the Americans would say, 'we did it before; we can do it again.''
'Very well,' said van Prins; 'we'll go with you. We can certainly use more rifles and ammunition. Possibly we should join forces. We can discuss that when we all get together. When do you want to start back?'
'I am going now,' replied Tarzan. 'We'll wait in the village for you.'
'We can go along with you,' said van Prins.
Tarzan shook his head. 'Not the way I travel, I'm afraid. By forced marches, you may make it by sometime tomorrow. I'll be back there tonight.'
The Dutchman gave a skeptical shrug; but he smiled and said, 'Very good. We'll see you some time tomorrow.'
Day was breaking as the outlaws emerged from the forest into a narrow valley. They had brought their supply of schnapps along with them, and most of them were drunk. More than anything else, they wanted to lie down and sleep. They made camp under some trees beside the little river that wound down the valley toward the sea.
Hooft said that the women could stand guard, as they had had some sleep the night before. As Sarina was the only woman who had not drunk during the night, she volunteered to stand the first trick. Soon the others were sprawled out and snoring. But Corrie could not sleep. Plans for escape raced through her mind, banishing thoughts of slumber. She saw that all but Sarina were dead to the world. Perhaps Sarina might succumb to fatigue, too. Then she could get away. She knew exactly where she was and where to find the trail, that led back to the village. Farther down the valley she would probably find the bones of the rhinoceros and the deer that Tarzan had killed. Just beyond, she would come to the trail that led up out of the valley and into the forest.
She eyed the weapons of the sleeping men and women. If she could but steal a parang without Sarina seeing her. She would only have to get close to the woman then. In time, her attention would be distracted. She would turn her head away. Then one terrific blow with the heavy knife, and Cor-rie, armed with rifle, pistol, and parang, would be far on her way to the village before these drunken sots awakened.
Corrie did not even wonder that she entertained such thoughts. Her once sheltered life had become a battle for mere existence. If enemies could not be eluded, they must be destroyed. And this woman was an enemy. Corrie feared her fully as much as she feared the men. She thought of her as a terrible creature, steeped in vice.
Sarina was still a comparatively young woman. She had the sultry beauty that so many Eurasian women have and the erect, graceful carriage that marks the women of Java and Sumatra , and the slimness and physical perfection. But Corrie saw her through eyes of hate and loathing.
Sarina was staring at Corrie, her brows puckered in concentration. Would the woman never look away. 'What is your name?' asked Sarina.
'Van der Meer,' replied the girl.
'Corrie van der Meer?' Sarina smiled. 'I thought so. You look like your mother.'
'You knew my mother?' demanded Corrie. 'You couldn't have.' Her tone suggested that the woman had insulted her mother's memory just by claiming to have known her.
'But I did,' said Sarina. 'I knew your father, too. I worked for them while you were in school in Holland . They were very good to me. I loved them both. When I got in trouble, your father hired a fine attorney to defend me. But it did no good. Justice is not for Eurasians, or perhaps I should say mercy is not for Eurasians. I was guilty, but there were circumstances that would have counted in my favor had I been white. That is all past. Because your father and mother were kind to me and helped me, I shall help you.'
'What is your name?' asked Corrie.
'Sarina.'
'I have heard both my father and mother speak of you. They were very fond of you. But how can you help me?'
Sarina walked over to one of the sleeping men and took his rifle and some ammunition from him. She brought them back to Corrie. 'Do you know how to get back to the village where they found you?'
'Yes.'
'Then get started. These drunken beasts will sleep a long time.'
'How can I thank you, Sarina?' she said. She thought, and I was going to kill her!
'Don't thank me. Thank your father and mother for being kind to an Eurasian. Do you know how to use a rifle?'
'Yes.'
'Then, good-by and good luck!'
Impulsively, Corrie threw her arms about the woman she would have killed, and kissed her. 'God bless you, Sarina,' she said. Then she swung oil down the valley. Sarina watched her go, and there were tears in her eyes. She touched the spot on her cheek where Corrie had kissed her, touched it almost reverently.
Corrie took advantage of the cover afforded by the trees that grew along the left bank of the river. It was much farther to the trail leading up out of the valley than she had imagined, and it was late afternoon before she saw it winding across the valley from the opposite side. She saw something else, too. Something that made her heart sink. Some natives were making camp for the night directly in her path, and there were two Jap soldiers with them. Now she would have to wait for darkness, and then try to sneak past them.
She climbed into a tree, and tried to make herself comfortable. She was very tired and very sleepy. But she did not dare sleep for fear she would fall out of the tree. At last she found a combination of branches into which she could wedge her body and from which she could not fall. She was very uncomfortable; but nevertheless she fell asleep, utterly exhausted.
When she awoke, she knew that she had slept for some time, as the moon was high in the heavens. She could see the fire burning in the camp of the natives. Now she could slip past them and reach the trail to the village. She was preparing to descend when she heard the coughing grunt of a tiger. It sounded very close. From a little distance there arose the barking and growling of wild dogs. Corrie decided to remain where she was.
Chapter 18
IT was late when Tarzan reached the village. Bubonovitch, who was on guard, challenged him.
'Colonel Clayton,' responded Tarzan.
Advance to be recognized, Colonel; but I know your voice anyway. And thank the Lord you're back.'
Tarzan approached. 'Something wrong, Sergeant?' he asked.
'I'll say there's something wrong. Corrie's been abducted,' then he told Tarzan all that he knew about the matter.
'And you couldn't find their trail?'
'There wasn't any.'
'There has to be,' said Tarzan.
'I sure hope you're right, Sir.'
'We can't do anything until morning. We'll start as soon as it's light.'
Jerry was on guard when Tarzan awoke at daylight. The American, anxious to get the search under way, had already routed out the others. They called Lara from her house. She was the only one of the natives they felt they could trust. Van der Bos talked to her. He told her that a band of guerrillas would arrive in the village sometime during the day, and instructed her to tell them what had happened and ask them to remain until the searchers returned.
When Corrie was safely out of sight of the camp of the outlaws, Sarina awoke the woman whom she thought had been most overcome by drink and told her to relieve her as guard. She said nothing about the escape of the prisoner, assuming that the woman's brain would be so befuddled that she would not notice. Sarina was right.
The guard was changed twice more before Hooft awoke. When he discovered that Corrie was missing, he was furious. He questioned all the women who had been on guard. Sarina insisted that Corrie had been there when she relinquished the post to another. The others insisted that the prisoner had not left while they were on duty. Hooft got nowhere. He had slept all day. It was now getting dark and too late to start a search. All he could do about it was to curse the women roundly and try to find solace in a schnapps bottle.
