Tarzan of the Apes

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 154

world is filled with sorrow."

"Gaberelle!" screamed Esmeralda, sitting up. "What is it now? A
hipponocerous? Where is he, Miss Jane?"

"Nonsense, Esmeralda, there is nothing. Go back to sleep. You are bad
enough asleep, but you are infinitely worse awake."

"Yes honey, but what's the matter with you, precious? You acts sort of
disgranulated this evening."

"Oh, Esmeralda, I'm just plain ugly to-night," said the girl. "Don't
pay any attention to me--that's a dear."

"Yes, honey; now you go right to sleep. Your nerves are all on edge.
What with all these ripotamuses and man eating geniuses that Mister
Philander been telling about--Lord, it ain't no wonder we all get
nervous prosecution."

Jane crossed the little room, laughing, and kissing the faithful woman,
bid Esmeralda good night.




Chapter XXIII

Brother Men.


When D'Arnot regained consciousness, he found himself lying upon a bed
of soft ferns and grasses beneath a little "A" shaped shelter of boughs.

At his feet an opening looked out upon a green sward, and at a little
distance beyond was the dense wall of jungle and forest.

He was very lame and sore and weak, and as full consciousness returned
he felt the sharp torture of many cruel wounds and the dull aching of
every bone and muscle in his body as a result of the hideous beating he
had received.

Even the turning of his head caused him such excruciating agony that he
lay still with closed eyes for a long time.

He tried to piece out the details of his adventure prior to the time he
lost consciousness to see if they would explain his present
whereabouts--he wondered if he were among friends or foes.

At length he recollected the whole hideous scene at the stake, and
finally recalled the strange white figure in whose arms he had sunk
into oblivion.

D'Arnot wondered what fate lay in store for him now. He could neither
see nor hear any signs of life about him.

The incessant hum of the jungle--the rustling of millions of
leaves--the buzz of insects--the voices of the birds and monkeys seemed
blended into a strangely soothing purr, as though he lay apart, far
from the myriad life whose sounds came to him only as a blurred echo.

At length he fell into a quiet slumber, nor did he awake again until
afternoon.

Once more he experienced the strange sense of utter bewilderment that
had marked his earlier awakening, but soon he recalled the recent past,
and looking through the opening at his feet he saw the figure of a man
squatting on his haunches.

The broad, muscular

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