Tarzan the Terrible

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 174

could she leave him there to die of hunger or of thirst, or to
become the prey of some prowling beast. It were better then not to
search for him for fear that she might find him.

That day was one of nervous starting to every sudden sound. The day
before she would have said that her nerves were of iron; but not today.
She knew now the shock that she had suffered and that this was the
reaction. Tomorrow it might be different, but something told her that
never again would her little shelter and the patch of forest and jungle
that she called her own be the same. There would hang over them always
the menace of this man. No longer would she pass restful nights of
deep slumber. The peace of her little world was shattered forever.

That night she made her door doubly secure with additional thongs of
rawhide cut from the pelt of the buck she had slain the day that she
met Obergatz. She was very tired for she had lost much sleep the night
before; but for a long time she lay with wide-open eyes staring into
the darkness. What saw she there? Visions that brought tears to those
brave and beautiful eyes--visions of a rambling bungalow that had been
home to her and that was no more, destroyed by the same cruel force
that haunted her even now in this remote, uncharted corner of the
earth; visions of a strong man whose protecting arm would never press
her close again; visions of a tall, straight son who looked at her
adoringly out of brave, smiling eyes that were like his father's.
Always the vision of the crude simple bungalow rather than of the
stately halls that had been as much a part of her life as the other.
But he had loved the bungalow and the broad, free acres best and so she
had come to love them best, too.

At last she slept, the sleep of utter exhaustion. How long it lasted
she did not know; but suddenly she was wide awake and once again she
heard the scuffing of a body against the bark of her tree and again the
limb bent to a heavy weight. He had returned! She went cold, trembling
as with ague. Was it he, or, O God! had she killed him then and was
this--? She tried to drive the horrid thought from her mind, for this
way, she knew, lay madness.

And once again she crept to the door, for the thing was outside just

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