The Return of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 191

food for both. The
men never spoke except as necessity demanded. Clayton now occupied the
section of the shelter which had been reserved for Jane Porter, and
only saw the Russian when he took food or water to him, or performed
the other kindly offices which common humanity required.

When Thuran was again able to descend in search of food, Clayton was
stricken with fever. For days he lay tossing in delirium and
suffering, but not once did the Russian come near him. Food the
Englishman could not have eaten, but his craving for water amounted
practically to torture. Between the recurrent attacks of delirium,
weak though he was, he managed to reach the brook once a day and fill a
tiny can that had been among the few appointments of the lifeboat.

Thuran watched him on these occasions with an expression of malignant
pleasure--he seemed really to enjoy the suffering of the man who,
despite the just contempt in which he held him, had ministered to him
to the best of his ability while he lay suffering the same agonies. At
last Clayton became so weak that he was no longer able to descend from
the shelter. For a day he suffered for water without appealing to the
Russian, but finally, unable to endure it longer, he asked Thuran to
fetch him a drink. The Russian came to the entrance to Clayton's room,
a dish of water in his hand. A nasty grin contorted his features.

"Here is water," he said. "But first let me remind you that you
maligned me before the girl--that you kept her to yourself, and would
not share her with me--"

Clayton interrupted him. "Stop!" he cried. "Stop! What manner of cur
are you that you traduce the character of a good woman whom we believe
dead! God! I was a fool ever to let you live--you are not fit to live
even in this vile land."

"Here is your water," said the Russian. "All you will get," and he
raised the basin to his lips and drank; what was left he threw out upon
the ground below. Then he turned and left the sick man.

Clayton rolled over, and, burying his face in his arms, gave up the

The next day Thuran determined to set out toward the north along the
coast, for he knew that eventually he must come to the habitations of
civilized men--at least he could be no worse off than he was here, and,
furthermore, the ravings

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