The Son of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 129

still
lived. It was this last suggestion that caused her the greatest
perturbation. Korak might be dead. It scarce seemed possible that one
so well-equipped to meet the emergencies of jungle life should have
succumbed so young; yet when she had last seen him he had been beset by
a horde of armed warriors, and should he have returned to the village
again, as she well knew he must have, he may have been killed. Even
her Korak could not, single handed, slay an entire tribe.

At last the visitors arrived. There were three men and two women--the
wives of the two older men. The youngest member of the party was Hon.
Morison Baynes, a young man of considerable wealth who, having
exhausted all the possibilities for pleasure offered by the capitals of
Europe, had gladly seized upon this opportunity to turn to another
continent for excitement and adventure.

He looked upon all things un-European as rather more than less
impossible, still he was not at all averse to enjoying the novelty of
unaccustomed places, and making the most of strangers indigenous
thereto, however unspeakable they might have seemed to him at home. In
manner he was suave and courteous to all--if possible a trifle more
punctilious toward those he considered of meaner clay than toward the
few he mentally admitted to equality.

Nature had favored him with a splendid physique and a handsome face,
and also with sufficient good judgment to appreciate that while he
might enjoy the contemplation of his superiority to the masses, there
was little likelihood of the masses being equally entranced by the same
cause. And so he easily maintained the reputation of being a most
democratic and likeable fellow, and indeed he was likable. Just a
shade of his egotism was occasionally apparent--never sufficient to
become a burden to his associates. And this, briefly, was the Hon.
Morison Baynes of luxurious European civilization. What would be the
Hon. Morison Baynes of central Africa it were difficult to guess.

Meriem, at first, was shy and reserved in the presence of the
strangers. Her benefactors had seen fit to ignore mention of her
strange past, and so she passed as their ward whose antecedents not
having been mentioned were not to be inquired into. The guests found
her sweet and unassuming, laughing, vivacious and a never exhausted
storehouse of quaint and interesting jungle lore.

She had ridden much during her year with Bwana and My Dear. She knew
each favorite clump of concealing reeds along the river that the
buffalo

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