The Son of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 182

the canoe in which Meriem had
escaped. The Negro grasped Baynes' arm and pointed toward his find.
The Hon. Morison could scarce repress a shout of exultation. Quickly
the two slid down the drooping branches into the boat. The black
seized the paddle and Baynes shoved them out from beneath the tree. A
second later the canoe shot out upon the bosom of the river and headed
toward the opposite shore and the camp of the Swede. Baynes squatted
in the bow, straining his eyes after the men pulling the other canoes
upon the bank across from him. He saw Malbihn step from the bow of the
foremost of the little craft. He saw him turn and glance back across
the river. He could see his start of surprise as his eyes fell upon
the pursuing canoe, and called the attention of his followers to it.

Then he stood waiting, for there was but one canoe and two men--little
danger to him and his followers in that. Malbihn was puzzled. Who was
this white man? He did not recognize him though Baynes' canoe was now
in mid stream and the features of both its occupants plainly
discernible to those on shore. One of Malbihn's blacks it was who
first recognized his fellow black in the person of Baynes' companion.
Then Malbihn guessed who the white man must be, though he could scarce
believe his own reasoning. It seemed beyond the pale of wildest
conjecture to suppose that the Hon. Morison Baynes had followed him
through the jungle with but a single companion--and yet it was true.
Beneath the dirt and dishevelment he recognized him at last, and in the
necessity of admitting that it was he, Malbihn was forced to recognize
the incentive that had driven Baynes, the weakling and coward, through
the savage jungle upon his trail.

The man had come to demand an accounting and to avenge. It seemed
incredible, and yet there could be no other explanation. Malbihn
shrugged. Well, others had sought Malbihn for similar reasons in the
course of a long and checkered career. He fingered his rifle, and
waited.

Now the canoe was within easy speaking distance of the shore.

"What do you want?" yelled Malbihn, raising his weapon threateningly.

The Hon. Morison Baynes leaped to his feet.

"You, damn you!" he shouted, whipping out his revolver and firing
almost simultaneously with the Swede.

As the two reports rang out Malbihn dropped his rifle, clutched
frantically at his breast, staggered, fell first to

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