 CHAPTER XIII of THE JUNGLE GIRL by Gordon Casserly, the course of true love. As Miriam passed through the door, Wargrave started to follow her, but Violet cried preemptorily. Frank, stay here. Please realize that I come first now. Sit down. He obeyed mechanically. She went on, patently. These emotional scenes are rather exhausting. Do you mind calling the hotel boy and ordering a cocktail for me? You ought to have one yourself, I suppose. Like all men. You hate scenes. Then you should be grateful to me for saving you from that spiteful little jungle cat. Going to the veranda outside the room, he called the hotel servant, and gave him the order, then returned to his chair, and sat down wearily. He stared at the floor in silence. He had sent the girl that he had loved away utterly humiliated, and he knew that, with her proud spirit, the shame of his rejection of her would cut her to the heart. He cursed himself for bringing this pain to her. It was all his fault. Not only had he no right to speak of love to her, while he was bound to another woman, but he ought never to assort her society as he had done, never striven to gain her friendship. For, by doing so, he had unconsciously won her love. The harm was done long before he spoke to her of his feelings. What a selfish brute he was to thus cause two women to suffer. Presently he remembered that his moodiness, his silence, were uncomplementary, cruel to violet. She was right in saying that she came first. Indeed, she was the only one to be considered now. The other had passed out of his life. It might be that they should meet again some day in their restricted world. But while he could, he must try to avoid her. There was only violet left. He looked up to find his companion's eyes fixed on him with an undefinable expression. He roused himself with an effort that was not lost on the woman watching him. So you have told your husband, he said. Well now we must arrange what we are going to do. We won't discuss our plans at this moment, replied violet. I'm not in the mood for it. Then after a pause she added bitterly, I must give you time to recover from the shock of the abrupt ending to your little jungle romance. Before he could reply the servant appeared with a tray. Ah, thank goodness, here are the cocktails. There's only one. Are you having one too? It will do you good, no? She sipped her cocktails slowly. When she had finished it she got up from her chair, saying, I'll get ready to go to the amusement club. Will you wait for me here? You needn't change. We won't play tennis today. For we've got this dinner and dance on tonight and I don't want to tire myself. I shouldn't be long. As she passed his chair she tapped his cheek and said, Don't look so miserable, my dear boy. You'll soon get over the loss of your jungle girl. There, you may kiss my hand as a sign of your return to your allegiance. But when she entered her bedroom she did not at once proceed to get ready to go out, but unlocking her dressing case and, taking out of it a letter, sat down to read it for the tenth time, since she had received it this morning. Yet it was short and concise. It was from Rossenthal an address from the mess of the second Duke's own Hussars in Bangalore, for as it told her he had returned to his regiment as his lead hat expired. It was the first that had come from him since she had left Pune, although as he said in it he had obtained her new address from the Goni's clerk in the Munster Hotel office on the day of her flight, thanks to the persuasive powers of a fifty rupee note. He told her that although her abrupt departure had puzzled him, and he could not understand why she had tried to conceal her whereabouts from him, he wished her to realize that if it were an attempt to escape from him it was useless. He could bid his time, for sooner or later he would get her. Violet smiled as she read his confident words, although they caused a little shiver of fear to run through her. Then she rose, locked the letter away and put on her hat. Not until after lunch next day was Wargrave able to find time to go to the Oriental Hotel, not to see Muriel, he sternly told himself, but to pay a visit to Mrs. Dermott. When he was shown up to her sitting room he had to wait for some time before Noreen entered, and he was struck at once by the coldness of her greeting. It was evident that she was very displeased with him. She said no word about Muriel, and Wargrave felt curiously adverse to mentioning her name. At last he summed up courage to ask her, with as near an approach to fragility of manner as she could show to a man to whom she was so indebted. Noreen replied, Muriel has left our jeerling. Left our jeerling wherefore? Where has she gone? He exclaimed in surprise. To her father. But why? She wasn't to have left for weeks yet, said Wargrave. Mrs. Dermott looked at him angrily. Why, need you ask? I should have thought common sense would have told you. I don't think we'll talk about it, please. As I said before, I've washed my hands of the whole affair. Further conversation on the subject was rendered impossible by the interruption of her children who rushed at Wargrave and reproached him for not being to see them lately. During the next few days Violet baffled every attempt that Frank made to discuss their future course of action, the constant succession of guilloties, the balls, theatricals, concerts, races, jimmacoms, that filled every afternoon and evening of the jeerling season, took up all her time. Whenever he tried to talk matters over with her, she invariably replied that there was no hurry, even when he pointed out that Major Norton might arrive any day in consequence of her letter, that he had not already done so was inexplicable to Wargrave, and the subaltern could only believe her assurance that her husband accepted her loss with equal amity. It never occurred to Frank to doubt that she had written the letter. But one morning matters came to a crisis. When Violet and Wargrave returned to the hotel from their ride before breakfast, a telegram was handed to the latter. He found it to be an official message from Colonel Dermott, which ran, Please return forthwith to Rangoudoir. I start for Europe on sixth leave today. Frank stared at it in surprise. He had heard nothing of his superior officer being ill. It must be something very serious to necessitate his being sent to Europe. The news was an unpleasant shock to him, for he genuinely liked and respected the political officer. Then it occurred to him that this order to return brought everything to a head. Violet saw that he was perturbed. What is it, Frank, she asked? I'll tell you upstairs, dear, he said. In her sitting room he handed her the telegram. I must leave today. Will you be ready to come with me? He asked. What, today? My dear boy, it's impossible, she replied. But I must go. You see, it's imperative. The Colonel's already gone. Yes, I see you must. But, well, I simply couldn't be ready, said Violet calmly. Besides, I'm singing at the concert tomorrow night, and there's the dance at Government House the night after. I must follow you later. But that means you're travelling alone, he argued. Wouldn't it be much pleasanter for you to come with me? Don't worry about me for goodness sake, Frank. I'm not a helpless person. I came across India by myself to get here, and surely I'll be able to manage to do a twenty-four hours journey alone. Very well, dear, he replied with an inward, unacknowledged feeling of relief that the decisive step had not to be taken yet. I'll come down from Wangadwar with an elephant to meet you at the railway station when you arrive. Now, while you're changing for breakfast, I'll rush around to the Oriental and see if Mrs. Dermott has more news. When he reached the hotel, he found Noreen busily packing. She was pale and evidently deeply distressed, although outwardly calm and collected. You have heard? She asked as he entered her sitting room. Only that your husband is starting for England on sick leave, and that I'm to return at once. What's the matter? I hope it's not serious. Mr. McDonald wires that Kevin must go at once to England for an operation. He says I'm not to worry, as there is no immediate danger. But, of course, I can't help being alarmed. It's all so sudden. I didn't know that Kevin was ill. Mr. McDonald is traveling with him to the junction on the main line, where the children and I are to meet them. Isn't it kind of him? I'm so glad to know my husband will have someone with him until I come. We'll meet at the railway station after lunch then, said Wargrave. We'll be together as far as the junction. Mrs. Dermott hesitated. Are you traveling alone? She asked. Frank flushed as he replied. Yes. She, Violet, is to follow later. Noreen made no comment, and having learned all that he could, he returned to his hotel. He dreaded the ordeal of the parting with Mrs. Norton, but when the time came for it, he found his fear of a distressing scene quite uncalled for. She said goodbye to him in a pleasantly friendly, though somewhat casual manner, and did not offer to accompany him to the station as she had a previous engagement. And long before the little train had zigzagged down the seven thousand feet to the foot of the Himalayas, she had dismissed him from her mind. The truth was that the gay and admired Mrs. Norton caught up in the whirlwind of social amusement in a lively hill station was not the woman who passed weary days of Inuit in the company of a dull and unattractive husband in a small, dead and alive station, nor was the dejected man who so plainly showed that he was pining for someone else the good-looking, whole-hearted subaltern who had fascinated her in the boredom of existence in Rohar. Was he worth incurring social damnation for? Would his companionship, for she knew that she had not his love, make up for a life of loneliness, debt, and poverty in a frontier outpost? If she were resolved on giving up her present assured position, and Violet felt that existence with Norton would be more than ever unendurable after the exciting pleasures of Pune and Darjeeling, would it not be wiser to do so for someone who could amply compensate her for the sacrifice? Love in a cottage, or its Indian equivalent, a subaltern's comfortless bungalow, did not appeal to her. Her statement that she had written to tell her husband that she was leaving for Wardgrave was false. It had served the purpose for which it was made, and that was the defeat of her rival. So now, content with her victory, she put all burdensome thought from her and dined, danced, and flirted to her heart's content in the guilloties of the Darjeeling season. When Wardgrave reached Rengador, the little outpost seemed strangely forlorn, without the Dermots and their children. Major Hunt and MacDonald welcomed him warmly. The latter informed him that he had insisted on the Colonel going to England for his operation, because the political officer had not been out of India for seven years, and needed the change. And besides, he would receive more care and attention in a London nursing home than in an Indian hospital. The trouble was intestinal, but there was no immediate danger to his life. Another familiar finger was missing. Before departing, Dermot had released Bagshaw and left him to wander in freedom in the jungle, unwilling that his faithful companion of years should be servant to anyone else and confident that the elephant would come back to him when he returned to the Terai. Major Hunt placed one of the detachment elephants at Wardgrave's disposal whenever he required it to take him on his tours along the frontier, and Frank needed it constantly for, as soon as the news of Colonel Dermot's departure spread, the lawless spirits that, for fear of him had not ventured for five years to disturb the peace of the border began to show signs of restlessness. The political officer's strong personality and the reputation of divinity that he enjoyed had kept them in check, but now that he was gone they thought that they could defy with impunity the young Saheb who replaced him. So the assistant had not long to wait for an opportunity to show his medal. Dermot had not been gone a fortnight before one or two raids were attempted on British villages. By lawless mountaineers from across the Bhutan frontier, Wardgrave soon proved that the mantle of Colonel Dermot had not fallen on unworthy shoulders. Single-handed he intercepted and faced a party of Bhutanese swordsmen swooping down from the hills on a tea garden in search of loot, shot the leader and two of his followers and put the rest to flight. With a handful of sepoys of the military police he surprised a Bhutia village in the no man's land along the border line and captured a notorious outlaw who had plundered the Indian territory and had sent him a defiant challenge. Wardgrave was glad of the excitement and the occupation, for they kept him from brooding over his troubles and worrying about the future. He had not time to puzzle over violent silence. She had not written to him since their parting. As a matter of fact she seldom thought of him, so engrossed was she in the pursuit of pleasure. Admittedly the prettiest woman in Darjeeling that season, she received enough attention and admiration to turn any woman's head, and she enjoyed it all to the full. Although she had answered Rossenthal's letter from Bangalore he had not written again, but she felt that he was not forgetting her. She thought oftener of him than of Wardgrave, for the vision of the great riches that she might one day share with him fascinated her. It haunted her dream sleeping and waking. Often she let her fancy stray to the existence that he had promised would be hers when he was the possessor of his father's fortune. A life of luxury in the gayest cities of the world with all that immense wealth could bestow. A life infinitely better worth living than her present one. Would she ever be given the chance of it? The question was speedily and unexpectedly answered. One morning after breakfast she received a telegram from Rossenthal. It said, My father is dead. I sail from Bombay for South Africa on Friday to settle up his affairs. Will you come? She stared at the paper almost uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Then the meaning of the message dawned on her. She sat down at her writing table and thought hard. She had little time in which to make up her mind. For if she wished to reach Bombay before Rossenthal sailed, she would have to leave Darjeeling that afternoon. What should she do? Should she go? She found a pencil and a telegram form and addressed the latter to the husser. Then she hesitated. But she was not long in coming to a decision. With a firm hand she wrote the one word, yes, and signed her name. Then she rose from the table, called a hotel servant, dispatched the telegram, and went to her bedroom to pack. And the same train that took her away from Darjeeling carried a letter from her to Wargrave. But the subaltern did not receive it until more than a week afterwards, when he returned to Drangadwar with Tashi, after chasing back across the border a mongrel pack of Dacoit, Briggans, who had been herring Bhutia villages in British territory. The letter lay on the table in the room which he still occupied in the mess, although he was no longer an officer of the detachment. Together with a pile of correspondence that had accumulated during his absence, recognizing Violet's writing on the envelope, he tore it open anxiously. He rapidly scanned the first page, stared at it incredulously, read it again carefully, and then finished the letter. It ran, My dear Frank, I am going to relieve your mind of a great weight and send you into the seventh heaven of delight by giving you the glad news that you are never likely to see me again. Before the week is ended, I shall have left India forever with someone who can give me all I want, and not condemn me to a poverty-stricken existence in a wretched little jungle station, which is all that you had to offer me. I know it was not your fault, and you are really a dear boy. I was very fond of you, but you did not love me, and we would have been very miserable together. For you would be always pining for your jungle girl, and I would have hated you for it. Now we part good friends, and she is welcome to you. I ought to tell you that I did not really write to my husband, as I said I did. I wish you luck. Won't you wish me the same? Yours affectionately. Violet. When he had thoroughly grasped the meaning of this extraordinary letter, he forgave her everything in the joy of knowing that she had set him free. He did not speculate as to the man with whom she was going. His thoughts flew at once to Muriel, but his delight was tampered by the fear that his liberty had come too late to be of service to him with her. Would she ever forgive him? His heart sank when he remembered her indignation. Her bitter words, when they parted, surely no woman, who had been so humiliated, could pardon the man who had brought such shame upon her. Yet how could he have acted otherwise? It was natural that the girl should blame him, but how could he have been false to his plaited word, and desert the one who held his promise? If only he could see Muriel and plead with her. Perhaps in time she might bring herself to forgive him. But how was he to meet her? Now that Mrs. Dermott had gone to England, the girl would not come again to Rangoudoir. She was, he knew, accompanying her father in his tour of the force of the district in his charge. How could he go to their camp, or lonely bungalow in the jungle, and force his presence on her? What was he to do? Longing for someone to confide in, someone to advise him, he went to Major Hunt and told him the whole story. The older man rejoicing in learning of the subaltern's release from his entanglement, but knowing Miss Benson well, shook his head doubly over the chances of her forgiving war grave. Nevertheless, unwilling to kill the young man's hope, he affected a confidence that he was far from feeling and bade him to take courage. He advised him to arrange a few days' shooting in the neighborhood of the Bences, when he could spare the time from his duties. The father would be sure to offer him hospitality, and the daughter could not, well, avoid him. In the meantime he might write and plead his cause on paper. War Graves sat up half the night, composing a letter to Muriel. Sheet after Sheet was torn up in disgust, before he was even tolerably satisfied. But the labored result was never sent. Next morning after breakfast as he sat smoking in the mess, with Major Hunt and the doctor, his servant entered to tell him that a forest guard wanted to see him. A wild hope flashed through his mind that perhaps Muriel had sent him a message. But on going out to the back faranda where the man awaited him, he was handed an envelope. On his majesty's service, addressed in a strange handwriting, he opened it and glanced carelessly at the letter. But the first lines riveted his attention. Forest officers bungalow, barwana section, from the district superintendent of police, Bengal civil police, to the assistant political officer, Ranga Dwar. Sir, three days ago a party of Chinaman attacked and severely injured the deputy conservator of forest, Mr. Benson. In this bungalow and abducted his daughter, they were ten or twelve in number and well armed and over odd, the servants and forest employees. They have been tracked towards the Bhutan frontier and I fear have crossed it by this. There was unfortunately much delay in the information reaching me while I was touring the district south of the forest, and I have only just arrived here. I hasten to acquaint you with the occurrence, as I am powerless if the ruffians have crossed into Bhutan. Please request the officer commanding military police detachment to send out parties to try to cut off the raiders from the passes through the mountains, although I fear it is too late. Can you meet me here and confer with me? Please bring the medical officer of the detachment with you, as Mr. Benson is in a bad state and no civil surgeon is available for a great distance from here. Your obedient servant, Edward Lawrence, DSP. Horror stricken wore great question the forest guard. The man had not been at the bungalow at the time of the outrage, and could not greatly supplement the information contained in the letter. The story that he had learned from the servants was to the effect that a party of Chinaman had arrived at Mr. Benson's bungalow and asked for employment as carpenters. There was nothing unusual in this, as Chinese from the southern provinces frequently make their way on foot through Taibet and Bhutan over the mountains in search of work on the tea gardens or in Calcutta. Apparently they had suddenly struck the old man down, and surprised Ms. Benson before she could offer any resistance. Producing firearms they had terrified the servants. They had a mule hidden in the jungle, and on this the girl was placed and led off. Long after they had departed, some of the forest guards had timidly followed their track for some distance, and found that it led towards the Bhutan frontier. When Wargrave had extracted from the men all the information that he could, he rushed into the mess and acquainted the two officers in it with the terrible news. Like him they were horrified at the outrage. Major Hunt went at once to the fort to order out parties of the detachment in accordance with the district superintendent's request, and MacDonald got ready to proceed to the forest officer's bungalow 40 miles away. The assistant political officer dispatched a ciphered telegram to the foreign department, government of India at Simla, informing them of the occurrence and of his intention to investigate the affair personally, and if possible, rescue Ms. Benson. He knew that the heads of the department, although they would not sanctioned or approve officially of his crossing the frontier in pursuit of the raiders, as it would be contrary to the treaty with the Bhutanese government, would not inquire too closely into his movements. But whether they liked it or not, he intended to follow the abductors, if necessary, into the heart of Bhutan, treaty or no treaty. His first step was to send for Tashi and order him to prepare the disguise that he intended to use. His rifle he left behind but armed himself with a brace of long barreled automatic pistols, to which their wooden holsters clipped on to form butts, thus converting them into carbines, accurate up to a range of a hundred and fifty or two hundred yards. He found a third for Tashi in Colonel Dermott's armory, which was at his disposal. Knight had fallen long before the detachment elephant that bore Wargrave, MacDonald, Tashi, and the forest guard, as well as its own Mahut, reached the bungalow where the district superintendent of police awaited them. The doctor found Benson suffering from a wound in the head, with concussion and fever. Frank interrogated the servants carefully and elicited from them one fresh fact about the outage that shed a flood of light on its motive and its author. It was that the leader of the party was pockmarked and blind in the right eye, and this at once confirmed Frank's suspicion that the instigator of Muriel's abduction was the Chinese amban who, parting threat to the girl, had thus materialized. At daybreak, Wargrave and Tashi started on foot accompanied by a forest guard to put them on the track of the gang. This led up towards the Bhutan frontier, which runs among the hills at an average elevation of 6,000 feet above the sea. As the assistant political officer anticipated, the party had headed for the portion of the border under the control of the amban's friend, the penknop of Tuna. Inquiries among the inhabitants of the mountain villages resulted in several of them coming forward with the information that they had seen a small body of armed Chinese escorting a cloaked and shrouded figure on a mule and climbing up towards Bhutan. Two of the government secret service agents among these Bhutias had followed them cautiously to the frontier and seen them received there by a party of the Tuna Palopes armed retainers. These men reported that the watch on all the passes into Bhutan was stricter than ever, and as one of them phrased it, not even a rat could creep through unobserved. This discouraging intelligence was further proof of amban's guilt, but Frank realized that it would not be sufficient to justify the government of India claiming redress from the Republic of China, and indeed diplomatic procedure was much too slow to be of any use in the rescue of the girl, and appeal to the Bahaja of Bhutan would be equally fruitless for his powerful vassal, the Tuna Palope, was practically in rebellion against him and defied his authority. The sole hope of saving Muriel lay in Wargrave's prompt action. Yet, try as the subaltern would, he and Tashi were unable at any point to pierce the cordon of guards along the frontier. Generally, they got away unseen, but on one occasion they were discovered and had to flee back into British territory under a shower of arrows. Fortunately, firearms are scarce in Bhutan, and the Tuna Palope soldiers possessed only bows. It was imperative that Wargrave and his follower should be circumspect in their movements, and by day they hid in caves or in the jungle, clothing the slopes of the higher hills, to escape observation by Bhutanese spies. When they had exhausted the food that they had brought with them, and failed to procure any more from their secret service agents in the villages, Tashi gathered bananas, dug up edible tubers like the Charpedia or Charlong, and snare jungle fowl and mull presents. Having obtained a bow and a sheaf of arrows from a village, he sometimes succeeded in killing a goral, the active little wild goat formed in the lower hills, the flesh of which is excellent. As day after day went by and found them no nearer success in crossing the frontier, Wargrave began to lose heart. He was harassed by anxiety over Miriel's fate, and feared that he would never be able to rescue her. At times he grew desperate, and but for his companions remonstrances would have tried to fight his way through the border guards, although in his saner moments he knew that it would be sheer madness. Besides danger from human enemies, the two men were menaced by peril, from wild beasts as well. Panthers prowled among the hills. Great Himalayan bears, a blow from the paw of one, of which would crack a man's skull, wandered on the jungle clad slopes, and, though not carnivorous, were always ready to attack human beings. Herds of wild elephants, which had scaled the mountains into Bhutan at the beginning of the monsoon, to reach the northern face of the Himalayas, and escaped the heavy rains that deluge the southern slopes, and also to avoid the insects that plague them in the jungle at that season, were commencing to return to the Tarai. Often Wargrave and Tashi had to climb trees to let a herd go by, and each time as they watched them, the subaltern thought longingly of Colonel Dermot and Badshah, if he had them to help how easily he could burst the barrier between him and the land that held the girl whom he loved, and who needed him so. Late one afternoon, as the two men were making their way through bamboo jungle at the foot of high cliffs close to a pass into Bhutan, which they had not yet attempted, they blundered into the middle of a herd of elephants feeding. There was no tree in which they could take refuge, and before they were able to make their escape, they found themselves surrounded on every side. A number of cow elephants, which having young cows with them, were very savage, pressed threateningly towards the men, who tried to force their way into the dense growth of the bamboos, and so put a frail barrier between themselves and the menacing beasts. They knew that their pistols would be useless, and they had already given themselves up for lost when the huge animals which were apparently a boat to charge them suddenly stopped and drew aside to allow a monstrous bull elephant to pass through. It was a single tusker, and it advanced steadily towards the men. Frank stared at it incredulously. Could it be? Yes, it was. He was sure of it. It was Badshaw, and the elephant knew him and came towards him in the sudden revulsion of feeling, and his relief at knowing that they were safe, Frank almost lost his head. A mad hope surged through him. He stretched out his arms imploringly to the great beast, and cried impulsively, O Badshaw, hum, co, madad, doe, help us! To his amazement the animal seemed to understand. It sank slowly to its knees, and though inviting him to mount it. Sahib, Sahib, he offers us his aid, cried Tashi excitedly, and he scrambled up after war grave who had climbed on to the broad shoulders. The subaltern leaned forward, and, touching the huge forehead, pointed in the direction of Bhutan. Badshaw turned and moved off towards the pass, through the mountains, while the herd followed, and Frank thrilled with the hope that at last he was about to break through the barrier of foes between him and the girl he loved. End of Chapter 13 Recording by Linda Marie Nielsen, Vancouver, B.C. Chapter 14 Of The Jungle Girl by Gordon Casserly This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Linda Marie Nielsen, Vancouver, B.C. The Devil Dancers of Tuna Flat roofed, arcaded buildings terraced, one above the other, with gaily painted walls, from which covered wooden verandas and balks like lattice windows jutted out, surrounded a paved courtyard, its rough flagstones hidden by shifting many-colored throngs of gorgeously vestimented priests, mitred bishops, hideous demons, skeletons with grinning skulls, and weird creatures with papermache heads of bears, tigers, dragons, and even stranger beasts, wild but not inharmonious music, from shaven head members of an orchestra of weird instruments, gongs, shawns, symbols, long silver trumpets, deafened the ears, crowds of gaily clad spectators covered the flat roofs of the building and arcades, thronged the verandas, filled the windows, and squatted around the courtyard. These last kept in order by bullet-headed llamas with whips. It was the annual ceremony of the Devil Dance of the Great Buddhist Monastery of Tuna, one of the fantastic mystery plays, the now almost meaningless functions into which the ideal faith preached by Guatama, the Buddha, the High-Sold Reformer, has degenerated. From all parts of Bhutan, west of the dividing line of the Great Black Mountain Range, from Tibet, even from far distant Ladakh, the faithful had made pilgrimage to be present at the great festival in this most famous and sacred Gumpa of the land. Red llamas from Western Tibet and yellow from Lhasa, abbots and monks from little-known monasteries lost among the rugged mountains, nuns with close cropped hair from the confinance of Thimpu, Perro, and Poonakka, robber chiefs of the hapa and graziers from Sipchu, townsfolk from the capital and peasants from the fever-laden Himalayan valleys all had gathered there, for all who attended the sacred festival could gain indulgences that would save them a century or two sojourn in the hot or cold hells of their religion. In a gallery adorned with artistic wooden carvings and hung, with brocaded silk and gold embroideries sat a fat, bare-legged man with close cropped hair and scanty beard, wearing an ample red silk gown ornamented with Chinese designs, worked in gold thread. He was the pendlop of Tuna, the great feudal lord of the province whose high-walled zhong or castle crowned the rocky hill on which the monastery and the town were built. Behind him stood his officers and attendants, clad in silk or woollen kimono-like garments bound at the waist by gaily-worked leather belts from which hung handsome swords with elaborately wrought silver hilts inlaid with coral and turquoises and with gold-washed silver scabbards. The courtyard was gay with fluttering player flags, the poles of which as well as the wooden pillars of the arcades were hung with the beautiful banners artistically worked with countless pieces of color silks and brocades and needlework pictures of Buddhist gods and saints for which the monasteries of Bhutan are justly famed. From the blue sky the sun blazed on the riot of mingled hues of the decorations and the dresses of spectators and performers. Especially gorgeous were the robes of the high priests in the spectacle. They strongly resembled Catholic bishops in their gold embroidered mixtures, copes, and vestments as carrying pastoral crooks or sprinkling holy water they moved around the courtyard in sullen procession behind acolytes carrying sacred banners swinging censors and intoning harmonious chants troops of baffled demons fled as their approach howling in diabolic despair shuttering wretches clad in scanty rags groping blindly as in the dark wailed miserably and utterly weird long-drawn whistling notes shrank aside from the fleeing devils and stretched out their hands in supplication to the saintly prelates they were intended to represent the spirits of dead men straying in the period of bardo the 49 days after death during which the soul released from the body is doomed to wander in search of its next incarnation in his journey nings it is assailed and terrified by demons who can only be defeated by the prayers of pious lambas to genresi the great pittier the whole purpose of these representations is to familiarize during life the devote buddhas with the awful aspect of the many demons that will obstruct their souls after death and try to lead them astray when they are searching for the right path to the next world in which they are to begin a fresh existence on this strange bewildering spectacle an english girl looked down from a small balcony not 20 feet above the courtyard and the sight of her caused the attention of many of the spectators to wander from the mystery play the fat old panop frequently looked across the quadrangle at her from his gallery and as often uttered some coarse jest about her to his grinning followers well he raised a chest while he raised a chaste silver goblet filled with merwah the native liquor to his lips it was maryl benson for weeks she had been a prisoner in the lamissary cloistered in a suite of well furnished rooms and waited on by a close crop none she had been surprised in the bungalow and overpowered by three of the china men before she realized her danger or could seize a weapon with which to defend herself had she been able to snatch up a revolver she would have made a desperate fight for freedom but with feathered hands a helpless captive she had been carried away on a mule from the first she had recognized the pockmarked one eye leader of the gang as the ambance officer and so had known who was the author and cause of her abduction for days she had been born along up the rough track over the mountains through narrow high wall passes down deep valleys and across rushing torrents closely guarded but always treated with respect her captors used broken tibetan and butanese when they desired to communicate with her but they answered none of her questions she had dreaded reaching their destination where she expected to find one she hung awaiting her and once in fear of it she had tried to throw herself down a precipice along the brink of which the path ran after that she had been roped to a big powerful manchu on her arrival at the monastery she learned from her gargoulius none attended that the amban had been summoned to piquin where a revolution had taken place and his friends there hoped to make him president which he regarded as a step towards the imperial throne the monks of the monastery were his faithful allies on account of his relationship to the powerful abbot of the yellow lemma temple in the chinese capital they had agreed to guard his prisoner if his men succeeded in capturing her until he returned or sent for her at first the girl relieved of the dread of falling at once into his hands lived in the hope of a speedy rescue it was unfortunate she thought that colonel dermit with his extraordinary knowledge of an influence over the butanese had left india but even without him the power of the british empire would be set at once in motion to avenge this outrage on an english woman dermit's understudy the assistant political officer faithless lover though he was would do all he could to save her assuredly she would not have long to wait but as the days dragged by and she still remained a prisoner her heart sank she needed all her courage not to lose hope and give way to despair for she had always hanging over her the dread of one she hung's return but she had resolved to kill herself rather than fall into his hands for that purpose had bribed her cheery good nature attendant to procure a dagger for her she pretended that she wanted it as a protection in the lamissary for the door of her apartments was without a fastening even on the outside there was neither lock nor bolt for escape was considered impossible for her if she got out of the monastery she would be captured at once in the town she was not interfered with and saw no one but her none once or twice she ventured to creep down to the great temple of the monastery drawn by curiosity and the sound of harmonious buddhist chance in tone by the lamic choir but for her anxiety about her father and her dread of the ambience return her worst trial would have been the monotony of her captivity were it not for the memory of war grave and her unhappy love caused her many a sleepless night with nothing to occupy her mind she hailed the festival of the devil dance as a welcome distraction not even the important curiosity of the spectators could drive her from her balcony she followed the many phases with interest although she could not understand the meaning of them for the performance was a curious mixture of religion and blasphemous mockery of horseplay and coarse humor as well as a strange impressiveness a comic interlude would follow the most solemn act troops of devils burlesque the sacred rites of the faith and bands of comic masks filled the arena at times and delighted the audience by playing practical jokes on the spectators and each other the solitary white woman attracted their clownish humor and they danced in front of her balcony shouting out rude witnesses that cause much amusement to the lookers on fortunately the girl's command of the language fairly good though it was was insufficient to enable her to understand their course just but their intention to insult her became obvious the leaping howling mob of strangely apparel performers threatened to storm her balcony some climbed on each other's shoulders to get nearer her others even began to swarm up the pillars supporting her balcony to the delight of the audience the noisy mob eventually clamored up to the railing of the balcony and jesting laughing uttering wild cries perched on it and shouted and jeered at her her face flaming the girl drew back and was about to retire into her room when suddenly she stopped rigid with surprise for above the shouts of the maskers the roars of the spectators and the din of the clashing symbols and brained trumpets she heard her name spoken distinctly incredulous she stood rooted to the ground and stared at the yelling clowns perched on the railing the uproar redoubled but again she distinguished one word above all muriel a wild hope flashed into her heart pretending to be amused at the antics of the performers she advanced laughingly towards them they gestulated and shouted more furiously than ever but in the medley of strange sounds she distinctly heard the words it's i frank don't be afraid they seemed to come from the paper mache head of a grotesque serpent worn by a man who was foremost among her tormentors and wildest in his frenzied gestures smiling the girl stood her ground even when some of the maskers encouraged by her attitude climbed down from the rail and surrounded her dancing hallowing leaping the snake-headed one was the wildest in his antics and shrieked and shouted loudest of them all but mixed up with the incoherent cries and sounds she caught the words are you guarded a wild yell followed can you get out then he yelled like a mad jackal with wildly beating heart the girl pretended to repulse the advances of the maskers good humoredly and spoke to all in english telling them to leave her balcony and cease to molest her but with her laughing remonstrances she mingled the words i am not guarded i can leave my room i will go down to the temple and wait behind the statue of buddha then the serpent headed one aided by another with dragon mask both uttering fiendish yells pushed his companions back to the railing just as the pen loop spoke to one of his officials who shouted across to them an angry command to leave the white woman alone the scared maskers tumbled over each other in their hurry to quit the balcony thrilled with the light the girl watched them go and then when the entry of a fresh body of murmurs into the courtyard distracted the attention of the spectators from her she withdrew quietly to her room she was alone the none having gone long ago to witness the devil dance from among the crowd muriel opened the door leading to a broad stone staircase and peered cautiously out there was no one to be seen all the inhabitants of the monastery were gathered in the courtyard she stole carefully down to a side door of the lamissary chapel this temple was a large and lofty building richly ornamented with fine wood carvings rich brocades and elaborately embroidered banners and hangings the pillars supporting the roof were covered with copper plates beaten into beautiful patterns and the altars were of silver the chief one as in all butanese chapels being adorned by a splendid pair of elephants tusks idols abounded there was a central seated figure of buddha 30 feet high heavily guilt and studded with turquoise's and precious stones with a canopy and background of golden lotus leaves on either side were attendant female figures and images of buddha's gods larger than life size stood in double rows muriel concealed herself behind the colossal statue of buddha and had not long to wait before from her hiding place she saw two maskers the snake and the dragon enter the temple cautiously the latter remained on guard at the door while his companion who carried a bundle advanced furtively towards the great idol as he drew near he opened the jaws of the mask and said in a low tone muriel muriel are you here at the sound of the well-remembered voice the girl trembled violently her heart beat quickly as she came out from behind the statue when he beheld her the massacre lifted the snake's head off and muriel saw that the face revealed disguised and stained a dull yellow was that of her lover at the sight of it she forgot the painful past forgot her grievance against him forgot the other woman the sorrow that he had caused her and he sprang towards her with outstretched arms she cried oh thank god you've come dear frank caught her in his eager embrace then under the image of the great dreamer who taught that love is illusion that affection is error that desire but binds closer to the revolving wheel they kiss fondly passionately like two faithful lovers met again after a lifetime of parting and the grotesque devil gods around glared fiercely at them but the lord buddha looked mildly down on his sculptured face the ineffable calm of nirvana the peace of freedom from all desire attained at last but heedless of gods or devils the man strained the woman to his heart and reigned kisses on her lips her eyes her hair there was little time for dalliance danger encompassed them war grave produced from the bundle that he carried a mask and a costume with a pair of high felt sold boots which effectively disguised muriel then they joined tashi and the three passed out into the vestibule only just in time for here they found a group of llamas and peasants from a distant part of the country stopping for a moment to look at the great pictured cycle of existence painted on the wall before they entered the temple the vestibule opened on to a courtyard mind with the cells of the monks of the monastery and as this led to the great quadrangle in which the miracle play was being performed a stream of mummers llamas and laymen was passing through it mostly going to the spectacle though a few were coming away from it with muriel clinging closely to him war grave followed tashi as he pushed his way through the crowd exchanging jokes and careless banter as he went the rabbit warren of steep lanes flights of steps and bridges over ravines through the town built on the precipice slopes of the hill was almost deserted for most of the inhabitants had flocked to the devil dance so unmolested and unnoticed they reached the caravan sarai in which the two men had lodged for several days before the festival here they hurriedly changed their costumes when they emerged from it muriel her hair cropped almost to the scalp and your face stained a yellowish tint was garbed as a boy novice of the lamisserie in the priestly dress with a great rosary round her neck in one hand she held a begging bowl while with the other she guided the feeble steps of the aged llama whose disciple she was supposed to be behind them limped a lame lay brother of their monastery in this disguise the fugitives met with no hindrance as they quitted the town for the open country heading towards the south only when well clear of the houses did frank and muriel venture to converse in their own language wargrave narrated all that had happened to him since they had parted anyone watching them beyond earshot would have wondered at the joy that shone in the face of the young chella disciple clasping the hand of the old priest and gazing affectionately at him as they went along for frank was telling the girl a vilest letter which had set him free he described many fruitless attempts to cross the frontier his fortunate meeting with badshaw and the marvelous way in which the wonderful animal had helped him safely inside butan he and tashi had parted with the elephants in which appeared to be the same forest as the one in which colonel dermit and they had left the herd on their previous entry into the country frank had tried to imitate his chief in ordering badshaw to meet him there again but he was very doubtful of the result they had not found it difficult to follow the trail left by muriel's abductors for once inside the border the china men had not tried to hide themselves at every village along the rough road tashi had learned of their passing with their captive so the two had followed them without difficulty to tuna where they soon discovered where the girl was imprisoned the festival had offered them an unhoped for opportunity of reaching her tashi once a star performer in similar devil dances in his own monastery procured costumes and taught his companion what to do as the number of those taking part in the performances ran to hundreds it was easy to slip in unobserved among them then muriel told of her adventures but far more interesting to both than the details of these mere happenings each revealed to the other the longings the love the hopes and fears that had filled his and her heart during the unhappy period of their estrangement now began a wonderful odyssey that but for the dread of pursuit and capture would have seen a journey in fairyland to the reunited lovers indeed as they traveled on day after day and danger seen left behind they forgot everything in the joy of being together once more their vows exchanged their faith pledged the future along fista of golden days of delight it was well that tashi was with them to be on the watch for the lovers walked with their heads in the clouds and certainly theirs was an interesting pilgrimage but then is perhaps the least known country in asia the last that has kept is cherished seclusion since anglo-indian troops burst the barrier of to bet and flaunted the union jack in the streets of the fabled city of lhasa but butan is still a secret a mysterious land only a few british envoys from bogel in the latter half of the eighteenth century to claude white and bell in the beginning of this and their companions had intruded on its privacy before colonel dermit so that for the lovers it had all the fascination of the unknown sometimes among the ice-clad peaks of the giant ranges of the himalayas they cross snowy passes fourteen thousand feet above the sea and did not neglect to throw a stone upon the oboes the cairns that pious and superstitious travelers erect to propotate the spirits of the passes sometimes a path lit under beautiful cliffs of pure white crystalline limestone that in the brilliant sunlight shone like the finest marble often they journey through a lovely land of gently sloping hills of grassy uplands of deep valleys giving delightful vistas of snow-clad mountains far away they walk through pine woods through forests of maple silver fir and larch and miles of huge bushes of flowering rhododendrons they toiled up a rough and stony track over bare and desolate land that was an old moraine and under moraine terraces one above another forming giant spurs of the rugged hills there were dark and fearsome ravines so deep that they could scarcely hear the roar of the foaming torrents rushing among the great boulders below as they crossed on swaying suspension bridges of iron chains these had been built hundreds of years before by long forgotten chinese engineers three chains on one level supported the bamboo or plank footway while one on either side served as a handrail and a bamboo or grass latticework between them and the road bears hid from sight the deep gorge below often these bridges were only of ropes of twisted widths or grass and swung and swayed in terrifying fashion with the motion of the traveler there were broad rivers over the edaene swirling waters of which strong cantilever bridges of stout wooden beams were pushed out from the steep banks truly a beautiful land butan at its lovelace perhaps in spring when the hills and upland meadows where the yaks graze 10 000 feet above the sea blaze with the mingled colors of anemones blue and white of yellow pansies and mauve and white irises of large and white roses and small yellow ones of giant yellow primulas with six tiers of flowers when the oaks and the chestnuts are clothed in young green and the apricot pear and orange trees are in bloom where large and lovely blossoms cover that little known tree that the butanese call chap when the bright green of the young grass runs up to the white snow fields the woods are full of a pretty ground orchid beautiful trailing blossoms of others droop from the boughs of the great trees and on the magnesium limestone hills one of the rarest orchids grows in profusion but to the two pilgrims of love the land seemed beautiful even now that the winter was not far distant in the silent woods hidden from prying eyes they sat hand in hand and whispered to each other over and over again the oldest sweetest story that the earth has known strange to hear words of love from the lips of such a weird-looking couple yet muriel in her quaint disguise with her silky hair cropped to the scalp was as beautiful in her lover's eyes as when he had seen her in her prettiest frogs and she thought the yellow skin wrinkled old lama indefinitely more attractive than the gay young subaltern of rangadouard for he was her own now such is lovers glamour muriel had forgiven royally butan is a buddhist ruled land therefore slaying for sport and fishing in the rivers is prohibited nay more the mara jaw sometimes forbids the killing of even domestic animals for food so wildlife abounds the fugitives often saw flocks of burhell called now in butan feeding on the precipitous slopes of the higher hills once frank and muriel excitedly watched a snow leopard stalking one of these big horns sheep sixteen thousand feet above the sea level and in these heights they even saw an occasional lynx or wolf generally only to be found in the highest elevations bordering on to bet silver-haired langure apes the white fringes around their black faces giving them a comic resemblance to age negroes awoke the echoes of the mountains with their deep booming cry while in the lower valleys little brown monkeys mopped and mowed from the trees at the fugitives as they passed on one occasion muriel exhilarated by the keen life-giving air ran gaily on ahead of the others in a wood and came on a tiger enjoying its midday siesta but the striped beaut only uttered a startled whoo whoo like a big dog and dashed away through the undergrowth another time they disturbed a red bear feeding on the carcass of a strange beast that seemed a mixture of goat donkey and deer tashi called it a sero and at a lower elevation they blundered on two black bears not flesh eaters these yet more dangerous grubbing for roots and on another occasion saw one climbing a tree in search of wild bees nests in a dense jungle early one morning a beautiful black panther with a skin like watered silk glided stealthily by them showing its white fangs and red mouth in an angry snarl as it went and deep down in a valley they espied a rhinoceros feeding a thousand feet below them but they came across no elephants and frank noted the fact despairingly as rendering even less probable a meeting with badshaw and his herd bird life abounded from the snow partages that flew in the hills eighteen thousand feet high to pigeons of every kind birds of all sizes from great eagles to the little quails that hid in the cornfields laminers that were fed on human bodies the dead of families of high degree exposed on a flat rock of slate with head and shoulders tied to a wooden axle that stretched the corpse like a rack in butan ordinary folk are cremated on their journey the fugitives met with wayfarers of every rank and class on a steep mountain track they stood aside to let a high official go by he was sitting pick a back in a cloth on a powerfully built servant the ends of the cloth knotted on the band's fork head behind trudged an escort of bare-legged swordsmen with leather shields and shining steel helmets coulis male and female followed carrying the great man's baggage in baskets placed in the crutch of fork sticks tied on their backs sometimes they passed a rival llama glaring with jealous eye at them often they met groups of riots sturdy peasants thick limbed barefooted bareheaded the women clear eyed deep bosomed but uglier than the males these did reverence to the holy men and put their modest offerings of copper coins or food into marials begging bowl another time it was a family group at food eating by the wayside the group consisted of a stout ruddy face woman with close cropped hair hung with many necklaces of coral and turquoise and weighted on by her three meek and submissive husbands all brothers for this is a land of polyandry she invited the fugitives to share their meal and bade her dutiful spouses serve the supposed lambas they proffered cooked rice colored with saffron and other food in the excellent boutonnese baskets woven with very finely split cane these are made in two circular parts with rounded top and bottom pieces fitting so well that water can actually be carried in them from sealed wicker covered bamboos the host filled chungas bamboo mugs with merwah the beer of the country and chang the native spirit frank and mario refused the liquor but tashi drank their share as well as his to give the peas peasants an opportunity of acquiring merit and wife and husbands thought themselves amply rewarded by and muttered blessing a very different figure was that of a man named of the right leg and limping painfully down a steep hill in front of the fugitives muriel full of pity whispered to her lover after they had passed him oh the poor wretch did you see dear he had lost the right hand as well but she shuddered when she learned that the cripple was a murderer punished by the severing of the tendons of the leg and the loss of the hand that struck the fatal blow in the cultivated valleys where barley buckwheat and mustard grew there were everywhere evidences of the religious feeling of the western butanese every hill was crowned with a gampa or chapel chortons and praying wheels stood beside the road and mendongs or praying walls a mile long their stones engraved with sacred words were built near habitations in the villages the disguised fugitives were well treated food and lodging were offered them freely in the cabins as in the great houses of officials and rich folks where they spent hours watching the skilled artesians among the feudal retainers of their hosts weaving silk making bullen and cotton garments brocade and embroideries or hammering artistic designs on silver or copper plates backed with lack none suspected the three of being other than they seemed the buddhism of butan and tibet today has but one article of faith acquire merit by feeding and paying the llamas and they will win salvation for you so rich and poor vied in giving their best to the holy wayfarers and sought not to intrude on the meditations or privacy of lama and chila and welcome the cheery company of the more worldly lay brother who could crack a joke or empty a mug with any man and pitched the stone quits or shoot an arrow in the archery contest better than the village champion thus contentedly and free from care the three fugitives wandered on towards the south where on the frontier they expected their troubles to begin one day when passing a hamlet by the roadside they tarried to look on at a wedding at which a buxom country made was being married to a family of six brothers the village headman performed the simple ceremony which consisted of offering a bowl of merwah to the gods then presenting a cupful to the bride an eldest bridegroom blessing them and expressing a hope that the union might be a fruitful one the rest after the usual presence had been given to the bride's relatives was simply a matter of feasting everyone the stranger lambas were invited to join but frank refused and dragged away the convivial tashi who was anxious to accept the invitation war grave with difficulty led him aside and was so occupied in arguing with his disc contented guide that he did not notice that muriel had not followed a sudden cry from her and his name shriek out wildly made him turn in alarm to his horror he saw the girl struggling in the grasp of a chinamen while another on a mule and holding the bridle of a second animal was calling on the villagers in the penlop's name to assist his comrade end of chapter 14 recording by linda mary nielson vancouver bc chapter number 15 of the jungle girl by gordon casserly this libra vox recording is in the public domain recording by linda mary nielson vancouver bc a strange rescue neither muriel absorbed in watching the wedding nor the two men engrossed in their dispute had noticed the chinese come riding along the road and pulling up when they saw the peasants gathered together one of them had been about to question the villagers from his saddle when his eyes fell on the disguised girl standing apart from the crowd he stared at her for a few moments then he spoke hurriedly to his companions and springing from the mules back sees muriel in a rough grasp at her cry frank ran back forgetting his disguise he recognized in her assailant the pockmarked officer of the amben the man seeing him coming drew a revolver but war grave whipped out his pistol quicker and without hesitation shot him through the heart the chinamen collapsed to the ground and in his fall dragged the girl down his comrade fired at his slayer and missing him wheeled his mule around and galloped off tashi returned the shot while frank ran to muriel he fired several times and the rider was apparently hit for he fell forward on the neck of his animal but he recovered himself and crouching low was still in the saddle when a turn in the road hit him from sight the startled villager scattered and fled in terror at the tragedy suddenly enacted in their midst the six cowardly husbands deserting their new made wife and leaving her to follow as they ran away which she did at her utmost speed frank freed muriel from the stiffened grasp of the dead man and helped her to her feet then the three hurried from the fatal spot so lately filled by a cheerful crowd of merry makers and now tenanted only by the corpse that lay with sightless eyes staring up at the blue sky they made for the shelter of jungle clad hills that rose a couple of miles away from now onwards for two or three weeks the fugitives led the lives of hunted rats they traveled generally only by night avoiding villages and farms and keeping away from the road as much as possible they were in the southern zone of butan lying nearest the indian frontier a region of precipitous hills 10 or 12 000 feet high their sides clothed with dense vegetation of deep fever laden valleys of awe inspiring gorges a river's liable to sudden floods and rising in a few hours 30 or 40 feet tashi in various disguises occasionally visited villages in search of food and information while the lovers awaited his return in some hidden spot frank holding the anxious girl in his arms and trying to calm her fears in one excursion the ex-lama got the first definitive news of the pursuit he learned that the amban had returned unexpectedly to tuna the plot in his favor in pekin having failed he was not satisfied by the tales told by the monks of the lamissary to account for muriel's mysterious disappearance which was that she had been carried off by the devils he insisted on a search being made for her along the road to the indian border and sent his own chinese guards to direct the pursuit the companion of the pockmark man had got back to tuna and told of their recognition of her young she hung furious at the death of his officer but overjoyed at the discovery of the girl set out at once with his personal followers and a body of the pen ops soldiers to take up the chase the fugitives hotly pursued had several hair breath escapes once they almost blundered into a bill back of their enemies at night they succeeded at last in reaching the great forest in which war grave and the ex-lama had parted from the elephants the forest which ran along the foot and closed the northern slopes of the second last range of mountains between them and the frontier but alas there was no trace of bad shahs heard yet this was not surprising for they found themselves in a part unknown to them through this vast jungle they traveled by day until one evening they reached a deep gorge that pierced the range and seemed to promise a passage through the mountains they camped for the night by its mouth intending to enter it at sunrise dawn found them breaking their fast on a scanty meal of dried mutton and bananas suddenly tashi stopped eating and held up a warning hand his companions drew their pistols frank having given his second weapon to muriel presently they heard the faint sounds of an animal's approach on their track just as they had risen silently to their feet three gigantic dogs appeared sending their trail they were tibetan mass thieves such as are to be chained in the courtyards of lemissaries at sight of them the huge brute stopped crouched for an instant showing their fangs in a fierce snarl and then rushed at them without hesitation the three fired one of the dogs dropped dead but the others the wounded came on one bounded at muriel frank threw himself in front of her firing rapidly at it several bullets struck it but the savage brute spraying at his throat he grappled with it striving by main strength to hold it off muriel rushed to his aid and putting her pistol to the masti's head shot it dead tashi meantime had killed the third knowing that their pursuers must be close behind the dogs they fled into the gorge on either hand stupendous cliffs towered up two thousand feet above them scarcely a hundred yards apart seeming to meet overhead and shut off the sky here and there the giant walls are split from top to bottom in slits opening off the main passage as the fugitives ran on the gorge narrowed until it was scarcely 50 yards wide and they began to fear that it might prove only a cul-de-sac in which they would be hopelessly trapped they heard cries behind them strangely echoed by the rocky walls breathless panting their tired limbs giving way under them they staggered blindly on the pass turned sharply to the right as they approached the bend they became aware of a dull rumbling and the ground which suddenly began to slope steeply down shook violently under their feet wondering what new danger what fresh horror awaited them they stumbled on turned the corner and stopped short in dismayed despair from side to side the gorge was filled with a tumultuous racing flood of foam flecked water a rushing river that poured out of a natural tunnel in this deeply sloping rocky bottom of the pass as from a sluice its surge against the precipitous cliffs leaping up against the walls that hemmed it in sweeping in mad onset of white topped waves and eddying whirlpools flinging spray high in air the stoutest swimmer would be tossed about hopelessly in it rolled over and over choked suffocated sucked under the life beaten out of him for one wild moment frank thought of seizing mariole in his arms and springing into the raging flood but the sheer hopelessness of escape that way checked him it was certain death better to turn and face their pursuers there was more chance of life in battling with a score or two of butane's swordsmen than with the tumbling tossing waters so pistol in hand the three retraced their steps looking everywhere for a suitable spot to make a stand but on either hand the cliffs rose sheer their faces seemed here and there with cracks but with never a crevice big enough to shelter them they passed the bend and a few hundred yards beyond it some large rocks fallen from the cliff on one side lay close against its base frank resolved to take their stand here it was the only cover visible they fitted the holster stocks to their pistols converting them into carbines which could be fired from the shoulder enabling them to aim more accurately at a longer range then while tashi crept cautiously along the pass to scout the subaltern and the girl examined the position for defense thus occupied they were startled by shots ringing out echoing down the vast canyon taking cover they saw their companion running back followed by a body of men a few mounted the majority on foot some had firearms others bows the rest swords war grave and muriel opened on the pursuers with their automatic weapons and checked them tashi was about a hundred yards from shelter when a shot struck him he stumbled and fell while a howl of delight rose from his foes as he tried to struggle up bullets kicked up the dust round him and several arrows dropped near muriel lose off as many cartridges as you can to cover me said war grave laying his pistol beside her before the girl realized his meaning he had sprung out from the rocks and was running towards tashi for a moment the pursuers were puzzled by his action and then fired the rifles and match locks and shot arrows at him but unscathed he reached the wounded man who had been so faithful a comrade to him raising him on his back he staggered towards the rocks while muriel pumped lead at the enemy and succeeded in keeping down their fire somewhat as war grave laid the x-lamma on the ground in shelter tashi seized his hand and touched it with his lips and forehead in silent gratitude frank hurriedly examined and bandaged the wound made by a large caliber bullet which had passed through the leg below the knee lacerating the muscles but not injuring the bone then he took up his post again while tashi dragged himself up behind a rock and opened fire on their foes these were for the most part boot knees but there were several chinese among them look look frank there's the amban cried muriel excitedly pointing to a man who rode into sight along the pass on a white mule she fired at him the bullet missed him but apparently went unpleasantly close for you she hung gallop back into shelter behind a projecting buttress of the cliffs the attackers numbered 60 or 80 they were apparently staggered by the rapid fire poured into them which killed or wounded several of them some tried to find shelter by huddling against the side of the pass and others flung themselves on the ground behind boulders but the leaders urged them on there could be little doubt as to the issue of the fight the bullets from the china men's rifles and the boot knees match locks spattered the rocks or the face of the cliff but the archers began to shoot almost vertically into the air from their strong bamboo bows and several iron tipped four feathered arrows dropped behind the cover one missing more grave by a hands breath fearing for muriel he tried to shield her with his body what's the use dearest she said if you are killed i don't want to live indeed we must both die now i shall not be taken alive kiss me and tell me what's more that you love me he held her to his heart in a passionate embrace and kissed her fondly they are coming now sahib said tashi and i have only a few cartridges left the lovers paid no heed goodbye my dear dear love whispered muriel i'm happier dying with you than living without you frank kister solemnly now for the last time then they turned to face the enemy the swordsmen were massing for a charge crouching low they held their shields before them and waved their long bladed daz above their head uttering fierce yells suddenly the amban and other mounted men who had been sheltering out of sight dashed into view and rode madly into the rear ranks knocking down and trampling on anyone in their way the men on foot looked behind and broke into a run coming on in a disordered mob but it was not a charge it was more like a panic for with wild cries of frantic terror they fled past the defenders who fearing a trick fired their last cartridges into them dropping several some of whom tried to rise and drag themselves on in dread of something terrible behind then into sight came a vast herd of wild elephants filling the gorge from cliff to cliff and moving at a slow trot a huge bull led them lines of other tuskers behind them crowds of females and calves bringing up the rear the onset of the mass of great monsters was terrifying it was appalling irresistible muriel cried out it's bad show frank it's bad show look at the leader don't you see tashi stared at the oncoming herd then he quietly unfixed his pistol and put it away in the holster we are saved sahib he said with the calm fatalism of the east the god of the elephants has sent them and he limped out from behind the rocks the two europeans followed him their foes had disappeared all but the dead and wounded bad show for it was he swerved out of his course and came to them while the herd went on opening out to pass him as he sank to his knees before the humans tashi despite his wound climbed up to his neck while war grave mounted behind him and muriel took her seat on the broad back clanging to her lover then the tusker rose and moved swiftly after the herd as he rounded the bend a strange sight met the eyes of those he carried their enemies were huddled together in terror near the brink of the tunnel from which the surging water rushed out some endeavored to pluck up courage to throw themselves into the river while the majority had turned to face the elephants but they were paralyzed with fright a few tried to discharge their firearms or loose their arrows with trembling hands as the elephants quickening their pace rushed on in an irresistible mass some of the men crazed with fright ran to meet them others flung themselves to the ground where they were but over both the great monsters passed treading them to pulp under their ponderous feet the animals of the mounted men as terrified as their riders swung about and sprang headlong into the river many of the men on foot did the same the heads of animals and men appeared and disappeared bobbing up and down then their bodies were rolled over and over tossed up on the waves and sucked under one by one they disappeared a few of the panic-stricken mob had tried to climb the precipitous cliffs in vain one however getting his hands into a narrow slanting crack dragged himself up a few feet it was the amban frank drew his pistol but muriel clung to his arm and cried oh spare the poor wretch tashi had no struples but his magazine was empty and he searched in vain for a cartridge but yang she hung's time had come bad shot shrunk shot out and caught the climbers ankle the china man was plucked from the fleece of the cliff and hurled to the ground a frenzied shriek burst from him as the tusk was driven into the shuttering body which in an instant was trodden to a bloody pulp muriel hid her face against her lover but the agony of the wretches dying yell rang in her ears not one of their enemies was left alive then the elephants one by one slid and slithered down into the rushing water which was very little below the brink the mother supported the youngest calves with their trunks the less immature climbing on to their backs tashi checked bad shot as he was about to follow the herd into the river and lame as he was slid down to the ground he searched the crushed and mangled corpses of his fellow countrymen and collected their girdles until he had enough to knot and plate into two ropes one to go about bad shots neck the other around the great body more girdles suffice to join these together and supply cords by which the men and the woman on his back could tie themselves on to the ropes and to each other securely when this was done bad shot slid into the river as elephants do he sank in the water until only the upper part of his head and the tip of his uprights trunk were above it without the precaution that tashi had taken his riders would have been instantly swept away only elephants could have battled successfully with that raging torrent the upflung spray and leaping waves hid the herd from the fugitives as they clung desperately to the ropes and to each other 18 months had gone by in the garden of the political agents bungalow in rangah dwarf colonel dermit completely restored to health and his wife stood with his assistant major hunt and mcdonald they were watching mrs wargrave who with brian and eileen clinging to her was holding out her two months old baby to a great elephant with a single task the animal raised his trunk as though in salute then lowering it gently touched with its sensitive tip the laughing infant whose tiny hand instinctively clutched it and held it fast with a smile muriel turned her head and looked at her husband badshaw has accepted him your son is free of the herd said colonel dermit end of chapter 15 recording by linda mary nielson vancouver bc end of the jungle girl by gordon castor lee