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Updated: May 10, 2025
Her mother said, "It is difficult to follow you; but though my thoughts go slowly, I hold fast what I hear." And the power of beauty held him fast; it had subdued him entranced and enslaved him. Kala's beauty certainly was extraordinary; it was enthroned in every feature of her face, in her whole figure, even to the points of her fingers.
With a cry of rage and pain the she-ape turned upon her tormentor. In an instant the trees were crashing beneath the weight of her hurrying fellows, swinging rapidly toward the scene of trouble in answer to Kala's scream. As she charged, Kulonga unslung his bow and fitted an arrow with almost unthinkable quickness.
Then he selected from his portfolio a sketch done with a black-lead pencil; but mamma, who delighted in highly-coloured pictures, looked at the pale sketch, and exclaimed in amazement, "You saw it gush out white?" Mamma got into Herr Alfred's black books for a few minutes, and he felt profound contempt for her; but the light from Kala's eyes soon dispelled his gloom.
Tublat, Kala's husband, was sorely vexed, and but for the female's careful watching would have put the child out of the way. "He will never be a great ape," he argued. "Always will you have to carry him and protect him. What good will he be to the tribe? None; only a burden.
At night they slept where darkness overtook them, lying upon the ground, and sometimes covering their heads, and more seldom their bodies, with the great leaves of the elephant's ear. Two or three might lie cuddled in each other's arms for additional warmth if the night were chill, and thus Tarzan had slept in Kala's arms nightly for all these years.
But I manage to hobble after you with my thoughts, though they whirl round and round, but I contrive to hold them fast." And Kala's beauty held Alfred fast, filled his soul, and seized and mastered him. Beauty gleamed forth from Kala's every feature gleamed from her eyes, lurked in the corners of her mouth, and in every movement of her fingers.
Those of the apes who attempted to examine Kala's strange baby were repulsed with bared fangs and low menacing growls, accompanied by words of warning from Kala. When they assured her that they meant the child no harm she permitted them to come close, but would not allow them to touch her charge.
Perhaps Kala's sturdy grandchildren destroyed it as a useless toy; perhaps it perished by fire, or flood, or evil accident. No memory of it lingers in the streets of Nuremberg; and Gabriel, lifted beyond the everlasting hills, knoweth the vanity of all human wishes. The Italian Guest's Selection. "He is a Tuscan born, of an old noble race in that part of Italy." Hawthorne.
"It is a masterpiece," he said, gravely, "which I should be proud to call my own. I congratulate you on the possession of so great a treasure." "It is not mine," returned the artisan, "but my daughter's. Gabriel wrought it for her wedding-gift." The wood-carver's keen blue eyes scanned Kala's pretty, stolid face, and then wandered to Sigmund's broad shoulders and mighty bulk.
But Lisbeth went stolidly about the daily routine of her life; Kala's smiles were as bright and as frequent as ever; and Sigmund troubled himself not at all with matters beyond his ken. Winter had set in early, and already November had brought in its train snow and biting winds, and the promise of severe cold to come.
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