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Her first impulse was to follow. With the rifle she might be of assistance to him, and, further, she could not bear the terrible thought of being left alone at the mercy of the fearful jungle without a single friend to aid her. She started to crawl from her shelter with the intention of running after Anderssen as fast as she could.
The Swede saw the white man leap to his feet beside the corpse of his foe, and placing one foot upon the broken neck lift his voice in the hideous challenge of the victorious bull-ape. Anderssen shuddered. Then Tarzan turned toward him. His face was cold and cruel, and in the grey eyes the Swede read murder. "Where is my wife?" growled the ape-man. "Where is the child?"
However, when he was leaving her cabin a little later with the empty dishes he whispered very low, "Leave on your clothes an' roll up your blankets. Ay come back after you purty soon." He would have slipped from the room at once, but Jane laid her hand upon his sleeve. "My baby?" she asked. "I cannot go without him." "You do wot Ay tal you," said Anderssen, scowling.
Quickly he had dropped the rope then and seen her float away beyond his reach, but a moment later he had been racing up-stream toward a little tributary in the mouth of which was hidden the canoe in which he and his party had come thus far upon their journey in pursuit of the girl and Anderssen. What had become of her?
Like a bronze image cold, hard, and relentless he stood over the helpless man, waiting to wring such information from him as he needed, and then to kill. Presently the coughing and haemorrhage ceased, and again the wounded man tried to speak. Tarzan knelt near the faintly moving lips. "The wife and child!" he repeated. "Where are they?" Anderssen pointed up the trail.
Quick hands snatched the bundle from the cook, and hungry mother arms folded the sleeping infant to her breast, while hot tears of joy ran down her cheeks and her whole frame shook with the emotion of the moment. "Come!" said Anderssen. "We got no time to vaste." He snatched up her bundle of blankets, and outside the cabin door his own as well.
"Yes, bwana," replied Tambudza, "there was a woman with them and a little child a little white piccaninny. It died here in our village of the fever and they buried it!" A Black Scoundrel When Jane Clayton regained consciousness she saw Anderssen standing over her, holding the baby in his arms. As her eyes rested upon them an expression of misery and horror overspread her countenance.
Anderssen rowed on as though quite sure of his ground, and when after half an hour the moon broke through the clouds there was revealed upon their left the mouth of a tributary running into the Ugambi. Up this narrow channel the Swede turned the prow of the small boat. Jane Clayton wondered if the man knew where he was bound.
Morphy's adventures abroad, will be glad to find here a particular account of his engagements with Harrwitz, Anderssen, and especially of the match which he did not play with Mr. Stanton, and why he did not play it. How much better would Mr.
It was where Anderssen had hidden her where he had given up his life in the vain effort to save her from Rokoff. At sight of it she recalled the rifle and ammunition that the man had thrust upon her at the last moment. Until now she had forgotten them entirely.
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