Bertha Kircher heard her screaming down the village street at Usanga's
heels and trembled at the thought of what lay in store for her at
the hands of these two, for she knew that tomorrow at the latest
Naratu would take out upon her the full measure of her jealous
hatred after she had spent her first wrath upon Usanga.
The two had departed but a few minutes when the warrior guard
returned. He looked into the hut and then entered. "No one will
stop me now, white woman," he growled as he stepped quickly across
the hut toward her.
Tarzan of the Apes, feasting well upon a juicy haunch from Bara,
the deer, was vaguely conscious of a troubled mind. He should
have been at peace with himself and all the world, for was he not
in his native element surrounded by game in plenty and rapidly
filling his belly with the flesh he loved best? But Tarzan of
the Apes was haunted by the picture of a slight, young girl being
shoved and struck by brutal Negresses, and in imagination could
see her now camped in this savage country a prisoner among degraded
blacks.
Why was it so difficult to remember that she was only a hated German
and a spy? Why would the fact that she was a woman and white always
obtrude itself upon his consciousness? He hated her as he hated
all her kind, and the fate that was sure to be hers was no more
terrible than she in common with all her people deserved.
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