Again they worked on in silence upon the boma which was now nearly
completed, the girl helping the man to the best of her small
ability. Tarzan could not but note with grudging approval the
spirit of helpfulness she manifested in the oft-times painful labor
of gathering and arranging the thorn bushes which constituted the
temporary protection against roaming carnivores. Her hands and arms
gave bloody token of the sharpness of the numerous points that had
lacerated her soft flesh, and even though she were an enemy Tarzan
could not but feel compunction that he had permitted her to do this
work, and at last he bade her stop.
"Why?" she asked. "It is no more painful to me than it must be to
you, and, as it is solely for my protection that you are building
this boma, there is no reason why I should not do my share."
"You are a woman," replied Tarzan. "This is not a woman's work. If
you wish to do something, take those gourds I brought this morning
and fill them with water at the river. You may need it while I am
away."
"While you are away--" she said. "You are going away?"
"When the boma is built I am going out after meat," he replied.
"Tomorrow I will go again and take you and show you how you may
make your own kills after I am gone."
Without a word she took the gourds and walked toward the river.
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