ALONE

For several moments Rhonda Terry lay quietly where she had been hurled

by her terrified horse. The lion stood with his forefeet on the carcass

of his kill growling angrily after the fleeing animal that was carrying

Naomi Madison back toward the forest.

As Rhonda Terry gained consciousness the first thing that she saw as

she opened her eyes was the figure of the lion standing with its back

toward her, and instantly she recalled all that had transpired. She

tried to find Naomi without moving her head, for she did not wish to

attract the attention of the lion; but she could see nothing of the

Madison.

The lion sniffed at his kill; then he turned and looked about. His

eyes fell on the girl, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Rhonda

froze in terror. She wanted to close her eyes to shut out the hideous

snarling face, but she feared that even this slight movement would

bring the beast upon her. She recalled having heard that if animals

thought a person dead they would not molest the body. It also occurred

to her that this might not hold true in respect to meat eaters.

So terrified was she that it was with the utmost difficulty that she

curbed an urge to leap to her feet and run, although she knew that such

an act would prove instantly fatal. The great cat could have overtaken

her with a single bound.

The lion wheeled slowly about and approached her, and all the while

that low growl rumbled in his throat. He came close and sniffed at her

body. She felt his hot breath against her face, and its odor sickened

her.

The beast seemed nervous and uncertain. Suddenly he lowered his face

close to hers and growled ferociously, his eyes blazed into hers. She

thought that the end had come. The brute raised a paw and seized her

shoulder. He turned her over on her face. She heard him sniffing and

growling above her. For what seemed an eternity to the frightened girl

he stood there; then she realized that he had walked away.

From her one unobscured eye she watched him after a brief instant that

she had become very dizzy and almost swooned. He returned to the body

of the horse and worried it for a moment; then he seized it and dragged

it toward the bushes from which he had leaped to the attack.

The girl marvelled at the mighty strength of the beast, as it dragged

the carcass without seeming effort and disappeared in the thicket. Now

she commenced to wonder if she had been miraculously spared or if the

lion, having hidden the body of the horse, would return for her.

She raised her head a little and looked around. About twenty feet away

grew a small tree. She lay between it and the thicket where she could

hear the lion growling.

Cautiously she commenced to drag her body toward the tree, glancing

constantly behind in the direction of the thicket. Inch by inch, foot

by foot she made her slow way. Five feet, ten, fifteen! She glanced

back and saw the lion's head and forequarters emerge from the brush.

No longer was there place for stealth. Leaping to her feet she raced

for the tree. Behind, she heard the angry roar of the lion as it

charged.

She sprang for a low branch and scrambled upward. Terror gave her an

agility and a strength far beyond her normal powers. As she climbed

frantically upward among the branches she felt the tree tremble to

the impact of the lion's body as it hurtled against the bole, and the

raking talons of one great paw swept just beneath her foot.

Rhonda Terry did not stop climbing until she had reached a point beyond

which she dared not go; then, clinging to the now slender stem, she

looked down.

The lion stood glaring up at her. For a few minutes he paced about the

tree; and then, with an angry growl, he strode majestically back to his

thicket.

It was not until then that the girl descended to a more secure and

comfortable perch, where she sat trembling for a long time as she

sought to compose herself.

She had escaped the lion, at least temporarily; but what lay in the

future for her? Alone, unarmed, lost in a savage wilderness, upon what

thin thread could she hang even the slightest vestige of a hope!

She wondered what had become of Naomi. She almost wished that they had

never attempted to escape from the Arabs. If Tom Orman and Bill West

and the others were looking for them they might have had a chance to

find them had they remained the captives of old Sheykh Ab el-Ghrennem,

but now how could any one ever find them?

From her tree sanctuary she could see quite a distance in all

directions. A tree dotted plain extended northwest toward a range of

mountains. Close to the northeast of her rose the volcanic, cone-shaped

hill that she had been pointing out to Naomi when the lion charged.

All these landmarks, following so closely the description on the map,

intrigued her curiosity and started her to wondering and dreaming about

the valley of diamonds. Suddenly she recalled something that Atewy had

told her--that the falls at the foot of the valley of diamonds must be

the Omwamwi Falls toward which the safari had been moving.

If that were true she would stand a better chance of rejoining the

company were she to make her way to the falls and await them there than

to return to the forest where she was certain to become lost.

She found it a little amusing that she should suddenly be pinning her

faith to a property map, but her situation was such that she must grasp

at any straw.

The mountains did not seem very far away, but she knew that distances

were usually deceiving. She thought that she might reach them in a day,

and believed that she might hold out without food or water until she

reached the river that she prayed might be there.

Every minute was precious now, but she could not start while the lion

lay up in the nearby thicket. She could hear him growling as he tore at

the carcass of the horse.

An hour passed, and then she saw the lion emerge from his lair. He did

not even glance toward her, but moved off in a southerly direction

toward the river that she and Naomi had crossed a few hours before.

The girl watched the beast until it disappeared in the brush that grew

near the river; then she slipped from the tree and started toward the

northwest and the mountains.

The day was still young, the terrain not too difficult, and Rhonda felt

comparatively fresh and strong despite her night ride and the harrowing

experiences of the last few hours--a combination of circumstances that

buoyed her with hope.

The plain was dotted with trees, and the girl directed her steps so

that she might at all times be as near as possible to one of these.

Sometimes this required a zigzag course that lengthened the distance,

but after her experience with the lion she did not dare be far from

sanctuary at any time.

She turned often to look back in the direction she had come, lest the

lion follow and surprise her. As the hours passed the sun shone down

hotter and hotter. Rhonda commenced to suffer from hunger and thirst;

her steps were dragging; her feet seemed weighted with lead. More

and more often she stopped beneath the shade of a tree to rest. The

mountains seemed as far away as ever. Doubts assailed her.

A shadow moved across the ground before her. She looked up. Circling

above was a vulture. She shuddered. "I wonder if he only hopes," she

said aloud, "or if he knows."

But she kept doggedly on. She would not give up--not until she dropped

in her tracks. She wondered how long it would be before that happened.

Once as she was approaching a large black rock that lay across her

path it moved and stood up, and she saw that it was a rhinoceros. The

beast ran around foolishly for a moment, its nose in the air; then it

charged. Rhonda clambered into a tree, and the great beast tore by

like a steam locomotive gone must.

As it raced off with its silly little tail in air the girl smiled. She

realized that she had forgotten her exhaustion under the stress of

emergency, as bed-ridden cripples sometimes forget their affliction

when the house catches fire.

The adventure renewed her belief in her ability to reach the river,

and she moved on again in a more hopeful frame of mind. But as hot and

dusty hour followed hot and dusty hour and the pangs of thirst assailed

her with increasing violence, her courage faltered again in the face of

the weariness that seemed to penetrate to the very marrow of her bones.

For a long time she had been walking in a depression of the rolling

plain, her view circumscribed by the higher ground around her. The day

was drawing to a close. Her lengthening shadow fell away behind her.

The low sun was in her eyes.

She wanted to sit down and rest, but she was afraid that she would

never get up again. More than that, she wanted to see what lay beyond

the next rise in the ground. It is always the next summit that lures

the traveller on even though experience may have taught him that he

need expect nothing more than another rise of ground farther on.

The climb ahead of her was steeper than she had anticipated, and it

required all her strength and courage to reach the top of what she

guessed might have been an ancient river bank or, perhaps, a lateral

moraine; but the view that was revealed rewarded her for the great

effort.

Below her was a fringe of wood through which she could see a broad

river, and to her right the mountains seemed very close now.

Forgetful of lurking beast or savage men, the thirst tortured girl

hurried down toward the tempting water of the river. As she neared the

bank she saw a dozen great forms floating on the surface of the water.

A huge head was raised with wide distended jaws revealing a cavernous

maw, but Rhonda did not pause. She rushed to the bank of the river and

threw herself face down and drank while the hippopotamuses, snorting

and grunting, viewed her with disapproval.

That night she slept in a tree, dozing fitfully and awakening to every

sudden jungle noise. From the plain came the roar of the hunting lions.

Below her a great herd of hippopotamuses came out of the river to feed

on land, their grunting and snorting dispelling all thoughts of sleep.

In the distance she heard the yelp of the jackal and the weird cry of

the hyena, and there were other strange and terrifying noises that she

could not classify. It was not a pleasant night.

Morning found her weak from loss of sleep, fatigue, and hunger. She

knew that she must get food, but she did not know how to get it. She

thought that perhaps the safari had reached the falls by now, and she

determined to go up river in search of the falls in the hope that she

might find her people--a vague hope in the realization of which she had

little faith.

She discovered a fairly good game trail paralleling the river, and this

she followed up stream. As she stumbled on she became conscious of

an insistent, muffled roaring in the distance. It grew louder as she

advanced, and she guessed that she was approaching the falls.

Toward noon she reached them--an imposing sight much of the grandeur of

which was lost on her fatigue benumbed sensibilities. The great river

poured over the rim of a mighty escarpment that towered far above her.

A smother of white water and spume filled the gorge at the foot of the

falls. The thunderous roar of the falling water was deafening.

Slowly the grandeur and the solitude of the scene gripped her. She

felt as might one who stood alone, the sole inhabitant of a world, and

looked upon an eternal scene that no human eye had ever scanned before.

But she was not alone. Far up, near the top of the escarpment, on

a narrow ledge a shaggy creature looked down upon her from beneath

beetling brows. It nudged another like it and pointed.

For a while the two watched the girl; then they started down the

escarpment. Like flies they clung to the dizzy cliff, and when the

ledge ended they swung to sturdy trees that clung to the rocky face of

the great wall.

Down, down they came, two great first-men, shaggy, powerful, menacing.

They dropped quickly, and always they sought to hide their approach

from the eyes of the girl.

The great falls, the noise, the boiling river left Rhonda Terry stunned

and helpless. There was no sign of her people, and if they were camped

on the opposite side of the river she felt that they might as well be

in another world, so impassable seemed the barrier that confronted her.

She felt very small and alone and tired. With a sigh she sat down on

a rounded boulder and leaned against another piled behind it. All her

remaining strength seemed to have gone from her. She closed her eyes

wearily, and two tears rolled down her cheeks. Perhaps she dozed, but

she was startled into wakefulness by a voice speaking near her. At

first she thought she was dreaming and did not open her eyes.

"She is alone," the voice said. "We will take her to God--he will be

pleased."

It was an English voice, or at least the accent was English; but the

tones were gruff and deep and guttural. The strange words convinced her

she was dreaming. She opened her eyes, and shrank back with a little

scream of terror. Standing close to her were two gorillas, or such she

thought them to be until one of them opened its mouth and spoke.

"Come with us," it said; "we are going to take you to God;" then it

reached out a mighty, hairy hand and seized her.