It required no Sherlockian instinct to deduce that Jana was angry,
and Jason was not so dense as to be unaware of the cause of her
displeasure, which he attributed to natural feminine vexation induced
by the knowledge that she had been mistaken in assuming that her
charms had effected the conquest of his heart. He judged Jana by his
own imagined knowledge of feminine psychology. He knew that she was
beautiful and he knew that she knew it, too. She had told him of the
many men of Zoram who had wanted to take her as their mate, and he had
saved her from one suitor, who had pursued her across the terrible
Mountains of the Thipdars, putting his life constantly in jeopardy
to win her. He felt that it was only natural, therefore, that Jana
should place a high valuation upon her charms and believe that any
man might fall a victim to their spell, but he saw no reason why she
should be angry because she had not succeeded in enthralling him. They
had been very happy together. He could not recall when ever before he
had been for so long a time in the company of any girl, or so enjoyed
the companionship of one of her sex. He was sorry that anything had
occurred to mar the even tenor of their friendship and he quickly
decided that the manly thing to do was to ignore her tantrum and go on
with her as he had before, until she came to her senses. Nor was there
anything else that he might do for he certainly could not permit Jana
to continue her journey to Zoram without protection. Of course it was
not very nice of her to have called him a jalok, which he knew to be a
Pellucidarian epithet of high insult, but he would overlook that for
the present and eventually she would relent and ask his forgiveness.
And so he followed her, but he had taken scarcely a dozen steps when
she wheeled upon him like a young tiger, whipping her stone knife from
its sheath. "I told you to go your way," she cried. "I do not want to
see you again. If you follow me I shall kill you."
"I cannot let you go on alone, Jana," he said quietly.
"The Red Flower of Zoram wants no protection from such as you," she
replied haughtily.
"We have been such good friends, Jana," he pleaded. "Let us go on
together as we have in the past. I cannot help it if--" He hesitated
and stopped.
"I do not care that you do not love me," she said. "I hate you. I hate
you because your eyes lie. Sometimes lips lie and we are not hurt
because we have learned to expect that from lips, but when eyes lie
then the heart lies and the whole man is false. I cannot trust you. I
do not want your friendship. I want nothing more of you. Go away."
"You do not understand, Jana," he insisted.
"I understand that if you try to follow me I will kill you," she said.
"Then you will have to kill me," he replied, "for I shall follow you. I
cannot let you go on alone, no matter whether you hate me or not," and
as he ceased speaking he advanced toward her.
Jana stood facing him, her little feet firmly planted, her crude stone
dagger grasped in her right hand, her eyes flashing angrily.
His hands at his sides, Jason Gridley walked slowly up to her as though
offering his breast as a target for her weapon. The stone blade flashed
upward. It poised a moment above her shoulder and then The Red Flower
of Zoram turned and fled along the rim of the rift.
She ran very swiftly and was soon far ahead of Jason, who was weighted
down by clothes, heavy weapons and ammunition. He called after her
once or twice, begging her to stop, but she did not heed him and he
continued doggedly along her trail, making the best time that he could.
He felt hurt and angry, but after all the emotion which dominated him
was one of regret that their sweet friendship had been thus wantonly
blasted.
Slowly the realization was borne in upon him that he had been very
happy with Jana and that she had occupied his thoughts almost to the
exclusion of every other consideration of the past or future. Even the
memory of his lost comrades had been relegated to the hazy oblivion of
temporary forgetfulness in the presence of the responsibility which he
had assumed for the safe conduct of the girl to her home land.
"Why, she has made a regular monkey out of me," he mused. "Odysseus
never met a more potent Circe. Nor one half so lovely," he added, as he
regretfully recalled the charms of the little barbarian.
And what a barbarian she had proven herself--whipping out her stone
knife and threatening to kill him. But he could not help but smile when
he realized how in the final extremity she had proven herself so wholly
feminine. With a sigh he shook his head and plodded on after The Red
Flower of Zoram.
Occasionally Jason caught a glimpse of Jana as she crossed a ridge
ahead of him and though she did not seem to be travelling as fast
as at first, yet he could not gain upon her. His mind was constantly
harassed by the fear that she might be attacked by some savage beast
and destroyed before he could come to her rescue with his rifle. He
knew that sooner or later she would have to stop and rest and then he
was hopeful of overtaking her, when he might persuade her to forget her
anger and resume their former friendly comradeship.
But it seemed that The Red Flower of Zoram had no intention of resting,
though the American had long since reached a state of fatigue that
momentarily threatened to force him to relinquish the pursuit until
outraged nature could recuperate. Yet he plodded on doggedly across
the rough ground, while the weight of his arms and ammunition seemed
to increase until his rifle assumed the ponderous proportions of a
field gun. Determined not to give up, he staggered down one hill and
struggled up the next, his legs seeming to move mechanically as though
they were some detached engine of torture over which he had no control
and which were bearing him relentlessly onward, while every fiber of
his being cried out for rest.
Added to the physical torture of fatigue, were hunger and thirst, and
knowing that only thus might time be measured, he was confident that
he had covered a great distance since they had last rested and then he
topped the summit of a low rise and saw Jana directly ahead of him.
She was standing on the edge of the rift where it opened into a mighty
gorge that descended from the mountains and it was evident that she was
undecided what course to pursue. The course which she wished to pursue
was blocked by the rift and gorge. To her left the way led back down
into the valley in a direction opposite to that in which lay Zoram,
while to retrace her steps would entail another encounter with Jason.
She was looking over the edge of the precipice, evidently searching for
some avenue of descent when she became aware of Jason's approach.