Near them was a group of native huts, clustered close to the foot of
the wall, and so they moved out straight across the clearing to the
edge of the jungle and then, turning, paralleled the jungle until they
had passed the city.
"When we were brought into Lodidhapura I saw an avenue leading into the
jungle somewhere in this direction," said King.
"Yes," replied Fou-tan, "but that does not lead to Pnom Dhek."
"Which is the reason that I wish to find it," said King. "The pursuit
will be directed straight in the direction of Pnom Dhek, you may be
assured. Men upon elephants and upon horses will travel after us much
more rapidly than we can travel and we shall be overtaken if we take
the road toward Pnom Dhek. We must go in some other direction and hide
in the jungle for days, perhaps, before we may dare to approach Pnom
Dhek."
"I do not care," she said, "and I shall not be afraid if you are with
me, Gordon King."
It was not long before they found the road that he sought. In the open
starlit night the transition to the jungle was depressing and, too,
as they both realised, it was highly dangerous. All about them were
the noises of the gloomy nocturnal forest: the mysterious rustling of
underbrush as some beast passed on padded feet, a coughing growl in the
distance, a snarl and a scream, followed by a long silence that was
more terrifying than the noise.
A few months ago King would have considered their position far more
precarious than he did this night, but now long familiarity with
the jungle had so inured him to its dangers that he had unwittingly
acquired that tendency to fatalism that is a noticeable characteristic
of primitive people who live constantly beneath the menace of
beasts of prey. He was, however, no less aware of the dangers that
confronted them, but held them the lesser of two evils. To remain in
the neighbourhood of Lodidhapura would most certainly result in their
early capture and subject them to a fate more merciless and more cruel
than any which might waylay them along the dark aisles of the forest.
Propinquity had considerably altered his estimation of the great cats;
whereas formerly he had thought of them as the fearless exterminators
of mankind; he had since learned that not all of them are man-killers
and that more often did they avoid man than pursue him. The chances,
then, that they might come through the night without attack were
greatly in their favour; but should they meet a tiger or a leopard or a
panther which, because of hunger, old age, or viciousness, should elect
to attack them, their doom might well be sealed; and whether they were
moving away from Lodidhapura upon the ground or hiding in a tree, they
would be almost equally at the mercy of one or another of these fierce
carnivores.
The avenue that they were following, which entered the jungle from
Lodidhapura, ran broad and clear for a considerable distance into the
forest, dwindling at last to little more than an ordinary game-trail.
To elude their pursuers, they must leave it; but that they might not
attempt until daylight, since to strike out blindly into the trackless
jungle, buried in the impenetrable gloom of night, must almost
assuredly have spelled disaster.
"Even if they find Lodivarman before morning," he said, "I doubt that
they will commence their search for us before daylight."
"They will be ordered out in pursuit the instant that Lodivarman can
issue a command," replied Fou-tan; "but there is little likelihood
that anyone will dare to risk his anger by approaching the apartment
in which he lies until his long silence has aroused suspicion. If your
bonds hold and he is unable to remove the gag from his mouth, I doubt
very much that he will be discovered before noon. His people fear his
anger, which is quick and merciless, and there is only one man in all
Lodidhapura who would risk incurring it by entering that apartment
before Lodivarman summoned him."
"And who is that?" asked King.
"Vay Thon, the high priest of Siva," replied the girl.
"If I am missed and the word reaches the ears of Vay Thon," said King,
"it is likely that his suspicion may be aroused."
"Why?" asked Fou-tan.
"Because I talked with him this afternoon, and I could see that he
guessed what was in my heart. It was he who told me that Lodivarman
would send for you to-night. It was Vay Thon who warned me to attempt
no rash deed."
"He does not love Lodivarman," said the girl, "and it may be that if he
guessed the truth he might be silent, for he has been kind to me; and I
know that he liked you."
For hour after hour the two groped their way along the dark trail,
aided now by the dim light of the moon that the canopy of foliage above
blocked and diffused until that which reached the jungle floor could
not be called light at all, but rather a lesser degree of darkness.
With the passing of the hours King realised that Fou-tan's steps were
commencing to lag. He timed his own then to suit hers and, walking
close beside her, supported her with his arm. She seemed so small and
delicate and unsuited to an ordeal like this that the man marvelled at
her stamina. More of a hot-house plant than a girl of flesh and blood
seemed Fou-tan of Pnom Dhek, and yet she was evincing the courage and
endurance of a man. He recalled that not once during the night had she
voiced any fear of the jungle, not even when great beasts had passed
so close to them that they could almost hear their breathing. If Khmer
slaves were of this stock, to what noble heights of courage must the
masters achieve!
"You are very tired, Fou-tan," he said; "we shall rest presently."
"No," she replied. "Do not stop on my account. If you would not rest
upon your own account, it must be that you do not think it wise to do
so; that I am with you should make no difference. When you feel the
need of rest and believe that it is safe to rest, then I may rest also,
but not until then."
Stealthily the dawn, advance guard of the laggard day, crept slowly
through the jungle, pushing back the impenetrable shadows of the night.
Shadowy trees emerged from the darkness; armies of gaunt grey boles
marched in endless procession slowly by them; the trail that had been
but a blank wall of darkness before projected itself forward to the
next turn; the hideous night lay behind them, and a new hope was born
within their bosoms. It was time now to leave the trail and search for
a hiding-place, and conditions were particularly favourable at this
spot, since the underbrush was comparatively scant.
Turning abruptly to the left, King struck off at right angles to the
trail; and for another hour the two pushed onward into the untracked
mazes of the forest. This last hour was particularly difficult, for
there was no trail and the ground rose rapidly, suggesting to King that
they were approaching mountains. There were numerous outcroppings of
rock; and at length they came to the edge of a gorge, in the bottom of
which ran a stream of pure water.
"The gods have been good to us," exclaimed King.
"I have been praying to them all night," said Fou-tan.
The little stream had cut deeply into its limestone bed; but at last
they found a way down to the water, where the cool and refreshing
liquid gave them renewed strength and hope.
The evidences of erosion in the limestone about them suggested to King
that a little search might reveal a safe and adequate hiding-place.
Fortunately the water in the stream was low, giving them dry footing
along its side as they followed the gorge upward; nor had they gone far
before they discovered a location that was ideal for their purpose.
Here the stream made a sharp bend that was almost a right angle; and
where the waters had rushed for countless ages against the base of a
limestone cliff, they had eaten their way far into it, hollowing out a
sanctuary where the two fugitives would be safe from observation from
above.
Leaving Fou-tan in the little grotto, King crossed the stream and
gathered an armful of dry grasses that grew above the high water-line
upon the opposite side. After several trips he was able to make a
reasonably comfortable bed for each of them.
"Sleep now," he said to Fou-tan; "and when you are rested, I shall
sleep."
The girl would have demurred, wishing him to sleep first; but even
as she voiced her protest, exhaustion overcame her and she sank into
a profound slumber. Seated with his back against the limestone wall
of their retreat, King sought desperately to keep awake; but the
monotonous sound of the running water, which drowned all other sounds,
acted as a soporific, which, combined with outraged Nature's craving
for rest, made the battle he was waging a difficult one. Twice he dozed
and then, disgusted with himself, he arose and paced to and fro the
length of their sanctuary, but the instant that he sat down again he
was gone.
It was mid-afternoon when King awoke with a start. He had been the
victim of a harrowing dream, so real that even as he awoke he grasped
his spear and leaped to his feet, but there was no danger menacing. He
listened intently, but the only sound came from the leaping waters of
the stream.
Fou-tan opened her eyes and looked at him. "What is it?" she asked.
He grimaced in self-disgust. "I slept at my post," he said. "I have
been asleep a long time, and I have just awakened."
"I am glad," she said with a smile. "I hope that you have slept for a
long time."
"I have slept almost as long as you have, Fou-tan," he replied; "but
suppose that they had come while I slept."
"They did not come, however," she reminded him.
"Well, right or wrong, we have both slept now," he said, "and my next
business is to obtain food."
"There is plenty in the forest," she said.
"Yes, I noted it as we came this way in the morning."
"Will it be safe to go out and search for food?" asked the girl.
"We shall have to take the chance," he replied. "We must eat and we
cannot find food at night. We shall have to go together, Fou-tan, as I
cannot risk leaving you alone for a moment."
As King and Fou-tan left their hiding-place and started down the gorge
toward a place where they could clamber out of it into the forest
in search of food, a creature at the summit of the cliff upon the
opposite side of the stream crouched behind a low bush and watched
them. Out of small eyes, deep-set beneath a mass of tangled hair, the
creature watched every movement of the two; and when they had passed,
it followed them stealthily, stalking them as a tiger might have
stalked. But this was no tiger; it was a man--a huge, hulking brute of
a man, standing well over six-feet-six on its great flat feet. Its only
apparel was a G string, made from the skin of a wild animal. It wore no
ornaments, but it carried weapons--a short spear, a bow, and arrows.
The jungle lore that the American had learned under the tutorage of Che
stood him in good stead now, for it permitted him quickly to locate
edible fruit and tubers without waste of time and with a minimum
of effort. Fou-tan, city-bred, had but a hazy and most impractical
knowledge of the flora of the jungle. She knew the tall, straight teak
standing leafless now in the dry season and the India-rubber tree; and
with almost childish delight she recognised the leathery laurel-like
leaves of the tree from whose gum resin gamboge is secured; the tall,
flowering stems of the cardamon she knew too; but the sum total of her
knowledge would not have given sustenance to a canary in the jungle.
It was therefore that King's efficiency in this matter filled her with
awe and admiration. Her dark eyes followed his every move; and when he
had collected all of the food that they could conveniently carry and
they had turned their steps back toward their hiding-place, Fou-tan
was bubbling over with pride and confidence and happiness. Perhaps
it was as well that she did not see the uncouth figure hiding in the
underbrush as they passed.
Back in their retreat they partially satisfied their hunger with such
of the food as did not require cooking. "To-night we can have a fire,"
said King, "and roast some of these tubers. It would not be safe now,
for the smoke might be seen for a considerable distance; but at night
they will not be searching for us, and the light of a small fire will
never escape from this gorge."
After they had eaten, King took his spear and walked down to the stream
where he had seen fish jumping. He was prompted more by a desire to
pass away the time than by any hope of success in this piscatorial
adventure, but so numerous were the fish and so unafraid that he
succeeded in spearing two with the utmost ease while Fou-tan stood at
his elbow applauding him with excited little exclamations and squeals
of delight.
King had never been any less sensitive to the approbation of the
opposite sex than any other normal man, but never, he realised, had
praise sounded more sweetly in his ears than now. There was something
so altogether sincere in Fou-tan's praise that it never even remotely
suggested adulation. He had always found her such an altogether
forthright little person that he could never doubt her sincerity.
"Now we shall have a feast," she exclaimed, as they carried the fishes
back into their grotto. "It is a good thing for me that you are here,
Gordon King, and not another."
"Why, Fou-tan?" he asked.
"Imagine Bharata Rahon or any of the others being faced with the
necessity of finding food for me here in the jungle!" she exclaimed.
"Why, I should either have starved to death or have been poisoned by
their ignorance and stupidity. No, there is no one like Gordon King, as
Fou-tan, his slave, should know."
"Do not call yourself that," he said. "You are not my slave."
"Let us play that I am," she said. "I like it. A slave is great in the
greatness of his master; therefore, it can be no disgrace to be the
slave of Gordon King."
"If I had not found you here in the jungles of Cambodia," he said, "I
could have sworn that you are Irish."
"Irish?" she asked. "What is Irish?"
"The Irish are a people who live upon a little island far, far away.
They have a famous stone there, and when one has kissed this stone he
cannot help thereafter speaking in terms of extravagant praise of all
whom he meets. It is said that all of the Irish have kissed this stone."
"I do not have to kiss a stone to tell the truth to you, Gordon King,"
she said. "I do not always say nice things to people, but I like to say
them to you."
"Why?" he asked.
"I do not know, Gordon King," said Fou-tan, and her eyes dropped from
his level gaze.
They were sitting upon the dry grasses that he had gathered for their
beds. King sat now in silence, looking at the girl. For the thousandth
time he was impressed by her great beauty, and then the face of another
girl arose in a vision between them. It was the face of Susan Anne
Prentice. With a short laugh King turned his gaze down toward the
stream; while once again, upon the opposite cliff-top, the little eyes
of the great man watched them.
"Why do you laugh, Gordon King?" asked Fou-tan, looking up suddenly.
"You would not understand, Fou-tan," he said. He had been thinking of
what Susan Anne would say could she have knowledge of the situation
in which he then was--a situation which he realised was not only
improbable but impossible. Here was he, Gordon King, a graduate
physician, a perfectly normal product of the twentieth century,
sitting almost naked under a big rock with a little slave girl of a
race that had disappeared hundreds of years before. That in itself was
preposterous. But there was another matter that was even less credible;
he realised that he enjoyed the situation, and most of all he enjoyed
the company of the little slave girl.
"You are laughing at me, Gordon King," said Fou-tan, "and I do not like
to be laughed at."
"I was not laughing at you, Fou-tan," he replied. "I could not laugh at
you. I--"
"You what?" she demanded.
"I could not laugh at you," he replied lamely.
"You said that once before, Gordon King," she reminded him. "You
started to say something else. What was it?"
For a moment he was silent. "I have forgotten, Fou-tan," he said then.
His eyes were turned away from her as she looked at him keenly in
silence for some time. Then a slow smile lighted her face and she broke
into a little humming song.
The man upon the opposite cliff withdrew stealthily until he was out
of sight of the two in the gorge below him. Then he arose to an erect
position and crept softly away into the forest. Ready in his hands
were his bow and an arrow. For all his great size and weight he moved
without noise, his little eyes shifting constantly from side to side.
Suddenly, and so quickly that one could scarcely follow the movements
of his hands, an arrow sped from his bow, and an instant later he
stepped forward and picked up a large rat that had been transfixed
by his missile. The creature moved slowly onward, and presently a
little monkey swung through the trees above him. Again the bow-string
twanged, and the little monkey hurtled to the ground at the feet of
the primitive hunter. Squatting on his haunches the man-thing ate the
rat raw; then he carried the monkey back to the edge of the gorge, and
after satisfying himself that the two were still there he fell to upon
the principal item of his dinner; and he was still eating when darkness
came.
Fou-tan had not broken King's embarrassed silence, but presently the
man arose. "Where are you going, Gordon King?" she asked.
"There is some driftwood lodged upon the opposite bank, left there
by last season's flood waters. We shall need it for our cooking fire
to-night."
"I will go with you and help you," said Fou-tan, and together they
crossed the little stream and gathered the dry wood for their fire.
From Che and Kangrey the American had learned to make fire without
matches; and he soon had a little blaze burning, far back beneath the
shelter of their overhanging rock. He had cleaned and washed the fish
and now proceeded to grill them over the fire, while Fou-tan roasted
two large tubers impaled upon the ends of sticks.
"I would not exchange this for the palace of a king, Gordon King," she
said.
"Nor I, Fou-tan," he replied.
"Are you happy, Gordon King?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied. "And you, Fou-tan, are you happy?"
She nodded her head. "It is because you and I are together," she said
simply.
"We come from opposite ends of the earth, Fou-tan," he said, "we are
separated by centuries of time, we have nothing in common, your world
and my world are as remote from one another as the stars; and yet,
Fou-tan, it seems as though I had known you always. It does not seem
possible that I have lived all my life up to now without even knowing
that you existed."
"I have felt that too, Gordon King," said the girl. "I cannot
understand it, but it is so. However, you are wrong in one respect."
"And what is that?" he asked.
"You said that we had nothing in common. We have."
"What is it?" demanded King.
Fou-tan shuddered. "The leprosy," she said. "He touched us both. We
shall both have it."
Gordon King laughed. "We shall never contract leprosy from Lodivarman,"
he said. "I am a doctor. I know."
"Why shall we not?" she demanded.
"Because Lodivarman is not a leper," replied the American.
X