Bride of the Serpent God | Page 3

and fell shuddering and dying in the dirt.
Maddened by the sound of her dying mate, the lioness, slavering with anger and excitement, bounded forward to the attack. Ki-Gor had anticipated this move, however, and the moment he threw the spear he resumed his leaping rush. He swept by Helene, straight at the oncoming lioness. The knife from his belt sheath gleamed in his right hand. There was a lash of bodies and a blinding melee of dust. The harsh grunts of the man mingled with the staccato growling hate of the animal. Through the cloud of dust Helene saw Ki-Gor fasten himself with unbreakable grip on the back of the lioness, his left arm tight about the creature's throat, while the right hand drove the knife with relentless power again and again into the chest. The plunging beast staggered and stumbled and fell lifeless. Ki-Gor stepped back lightly from the inert body, and the cruel mask on his face softened and disappeared. He pulled a great draught of air into his lungs, then bent with steady hands to clean his knife. Thrusting the weapon back in its sheath, he turned, calm and unshaken, and walked to Helene's side.
"It's all right now," he said.
Her eyes were still large with fright, but seeing how unperturbed her mate was, she caught hold of her feelings, and smiling, reached out a small hand to caress Ki-Gor's arm.
She smiled, and her voice was steady, as she said, "You really have a time trying to get your wife fed, don't you, Ki-Gor?"
He took her by the arm and guided her close to the riverbank. Selecting a clear spot for a fire, he set about collecting firewood and stones for heating. Expertly he arranged the wood and stones, and in the age-old jungle manner of rapidly revolving a dry stick with his broad hands, he soon had flames biting their way along the base of the wood. Helene gathered the proper leaves, long, broad, heavy leaves to wrap the fish in, while Ki-Gor deftly prepared the fish for cooking.
The Jungle Lord was busy, his back turned to the river, when Helene, looking up the river suddenly cried, "Here comes Tembu George now!"
"I might know food would bring him hurrying at top speed," Ki-Gor said without turning from his task.
Shielding her eyes, Helene strained to make out the figures in the distant boat which swept down stream towards them.
"He certainly is traveling in style," she commented, "that looks like the finest war canoe the Masai ever turned out."
His curiosity aroused, Ki-Gor turned to peer downstream, the opposite direction from which the boat approached. In a puzzled tone he asked, "Where is any war canoe?"
"Why, right there," the girl cried.
He looked up the river then and instantly arose. "That can't be Tembu George. He will come from the other direction."
Gliding swiftly with the current, the big craft came at a fast pace. It was a long, low, rakish boat, seating at least twelve warriors. Paddles dipped rhythmically into the glittering water sending the craft along with practiced skill and precision. Ki-Gor made out the dark forms of the oarsmen now, and he saw the black carved prow.
Apparently the men in the canoe had sighted the couple on the bank, for they veered in and slackened their pace. There was a harsh cry, a flurry of action by the rowers, and the big craft slowed almost to a standstill, and nosed its way up to the bank a few yards from where the jungle couple stood. In the manner of skilled river men, the natives hastily made the boat fast to the shore.
The Jungle Lord saw the leader of the warriors leap ashore. The man was tall and thin, with a lean hard face and nervous, darting eyes. Those uneasy eyes ran quickly over Helene and Ki-Gor, and then the man raised his right hand and called out a greeting of peace. The words he spoke were ones Ki-Gor knew, but his accents were of some distant locality.
"Welcome, traveler," the big white man said, responding to the native's greeting. "The war canoe you have there is one to be proud of."
"Aye! I am proud of it," the black man replied. His eyes flickered past Ki-Gor to Helene and then off up the slope.
"It has carried us far and fast this day," he said. "Tell me, is this the country of the Wasuli? It is many years since I was last here and the region has changed, making it difficult for me to be exactly sure of my place."
Ki-Gor noted that the other natives in the long canoe were now all ashore, and each man was fully armed. With studied casualness, he took in every detail of the group, meanwhile answering, "Yes, this is the upper edge of the Wasuli area,