Bride of the Serpent God | Page 7

a tree, he climbed cautiously into its upper limbs. In the high branches of the tall tree, he selected a comfortable perch, leaned back against the trunk and closed his aching eyes. The gentle sway and movement of the ancient tree quickly lulled the big man to sleep. So passed another night and day, with Ki-Gor, except for occasional trips to the river, resting and sleeping like any animal recovering from its wounds. The feverish burn left Ki-Gor's body, and he shook off the sense of giddy weakness. Hunger began to prick him into activity. He set out in search of food. His keen eyes searched the jungle floor for the fresh spoor of game, and at length along a narrow trail he came across recent signs made by a small buck.
The Jungle Lord's long stride lengthened, as driven by hunger, he quickened his pace. He sped down the narrow green aisle, eluding the occasional choking stands of bramble, slipping wraith-like over the bunched undergrowth.
Ever fresher was the scent of the deer. Ki-Gor's hand slipped automatically to the hilt of his knife, the always present knife which had stayed at his waist even during his struggles in the water. The blade gleamed free in his right hand. The jungle was silent except for the raucous calls of a few brilliantly plumaged birds.
Ki-Gor's passage was soundless. He was in every sense a cunning relentless huntsman. He was downwind from the unsuspecting buck, and though the animal's scent drew him on like a magnet, his own presence was protected from the hunted creature. He glided within yards of where the buck stood browsing.
He sprinted to within arm's reach of the fleeing buck, and in a bounding leap, dived on the animal with crushing weight. The shock of Ki-Gor's onslaught toppled the buck, and his knife bit deep into the creature's vitals as it fell.
His appetite satisfied, the Jungle Lord stretched luxuriously and looked about for a protected resting place. But a strange feeling of urgency began to permeate his being, and refused to let him rest. Though he was completely unable to fathom the reason, something within him propelled Ki-Gor back to the river. He gave in to this inner urging and began moving leisurely back along the trail he had recently traversed.
When Ki-Gor reached the river, he hesitated a moment and then swung upstream. It was not long before the cat-treading white giant neared the clearing where the natives had attacked him and carried off Helene. Ki-Gor did not think at this time of the treacherous assault. He did not recall the event, for the dreadful blows he had suffered on the head had blotted out even any remembrance of Helene. Buried deep within his subconscious, however, was the burning knowledge of his mate and it was this that drew him back to the clearing.
Ki-Gor came up to the edge of the clearing along a narrow animal trail through a rustling break of tall reeds. He paused, cautious jungle creature that he was, to survey the ground ahead before advancing into the open. His keen gray eyes automatically searched the clearing, alert for any sign of danger.
Ki-Gor's eyes suddenly narrowed and grew cold. He drew back into the concealment of the reeds, and the powerful muscles along his lean hard body tightened. There on the river bank, its carved prow drawn up on the green grass, stood a long, grim war canoe.

III. - The Black Arrow
Ki-Gor stared long at the war craft. The sight of the boat stirred a feeling of anger in him, started the blood surging through his veins. This instantaneous reaction was a completely unreasoning one, for he had no idea why this sight should stir such emotions. Soon his careful, wary visual search for any sign of life or hidden enemy, convinced him the open plot was deserted.
Satisfied no enemy lurked in ambush, the Jungle Lord glided out of the rustling reeds to the war canoe. The scent of natives, still fresh and strong, was in the boat. Ki-Gor studied the footprints about the boat, and then went up the low slope following the natives' clear trail. At the top of the slope, he found the remains of a recent campfire and scattered remnants of food.
He was painstakingly studying the ground, when nearby he heard the muffled voices of natives. Ki-Gor stood still for a moment, judging the sound. He turned then and ran lightly to a gnarled tree a few yards away. With one powerful spring, he leapt high in the air, caught a sturdy branch, and rapidly pulled himself up into the leafy protection of the upper boughs.
The white man watched narrowly as three armed natives, tall, brawny men, emerged from a jungle trail and passed directly below him. He saw the warriors halt and