King of Fang and Claw | Page 6

grew steadily louder. Whipping back the tarpaulin, Rand set a great puff of black smoke skyward. Then hastily he blanketed the fire again, to repeat the operation.
The last slanting rays of the sun picked out a glinting speck in the sky and turned it to shining gold. It grew slowly larger until it resembled a giant, iridescent dragon fly soaring far above the earth.
"John!" called Constance anxiously. "He's going to miss us. He's bearing north instead of west!"
Rand flung a hasty glance upward. He whipped up a last cloud of smoke from his fire, then clutching the tarpaulin, he raced down to the shore of the lake.
The plane loomed larger now but its nose was not pointed directly for the clearing. And it was riding high--much higher than Rand would have wished. With a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach, he realized that from where the unknown pilot rode in his cockpit, the wreckage of Rand's ship was hidden by the towering trees and the clearing itself was scarcely visible.
Swiftly he splashed out into the lake until the water rose above his waist and waved the tarpaulin over his head. But the plane held to its steady course and did not falter.
Though he knew the pilot could not hear him, he cried out hoarsely. He flapped the heavy tarpaulin until his arms ached. But neither the rising column of smoke from the clearing nor his wildly gesticulating figure were seen. The motor of the ship in the air rose to a high crescendo, then diminished again as it continued on.
Not until it had become a vanishing dot in the blue did John Rand's arms drop. Wearily he plodded back to his wife and child. Constance made a manful effort to conceal her bitter disappointment. She smiled, a little tremulously.
"Well, it looks as though we've failed to thumb a ride."
Rand dropped the tarpaulin and sank down beside her. "Pooh! This is a main highway. Busy traffic. There'll be another along in a moment." Then, more soberly, he went on. "He'll be back--probably tomorrow. It was the sunset. If he had come an hour earlier, he'd have spotted me at the edge of the lake. Or if he'd come an hour later, he'd have seen the light of the fire. Better luck next time."
But in the most important aspect of this optimistic prediction, Rand was wrong. True, the plane came again on the next day--and one the day after that. But each time it was farther from their lonely camp. The last time it appeared, it was but a dim speck far towards the horizon.
Helplessly they watched it vanish from their sight and no amount of forced good humor could hide the ache in their hearts.
Then three days passed and though they strained eyes and ears, the ship did not come again Reluctantly they had to voice the dismal conclusion that their would-be rescuers had given them up to the jungle.
Constance consoled herself with the thought that as soon as her leg had mended, they would begin the long over-land trek that would carry them out of the wilderness. Her husband would not deprive her of this meager consolation but he realized that until the long rainy season Was ended--and it had just set in, in earnest--they must remain in their lonely outpost.
They were both astounded and in a measure glad, to hear young David declare that he liked the jungle and had no desire to leave it. The fact that he was thoroughly enjoying their enforced sojourn in the wilds lightened their own burden.

CHAPTER IV
The Jungle Takes Its Toll
It was exactly a week since the mighty Zar had watched the strange bird come swooping down to rest in the clearing. Now curiosity stirred again in his mind. For a long while he hesitated, remembering the alien emotion he had felt for the first time at the sight of the grotesque, two legged creature. Then impelled by a fascination he could not resist, he headed for the camp.
He had not travelled far when he came to an abrupt halt. His head came up and sniffed the air with flaring nostrils. The tip of his tail twitched when his nose told him that N'Jaga, the leopard, was already stalking in the same direction.
Zar's amber eyes gleamed with resentment. One peremptory roar to announce his coming--and N'Jaga would reluctantly relinquish the trail to his mighty overlord. A growl started deep in his throat, then died.
Zar's pride ruled the jungle but it did not rule his own cunning brain. Let N'Jaga stalk this strange prey. He would be content to wait--to watch--to learn.
His huge paws trod the jungle floor as silently as pads of velvet. His tawny body wove easily through the dense, tangled undergrowth, barely disturbing a leaf in his passing.
From the