Part 18 (1/2)

With a little gasp of terror Jane Clayton rose to her feet in the jungle path The rifle and bandoleer lay forgotten in the shelter beside her Anderssen was forgotten, and Rokoff, and her great peril

All that rioted through her fear-mad brain was the fearful fact that this little, helpless child was stricken with the terrible jungle-fever, and that she was helpless to do aught to allay its sufferings-sufferings that were sure to co intervals of partial consciousness

Her one thought was to find some one who could help her-soht cae of which Anderssen had spoken If she could but reach it-in time!

There was no time to be lost Like a startled antelope she turned and fled up the trail in the direction Anderssen had indicated

Fro of men, the sound of shots, and then silence She knew that Anderssen had met the Russian

A half-hour later she stue Instantly she was surrounded by er, curious, excited natives plied her with a hundred questions, no one of which she could understand or answer

All that she could do was to point tearfully at the baby, noailing piteously in her arms, and repeat over and over, ”Fever-fever-fever”

The blacks did not understand her words, but they saw the cause of her trouble, and soon a young woman had pulled her into a hut and with several others was doing her poor best to quiet the child and allay its agony

The witch doctor came and built a little fire before the infant, upon which he boiled so weird passes above it and e, monotonous chants Presently he dipped a zebra's tail into the brew, and with further s and incantations sprinkled a few drops of the liquid over the baby's face

After he had gone the woht that she should goit all out of the kindness of their hearts, she endured the frightful waking night

It ht that she becae She heard the voices of the natives raised in controversy, but she could not understand the words

Presently she heard footsteps approaching the hut in which she squatted before a bright fire with the baby on her lap The little thing lay very still now, its lids, half-raised, showed the pupils horribly upturned

Jane Clayton looked into the little face with fear-haunted eyes It was not her baby-not her flesh and blood-but how close, how dear the tiny, helpless thing had becoone out to this poor, little, nameless waif, and lavished upon it all the love that had been denied her during the long, bitter weeks of her captivity aboard the Kincaid

She saw that the end was near, and though she was terrified at contemplation of her loss, still she hoped that it would cos of the little victim

The footsteps she had heard without the hut now halted before the door There was a whispered colloquy, and a anwazam, chief of the tribe, entered She had seen but little of him, as the women had taken her in hand alanwazae with every e upon his bestial countenance To Jane Clayton he looked orilla than human He tried to converse with her, but without success, and finally he called to soro entered-a anwazam-so different, in fact, that Jane Clayton immediately decided that he was of another tribe This man acted as interpreter, and alanwazae was atte to draw inforht it strange that the fellow should so suddenly have become interested in her plans, and especially in her intended destination when her journey had been interrupted at his village

Seeing no reason for withholding the information, she told him the truth; but when he asked if she expected to meet her husband at the end of the trip, she shook her head negatively

Then he told her the purpose of his visit, talking through the interpreter

”I have just learned,” he said, ”froreat water, that your husband followed you up the Ugambi for several marches, when he was at last set upon by natives and killed Therefore I have told you this that youjourney if you expected to meet your husband at the end of it; but instead could turn and retrace your steps to the coast”