n dread.

It was the voice of his sister Helen, uttered in tones of alarm?

Turning suddenly, he wondered not that her cries were continued in the
wildest terror, mingled with convulsive ejaculations. A man had drawn
near her, and oh! such a man! Never in all his experience, nor in his
darkest and most distorted dreams, had he seen, or dreamt of, a human
being so hideous, as that he now saw, half-standing, half-crouching,
only a short distance from his sister's resting-place.

It was a man who, if he had only been in an erect attitude, would have
stood at least eight feet in height, and this would have been in an
under-proportion to the size of his head, the massive breadth of his
body across the breast and shoulders, and the length of his arms. But
it was not his gigantic size which made him so terrible, or which
electrified the heart of the boy, at a safe distance, as it had done
that of the girl, nearer and in more danger. It was the _tout ensemble_
of this strange creature in human shape--a man apparently covered all
over with red hair, thick and shaggy, as upon the skin of a wolf or
bear; bright red over the body and limbs, and blacker upon the face,
where it was thinnest--a creature, in short, such as neither boy nor
girl had ever before seen, and such as was long believed to exist only
in the imagination of the ancients, under the appellation of "satyr."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

SILENCE RESTORED.

At first sight of the brute, notwithstanding its strangely monstrous
appearance, Henry had really mistaken it for a man; but a moment's
reflection convinced him that he was looking upon an ape instead of a
man, and one of such gigantic size as to make him certain it must be the
animal spoken of by Saloo under the various appellations of _mias
rombi_, _ourang-outang_, and _red gorilla_. Saloo's remarks concerning
this ape, and his emphatic warnings, were not at all pleasant to be now
recalled. Though brave as a young lion, he looked upon the shaggy
monster with fear and trembling. Far less for himself than for his
sister; who, being nearer to it, was, of course, in greater peril of an
attack. This, indeed, seemed imminent, and his first thought was to
rush to the spot and discharge his musket into the monster's face. He
was restrained only by seeing that Helen, moved by an instinct of
self-preservation, had made an effort to save herself by gliding round
the trunk of the tree, and seeking concealment on