terable anguish.

Helen, the dear daughter and sister, carried out of their sight,
apparently beyond reach of pursuit. And in the arms of a hideous
creature which was neither wholly man nor wholly beast, but combined the
worst attributes of each.

Perhaps she was already dead within the loathsome embrace--her tender
body soon to be torn to pieces, or tossed from the top of some tall
tree; to be crushed and mangled on the earth, or thrown with a plunge
into the cold dark waters of that dismal lagoon, never more to be seen
or heard of.

These were horrid thoughts and hideous images which rushed rapidly
through their minds as they stood in the sombre shadow, picturing to
themselves her too probable fate. It was no longer a question about her
life.

They knew, or believed, her to be dead. They only thought of what was
to become of her body; what chance there might be of recovering and
giving it the sacred rights of sepulture. Even this slight consolation
occupied the mind of the distracted father.

The Malay, well acquainted with the habits of the great man-ape, could
give no answer. He only knew that the child's body would not be eaten
up by it; since the red gorilla is never known to feed upon flesh--fruit
and vegetables being its only diet.

The whole thing was perplexing him, as an occurrence altogether unusual.
He had known of people being killed and torn to pieces by the animal in
its anger; but never of one being carried up into the trees.

Usually these animals will not volunteer an attack upon man, and are
only violent when assailed. Then, indeed, are they terrible in their
strength as in their ferocity.

The one now encountered must have been infuriated by its fight with the
crocodile; and coming straight from the encounter, had in some way
connected the children with its conquered enemy. Murtagh's shout might
have freshly incensed it; or, what to Saloo seemed more probable than
all, the seizure of the child might be a wild freak suddenly striking
the brain of the enraged satyr.

He had heard of such eccentricities on the part of the ourang-outang,
and there is a belief among the Dyak hunters that the mias sometimes
goes _mad_, just as men do.

This reasoning did not take place on the edge of the lagoon, nor any
discussion of such questions. They were thoughts that had been
expressed during the pursuit, at no time hurried. The captain and his
companions had easily kept pace with the pursued,