t feast
his eyes upon her and be near her, perhaps touch her. The ape-man knew
no god, but he was as near to worshipping his divinity as mortal man
ever comes to worship. While he waited he passed the time printing a
message to her; whether he intended giving it to her he himself could
not have told, but he took infinite pleasure in seeing his thoughts
expressed in print--in which he was not so uncivilized after all. He
wrote:

I am Tarzan of the Apes. I want you. I am yours. You are mine. We
live here together always in my house. I will bring you the best of
fruits, the tenderest deer, the finest meats that roam the jungle. I
will hunt for you. I am the greatest of the jungle fighters. I will
fight for you. I am the mightiest of the jungle fighters. You are
Jane Porter, I saw it in your letter. When you see this you will know
that it is for you and that Tarzan of the Apes loves you.

As he stood, straight as a young Indian, by the door, waiting after he
had finished the message, there came to his keen ears a familiar sound.
It was the passing of a great ape through the lower branches of the
forest.

For an instant he listened intently, and then from the jungle came the
agonized scream of a woman, and Tarzan of the Apes, dropping his first
love letter upon the ground, shot like a panther into the forest.

Clayton, also, heard the scream, and Professor Porter and Mr.
Philander, and in a few minutes they came panting to the cabin, calling
out to each other a volley of excited questions as they approached. A
glance within confirmed their worst fears.

Jane and Esmeralda were not there.

Instantly, Clayton, followed by the two old men, plunged into the
jungle, calling the girl's name aloud. For half an hour they stumbled
on, until Clayton, by merest chance, came upon the prostrate form of
Esmeralda.

He stopped beside her, feeling for her pulse and then listening for her
heartbeats. She lived. He shook her.

"Esmeralda!" he shrieked in her ear. "Esmeralda! For God's sake,
where is Miss Porter? What has happened? Esmeralda!"

Slowly Esmeralda opened her eyes. She saw Clayton. She saw the jungle
about her.

"Oh, Gaberelle!" she screamed, and fainted again.

By this time Professor Porter and Mr. Philander had come up.

"What shall we do, Mr. Clayton?" asked the old professor. "Where shall
we look? God could not have been so cruel as to take my little girl
away from me now."

"We