that he had stolen
from the city of Bu-lur; but what more greatly concerned the woman than
his filth or his armament were his cackling laughter and the strange
expression in his eyes.

She went on with her work, however, removing those parts of the buck
she wanted, taking only as much meat as she might consume before it
spoiled, as she was not sufficiently a true jungle creature to relish
it beyond that stage, and then she straightened up and faced the man.

"Lieutenant Obergatz," she said, "by a chance of accident we have met
again. Certainly you would not have sought the meeting any more than I.
We have nothing in common other than those sentiments which may have
been engendered by my natural dislike and suspicion of you, one of the
authors of all the misery and sorrow that I have endured for endless
months. This little corner of the world is mine by right of discovery
and occupation. Go away and leave me to enjoy here what peace I may. It
is the least that you can do to amend the wrong that you have done me
and mine."

The man stared at her through his fishy eyes for a moment in silence,
then there broke from his lips a peal of mirthless, uncanny laughter.

"Go away! Leave you alone!" he cried. "I have found you. We are going
to be good friends. There is no one else in the world but us. No one
will ever know what we do or what becomes of us and now you ask me to
go away and live alone in this hellish solitude." Again he laughed,
though neither the muscles of his eyes or his mouth reflected any
mirth--it was just a hollow sound that imitated laughter.

"Remember your promise," she said.

"Promise! Promise! What are promises? They are made to be broken--we
taught the world that at Liege and Louvain. No, no! I will not go
away. I shall stay and protect you."

"I do not need your protection," she insisted. "You have already seen
that I can use a spear."

"Yes," he said; "but it would not be right to leave you here alone--you
are but a woman. No, no; I am an officer of the Kaiser and I cannot
abandon you."

Once more he laughed. "We could be very happy here together," he added.

The woman could not repress a shudder, nor, in fact, did she attempt to
hide her aversion.

"You do not like me?" he asked. "Ah, well; it is too sad. But some day
you will love me," and again the hideous laughter.

The woman had wrapped the pieces of the buck in the hide and this she
now raised and threw across her shoulder. In he