AT sixteen Ramona Suarez was still something of a tomboy. She loved to mingle with the dark-skinned children and mongrel dogs of the laborers on her father’s great rubber plantation. She took great delight in climbing trees, scaling walls and exploring thickets, to the despair of her doting old duenna, Señora Soledade. Her duenna scolded her, her mother, Doña Isabella, tried to reason with her, and her father, Don Fernando, who secretly chuckled over her escapades, tried to look stern when required to lecture her.
But they might as profitably have scolded the wind, reasoned with the rain cloud, or lectured the lightning. Ramona would listen dutifully, then, with a flash of white teeth and a shake of her dark brown ringlets; would romp away to hatch up some new deviltry.
Señora Soledade, corpulent and dignified, was of the opinion that the big patio, with its flowers shrubs and trees, winding walks; vine-clad arbors and bubbling fountains, was a large enough world for any girl. Charged with the duty of keeping Ramona always in sight, and taking the task in all seriousness, she was really able to do so only about half the time.
One day the old duenna was seated in the shade of an arbor in the patio, working on a bit of lace, and Ramona was busily engaged beneath a nearby orange tree with her English tutor, Arthur Morrison. Quite positive that her charge would not get away so long as the tutor was about, and drowsy from the mounting heat, the señora settled back comfortably in her chair, and with her hands folded over her ample equator, dozed.
But scarcely had she fallen asleep when the tutor, with a final charge to his pupil to study diligently, strolled away.
Ramona waited slyly until the tutor had entered the house. Then she peeked at the old lady, and saw that the coast was clear. Leaving her text-books, pencils and rulers beneath the orange tree, she picked up one of her favorite story books and climbed the tree.
At first it had been Ramona’s intention to read the book in the tree, thus dumfounding the duenna when she should awaken; yet one side of the tree overhung the patio wall, giving her a new idea. Softly she let herself down from, a branch to the top of the wall, then, with the book gripped between her teeth, suspended herself by her hands on the other side, and dropped. She had attained the freedom she craved and she meant to make the most of it.
Tucking the book under her arm, she wandered off between the tall straight trunks of one of her father’s young rubber groves until she came to the river bank. Then she sat down, leaned against a tree, and immersed herself in her book.
Ramona was an avid reader, and soon forgot her surroundings. But she was brought sharply back to reality by two sounds, one following the other in rapid succession: the twang of a bow-string and the roar of a mountain lion. For a moment she was paralyzed with fear and in that moment the great beast charged:
But quick as the puma had been, there was one who was quicker. Ramona was conscious for an instant of the lithe, auburn-haired youth who put himself between her and the charging death. Then for a moment things happened so swiftly that she could scarcely follow them—the roaring beast, the youth’s swift and skillful slash that crippled one of the great paws, and his leap for safety, blocked by the projecting root.
The girl uttered a single, piercing scream as she saw her champion go down. Then she leaped to her feet, undecided for a moment whether to run for help or go to the assistance of her champion. She decided on the latter course, and looked around for a weapon.
Jan’s bow and arrows lay where he had thrown them, and she caught them up. Fitting an arrow to the string, she aimed it at the heaving flank of the puma, and pulled. But the hardwood bow was very stiff, and even though Ramona exerted her utmost strength she could only draw the arrow back a few inches. As a result, it barely penetrated the tough skin with little more effect than the bite of a fly.
Seeing the futility of that, Ramona struck at the puma with the heavy boxy. But here, again her strength was not great enough to distract the attention of the huge feline. What could she do to save this handsome knight of the jungle who had come so gallantly to her rescue?
She knew that house-cats become greatly annoyed when their tails are pulled. Perhaps this also applied to the big cats of the jungle. She could only try.
Springing around to the rear, she seized the long tail with both hands, braced her feet, and pulled. At this instant, the snarling of the beast was stilled. She saw the machete fall from Jan’s fingers—saw him go limp at the same moment that the puma, a final shiver running through its frame, sank heavily down on his senseless body.
Ramona leaped to one side and pulled. Gradually she was able to drag the great beast off the prostrate form of her champion. But the sharp teeth were still clamped into the bloody and lacerated shoulder. Picking up the machete, she pried the jaws apart.
Tenderly she raised the youth’s head, placed it in her lap, and with her tiny handkerchief attempted to wipe away the blood. But the little square of lace proved quite inadequate, and she threw it away, soaked with blood, before more than a small part of one cheek had been cleansed.
The river was only about twenty feet away. Gently lowering his head from her lap, she dragged him to the water’s edge. She ripped a panel of cloth from her white frock, and dipping it in the water, proceeded to bathe his face and wounded shoulder.
The cold water and the pressure of the cloth on Jan’s wounds brought him to his senses. The blinding pain made him think for a moment that he was still in the grip of the puma. He tried to escape. Springing erect he knocked his little nurse flat in the mud.
For a moment he stood there, staring wildly down at her, while she gazed back in wide-eyed wonder and alarm. Then she smiled, a wistful little smile, and Jan, who in all the jungle had found no friends save Chicma and Borno, knew that he had found another.
He wanted to say something to her. But what? And how? It would be useless to bark at her in the chimpanzee language. He had tried that unsuccessfully on Borno and other humans. And the few words which Borno had taught him had quite vague meanings for him. However, they were human words, and this creature was undoubtedly human.
“I spik ze Engleesh,” he announced, with Borno’s accent, intently watching to see what effect his words would have.
She smiled again, and sprang lightly to her feet.
“I speak it, too,” she said. ‘My name is Ramona.”
“My name Jan,” he replied, and added naively, “Jan like you.”
Before the girl, could reply the shrill voice of Señora Soledade called:
“Ramona!”
“Si, señora,” she replied.
“Come here this instant!” was the command in Spanish, which of course Jan did not understand.
“I must go now, Jan. Good-bye,” said Ramona, and ran through the grove in the direction from which the voice had come.
Jan watched her until she disappeared from view. Then, with strange reluctance, he picked up his machete and his bow and arrows, and plunged off into the jungle. His wounds were very painful, especially his mangled shoulder. He must get to Chicma as soon as possible. She would lick them and make them well after the manner of ape mothers, as she had often licked the bloody welts inflicted by Cruel One, the doctor. But he was hot thinking of his wounds.
It had taken him only four days to reach the rubber plantation from their tree-hut, but that was when he was well and strong. Wounded and weakened by loss of blood, he was six days in making the return journey. By this time his wounds had closed and although they were still quite painful, Chicma showed no interest in them.
Recalling the soothing effect of the water with which Ramona had bathed his hurts he left the chimpanzee dozing in the tree-hut and, descending, waded into the pool beneath the waterfall. The cold water allayed the fever, and he paddled about for some time in the manner of a young puppy.
For two more weeks he divided his time between the tree-hut and the pool, doing no hunting, and living on the fruits that abounded in, this earthly paradise. One day,as he was paddling and splashing in the water, he discovered that by moving his hands and feet in a certain way he could keep afloat. Thrilled by this discovery, he tried again and again, until he was able to swim about the pool at will.
Interested in this new sport, he began to watch the manner in which other creatures of the jungle swam, and to imitate them. The four-legged animals, he noticed swam as he did, but the frogs did it in quite a different fashion. It was some time before he was able to duplicate their kicking stroke, but he mastered it eventually.
The frogs, he decided, were the really expert water creatures, and he attempted to imitate them further by entering the water as they did. His first dive was not a pronounced success, as forgetting his lesson on the ocean, he made the mistake of trying to breathe beneath the surface. Half-strangled, he quickly paddled to shore, and having coughed up most of the water, decided to try again.
It was not long before he learned to hold his breath and dive with the swift skill of the amphibians.
At first he only dived off the bank of the pool, but later he began practicing dives from higher points—a projecting ledge of rock, an overhanging limb. Once his foot slipped and he fell from a considerable height, alighting flat with a loud smack that all but knocked the wind from him. This taught him that the water could be very soft or very hard, according to the way one fell. After that, he took care to cleave it cleanly and gracefully.
One day, when his wounds were healed and he was beginning to feel the urge of the jungle trails, he dived from one of the lower boughs of the tree in which his hut was situated. The force of the dive carried him clear up behind the curtain of tumbling waters—a place he had not previously explored. He drew himself up onto a jagged, rocky ledge and sat there for some time, listening to the roar of the falls and admiring the thin sheet of water with the faint light filtering through it.
Presently, as his eyes became accustomed to the dim light of the place, he made out, high above him, two figures so strikingly manlike in form that he started and involuntarily clutched the hilt of his sheathed machete—without which he seldom ventured anywhere. In a moment he saw that they were not men, but harmless images of stone with manlike bodies and grotesque faces, one of which resembled that of a hawk, and the other that of a dog. He also noticed that leading up the face of the cliff to the ledge on which they stood, were a number of notches cut deeply into the stone.
Springing to his feet, he climbed rapidly upward by means of the notches, and drew himself up on the ledge. Here a new surprise awaited him, for he saw that the two grotesque statues guarded the mouth of a dark passageway which extended into the solid rock beneath the waterfall.
His curiosity aroused, Jan cautiously entered the passageway. It led straight into the cliff for about fifteen feet, then veered to the right and upward. As soon as he made the turn, he was in total darkness and was compelled to grope his way forward.
The passageway leveled out, presently, and turned sharply to the left.
Still groping in inky blackness, Jan discovered, by the murmur of water beside the pathway, that he was walking on the bank of an underground stream. A walk of about ten minutes brought him to a point where dim light filtered into the cavern. It came from just above the surface of the water, where the cavern roof dipped, arching over it at a height of only a few inches. Here the path he had been following led straight into the water.
Jan paused here for a moment undecided whether to go on or to retrace his steps. But his insatiable curiosity won out and he waded into the water. The bank sloped steeply, and he was soon swimming against the swift current.
When he reached the point from which the light emanated he was forced to turn on his back in order to keep his nose above water, because of the narrow space between the cavern roof and the surface of the stream.
Suddenly he shot out into the bright sunlight. Turning over, he looked about him and saw that he was in the middle of a narrow river, which apparently flowed straight into the solid rock. A few swift strokes took him to shore. He climbed the high bank, and when he reached the top, stopped in sudden amazement at what he saw. For he stood before the ruins of an immense building, the remaining walls of which were covered with gigantic bas-reliefs depicting strange, angular-looking human beings, some with heads like birds or animals, some with beards that reminded him of the detested Dr. Bracken, and some with not unhandsome human features. They seemed to be engaged in fighting each other, or in hunting strange beasts or birds.
Some of the tall columns of the facade were still standing, supporting fragments of ornamental cornices. Others had fallen and broken into cylindrical sections.
Guarding the portal of this strange edifice, on either side, were two colossal statues with bodies that were human in form, but one had a face like a hawk’s and the other like that of a dog. They resembled the two statues he had seen beneath the waterfall, but were much larger.
Leading to this portal were the remains of a paved avenue now broken and weed-grown. Along each side of this highway was a row of pedestals, on some of which stood statues of grotesque monster, half beast, half human. Others had fallen or been overturned, and their cracked and shattered fragments were strewn about among the weeds and broken fragments of paving slabs.
Thrilled with awe and wonder at these strange sights, Jan was slowly advancing toward the portal when he caught the guarded movement of something creeping toward him in the undergrowth at his right. He whipped out his machete and paused, watching breathlessly. Then he saw another movement as something passed through the undergrowth on his left.
Suddenly two great shaggy creatures bounded out onto the sparsely grown avenue and closed in on him. They were manlike and yet apelike in form with long bushy beards and hairy bodies. One brandished a huge club menacingly, while the other hurled a large rock fragment straight at the boy’s head.
Jan managed to dodge the missile, and turned to flee. But he had not taken more than a dozen leaps when a third hairy monster sprang in front of him, barring his progress, and swung for his head with a heavy cudgel.