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Chapter XVIII - Among the Maniacs
As the lions swarmed over her protectors, Bertha Kircher shrank back in the cave
in a momentary paralysis of fright super-induced, perhaps, by the long days of
terrific nerve strain which she had undergone.
Mingled with the roars of the lions had been the voices of men, and presently out
of the confusion and turmoil she felt the near presence of a human being, and
then hands reached forth and seized her. It was dark and she could see but little,
nor any sign of the English officer or the ape-man. The man who seized her kept
the lions from her with what appeared to be a stout spear, the haft of which he
used to beat off the beasts. The fellow dragged her from the cavern the while he
shouted what appeared to be commands and warnings to the lions.
Once out upon the light sands of the bottom of the gorge objects became more
distinguishable, and then she saw that there were other men in the party and
that two half led and half carried the stumbling figure of a third, whom she
guessed must be Smith-Oldwick.
For a time the lions made frenzied efforts to reach the two captives but always the
men with them succeeded in beating them off. The fellows seemed utterly
unafraid of the great beasts leaping and snarling about them, handling them
much the same as one might handle a pack of obstreperous dogs. Along the bed
of the old watercourse that once ran through the gorge they made their way, and
as the first faint lightening of the eastern horizon presaged the coming dawn, they
paused for a moment upon the edge of a declivity, which appeared to the girl in
the strange light of the waning night as a vast, bottomless pit; but, as their
captors resumed their way and the light of the new day became stronger, she saw
that they were moving downward toward a dense forest.
Once beneath the over-arching trees all was again Cimmerian darkness, nor was
the gloom relieved until the sun finally arose beyond the eastern cliffs, when she
saw that they were following what appeared to be a broad and well-beaten game
trail through a forest of great trees. The ground was unusually dry for an African
forest and the underbrush, while heavily foliaged, was not nearly so rank and
impenetrable as that which she had been accustomed to find in similar woods. It
was as though the trees and the bushes grew in a waterless country, nor was
there the musty odor of decaying vegetation or the myriads of tiny insects such as
are bred in damp places.
As they proceeded and the sun rose higher, the voices of the arboreal jungle life
rose in discordant notes and loud chattering about them. Innumerable monkeys
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