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The man did as he was bid and the instant that his eyes were turned away,

Tarzan slipped from the tent. An hour later he was outside the German camp and

headed for the little hill town of Wilhelmstal, the summer seat of government of

German East Africa.

Fraulein Bertha Kircher was lost. She was humiliated and angry--it was long

before she would admit it, that she, who prided herself upon her woodcraft, was

lost in this little patch of country between the Pangani and the Tanga railway.

She knew that Wilhelmstal lay southeast of her about fifty miles; but, through a

combination of untoward circumstances, she found herself unable to determine

which was southeast.

In the first place she had set out from German headquarters on a well-marked

road that was being traveled by troops and with every reason to believe that she

would follow that road to Wilhelmstal. Later she had been warned from this road

by word that a strong British patrol had come down the west bank of the

Pangani, effected a crossing south of her, and was even then marching on the

railway at Tonda.

After leaving the road she found herself in thick bush and as the sky was heavily

overcast she presently had recourse to her compass and it was not until then that

she discovered to her dismay that she did not have it with her. So sure was she of

her woodcraft, however, that she continued on in the direction she thought west

until she had covered sufficient distance to warrant her in feeling assured that,

by now turning south, she could pass safely in rear of the British patrol.

Nor did she commence to feel any doubts until long after she had again turned

toward the east well south, as she thought, of the patrol. It was late afternoon--

she should long since have struck the road again south of Tonda; but she had

found no road and now she began to feel real anxiety.

Her horse had traveled all day without food or water, night was approaching and

with it a realization that she was hopelessly lost in a wild and trackless country

notorious principally for its tsetse flies and savage beasts. It was maddening to

know that she had absolutely no knowledge of the direction she was traveling--

that she might be forging steadily further from the railway, deeper into the

gloomy and forbidding country toward the Pangani; yet it was impossible to stop-

she must go on.

Bertha Kircher was no coward, whatever else she may have been, but as night

began to close down around her she could not shut out from her mind entirely

contemplation of the terrors of the long hours ahead before the rising sun should

Tarzan the Untamed