With her snake, of which they had immediately manifested a fear, she had followed where these monsters led, although unwillingly. They had given her food, but they had appeared to have no thought or consideration of her weakened condition, nor even of the fact that she was a woman and therefore not as strong as themselves. In consequence of this, she had been obliged to march through the jungle till nearly ready to drop from sheer weariness of body. Her clothing had been torn to tatters on the brush; her shoes had been all but ruined, and her flesh had been scratched and bruised.
“That is all there is to tell,” she concluded. “It has been a horrid, desperate existence ever since. The monsters have never been cruel, but I have been burned in the sun, and I have shivered in the rain and chill of night. I have been trembling at the thought of some terrible death, and then praying that I might really die and end all the wretched horror. I couldn’t tell where I was,—you say you don’t even know yourself,—and day and night I have been in a condition of dread bordering on insanity. It has all been so terribly hopeless—so loathsome. Oh how I have suffered! And that horrible old woman has watched me like a hawk, and I couldn’t have escaped if I had tried, and I didn’t know where to get a boat, and I couldn’t make anything—not even clothes,—and the horrid female creatures stole nearly all I had left, and I didn’t even have a needle, or a piece of soap, or a toothbrush!”
“Perhaps I could make you a comb,” I suggested, to drive away her dreadful thoughts, if possible, but she appeared not to hear.
“Poor Papa,” she resumed, “I don’t know what he ever thought, or where he is, or anything about anything.”
“Oh well,” said I, “we’ll soon be getting away from here now, and perhaps the trip will turn out pretty well after all. You’ll probably be at home in a month, forgetting all about this expedition to the land of Missing Links.”
She shook her head, the wild look in her eyes came back. “That is too good a dream to come true,” she said. “It doesn’t seem as if we can ever get away,—but oh, Mr. Nevers—I do hope you will never let them get me back,—oh if only you will take me away—if only you will!” and again she broke down and sobbed, as if it had been a thousand times too much to bear.
“I’ll do it or bust!” I assured her with much enthusiasm. “I couldn’t say more than that if I tried. We’ll come out all right, don’t you worry.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII
A PROSPECT OF WEALTH
None of my Links fell dead at the sight of the goddess and myself, when at last we were “home,” but that was merely because they were too uncivilised to have any nerves. The poor creatures contracted headache over the wonder of it all, however, for it utterly surpassed their powers of speculation.
I think they were much more frightened of the captive snake than they had been at my explosions. For this I blamed them not at all, having been rendered somewhat creepy by the beastly reptile myself. It was much too weird a pet. I was not so indelicate as to mention my feelings on the subject to the goddess, but I did hope the abominable thing would die, or get away.