st serpent may slay us. The jungle cats destroy
us with ease, if we be not equipped with artificial weapons which our
better brains have created. As Manape, Barter's trained ape, I am
better fitted to protect Ellen than if I were Bentley--the Bentley of
the _Bengal Queen_. Yet she will cower away from me when she wakens."

Now Bentley was down, and Apeman was charging. He charged at a
staggering run. He stepped on a thorn, hesitated, and whimpered. But
he possessed unusual courage, for he still came on. Apeman knew the
law of the jungle, that the weakest must die. Death was to be his
portion if he could not withstand the assaults of Manape, and he came
to meet his fate with high brute courage.

Apeman was close in. His hands were swinging, fists closed, in a
strange travesty of a fighting man. Apeman was snarling. He groped for
the throat of Manape with his human teeth--which sank home in the
tough hide of Manape, hurting him as little as though Apeman were
toothless.

"As Bentley I would have no chance at all against a great ape," said
Bentley to himself.

* * * * *

How could he take the pugnacity out of Apeman without destroying him?
If he struck him he might strike too hard and slay Apeman--which was
the equivalent of slaying himself. So Manape extended his mighty
hands, caught Apeman under the armpits and held him up, feet swinging
free. Yet Apeman still struggled, gnashed his teeth, and beat himself
on the chest.

How utterly futile! As futile as Bentley in his own casement would
have been against a great ape! Apeman might destroy himself through
his very rage. How could Bentley render the travesty unconscious and
yet make sure that Apeman did not die?

If he struck he might strike too hard and slay.

What should he do?

A low coughing sound came from somewhere close by. From the deeps of
his consciousness Bentley knew that sound. He clutched Apeman in his
right arm, swung back to the tree and up among the branches. He was
just in time. The tawny form of a great cat passed beneath, missing
him by inches.

But while he had saved himself and Apeman, he had been clumsy. He had
struck the head of Apeman against the bole of the tree, and Apeman
hung limp in his arm. Bentley, fear such as he had never before known
gripping him, pressed his huge ear to Apeman's heart. It was beating
steadily and strongly. With a great inner sigh of relief he climbed to
safety in the tree, bear