sorrow had been so
deep that the thought of ever mingling again with human beings grew
still more unutterably distasteful. Finally and for all time, he
thought, the die was cast. Of his own volition he had become a beast,
a beast he had lived, a beast he would die.

Now that it was too late, he regretted it. For now Meriem, still
living, had been revealed to him in a guise of progress and advancement
that had carried her completely out of his life. Death itself could
not have further removed her from him. In her new world she loved a
man of her own kind. And Korak knew that it was right. She was not
for him--not for the naked, savage ape. No, she was not for him; but
he still was hers. If he could not have her and happiness, he would at
least do all that lay in his power to assure happiness to her. He
would follow the young Englishman. In the first place he would know
that he meant Meriem no harm, and after that, though jealously wrenched
his heart, he would watch over the man Meriem loved, for Meriem's sake;
but God help that man if he thought to wrong her!

Slowly he aroused himself. He stood erect and stretched his great
frame, the muscles of his arms gliding sinuously beneath his tanned
skin as he bent his clenched fists behind his head. A movement on the
ground beneath caught his eye. An antelope was entering the clearing.
Immediately Korak became aware that he was empty--again he was a beast.
For a moment love had lifted him to sublime heights of honor and
renunciation.

The antelope was crossing the clearing. Korak dropped to the ground
upon the opposite side of the tree, and so lightly that not even the
sensitive ears of the antelope apprehended his presence. He uncoiled
his grass rope--it was the latest addition to his armament, yet he was
proficient with it. Often he traveled with nothing more than his knife
and his rope--they were light and easy to carry. His spear and bow and
arrows were cumbersome and he usually kept one or all of them hidden
away in a private cache.

Now he held a single coil of the long rope in his right hand, and the
balance in his left. The antelope was but a few paces from him.
Silently Korak leaped from his hiding place swinging the rope free from
the entangling shrubbery. The antelope sprang away almost instantly;
but instantly, too, the coiled rope, with its sliding noose, flew
through the air above him. With unerring precision it settled about
the creatur