22 
L A N D & W A T E R 
April 13, igib 
far ahead. The path sjie was on showed no traces of them 
and before she had gone very far slie was confronted with 
the choice between two paths so ahke that they seemed 
twins. 
She chose the WTong one. pursued it for a while, paused to 
hsten and fancied she heard voices. The thorn bush is full of 
illusion to the person wha is alone and listening. 
Then she called out several times but receivecl no answer. 
It was her voice that Tillman and Houghton and Hull heard. 
Had they replied to it things might have been different, but 
they went on to their fate and Chaj'a, receiving no answer, 
went on to hers. 
She followed the path till it divided into three ways, took 
one of them haphazard, and pursued its winding course 
till she was lost as surely as the person whom she was trying 
to find. 
And still she kept on, not trying to escape, but endeavour- 
ing to find. 
She had no thought at all of her own danger, she chd not 
consider in the least the fact that if she found Houghton they 
•would be both in the same position — lost. 
She just sought for him, tilled onh' by the tremendous 
passion that only now was beginning to declare itself in her 
breast. 
Something great as the sea, as reasonless, as powerful. 
She would find him in this terrible place if she kept on. 
If she did not find him she might die — it would be the same 
thing. 
She kept on. 
Then all at once she found a meeting of the ways and 
on the ground three bundles. They w&rc the bundles that 
Hull and his companions had been carrying. She had watched 
them packed that morning, she had watched them unstrapped 
at the midday meal, and there they were, lying on the ground. 
What did it mean ? 
She sat down beside them. What could it mean ? Had 
Macquart and the Rubber Man slain the others then ? There 
■was no sign of a struggle, no blood. The bundles were just 
lying there where they had been cast without a sign to tell of 
the reason why they had been abandoned , 
She listened intently and now, sitting there alone, she 
heard in the utter stillness the voice of the thorn maze, the 
murmur and drone of a million insects inhabiting this green 
and treacherous sphinx. 
For five minutes she sat without moving, waiting, watch- 
ing, listening. Then she rose to her feet, looked in every 
direction and then, stooping and picking up the bundles, she 
resumed her way, taking without choice the path she was 
facing. 
The bundles were not too heavy to carry but they were 
awkward ; she cast one over her shoulder by its strap, held 
one under her right aim and the other in her hand. She did 
not feel the weight nor did their awkwardness trouble her, she 
had only one thought — the man she w.s looking for. 
Then the darkness came. 
This was a terrible moment for Chaya, the gloom filled 
her mind just as it filled the world, vague terrors rose up 
before her. Death, starvation, injury, even the terror that 
lies in entanglement could not influence her or make her 
turn fron> her object, but the terrors of darkness daunted 
her soul. Ghosts of all sorts of superstitions and beliefs 
that had once haunted the brains of her ancestors awoke in 
her mind and walked there, paralysing her thought. She 
wished to hide, but there was no place of refuge. Then, as 
though the darkness were a heavy load bearing her down, she 
crouched on the ground beneath the stars. 
On this, as on nearly all the paths, there were trees 
sparsely set, and the branches above moving slightly to the 
faint night wind now obliterated the stars and now let them 
p>eep through. 
How long she had been crouching thus she could not tell, 
when something reached her, rousing her from her half-dazed 
state as a person is roused from sleep. 
It was the smell of burning wood. 
One of the results of living in the jungle ;is Chaya had 
lived, is the power to translate the messages that sounds, 
sights and smells bring one, from the language of the jungle 
into the language of human thought or into thought pictures. 
The smell of burning instantly produced in Chaya' s mind 
the picture of a camp fire. 
She sprang erect, and then slowly turned with head half 
cast up testing the air in every direction. You could have 
noticed that she did not " sniff " the wind, she breathed quite 
naturally and then, assured of the fact that a fire was lighted 
somewhere about and that the scent of the burning wood was 
coming on the light breeze, she picked up her bundles and 
came along the path in the direction she had been going before 
Terror and the darkness had overcome her. 
Arrived at dividing ways she chose the one that led most 
nearly in the direction of the ([uarter the wind had come from, 
and then at a point where it split she was rewarded. 
Away down the left hand path she saw the glow of the 
fire. 
She instantly hailed it and at once came Hull's answer. 
She rephed and came along clutching the bundles tightly, 
walking swiftly, scarcely breathing, laughing to herself with 
joy- 
Why its a gal," said Hull. 
" She's got our bundles," said Tillman. 
Chaya advanced straight into the firelight, so that the 
red glow lit her to the waist ; she did not seem to see 
Hull or Tillman, she dropped the bundles one after the other 
Und still, without speaking, and with her wide dark eyes fixed 
on Houghton, held out both hands to him. 
" You ! " said Houghton taking her hands in his. He 
could say nothing more for a moment and the others stood 
by waiting whilst in the stillness, against the far murmur of 
the forest, could be heard the faint crackling and flickering 
of the fire. 
" I followed" said Chaya, " fearing the man would leave 
you to be lost. Then 1 lost myself looking for you." 
She explained, pointing to the bundles as Houghton 
released her hands, and then they began to understand the 
bitter truth that this joyful vision was a prisoner like them- 
selves, a butterfly that had managed to get imprisoned with 
common flies in this huge vegetable fly trap. 
But she had brought the bundles and pushed starvation 
away from them, they were saved for the time being, and as 
for water, they could never actually die of thirst whilst they 
had the succulent fruit of the prickly pear, to say nothing of 
pitcher plants which they had noticed yesterday attached to 
some of the lianas that hung between the sparsely set tree 
boles of the paths. 
They sat down, Chaya and Houghton rather apart from 
the others, and Hull, putting some more sticks on the fire, 
opened his bundle and produced some food. The Captain had 
become quite cheerful again. It was indicative of his mind 
that he did not seem in the least interested in Chaya or the 
problem of how and why she had followed them. The bundle 
and its contents filled all his thoughts. 
" Well," said he, " I never did think I'd have set my 
teeth in a piece of beef again. Thems as likes prickly pears 
may eat 'em. I can't get on with garbidge, no how. They 
tell me there's chaps that lives on green stuff like rab.bits and 
enjoys it, chaps with money enough to buy beefsteaks. I'm 
not beyond likin' a good cabbidge in its place, but it has to 
be in its place, and that's a long way behind a piece of steak. 
Lord love me ! I'd give half my share of that there cache 
for a steak and taters and onions now and a cup of corfee." 
" Well, you're not Hkely to get it." said Tillman, who 
was also engaged on the contents of liis bundle. " If you 
even smell a beefsteak again you'll be lucky — you're not eat- 
ing, Houghton." 
" I'm not hungry," said Houghton. 
He was sitting so close to Chaya that their arms touched, 
and he had just captured her hand which was Ijdng on the 
ground beside him as if waiting to be captured. 
He felt the firm palm and then he felt the fingers close 
upon his thumb, the most delightful embrace in the whole 
world. 
He knew that she had followed him all that day and that 
she had risked her own safety by entering the maze in an 
attempt to save him. He knew that she was lost now just as 
he was, and that. Death was literally standing over them. 
The thought did not trouble him, or troubled him just as 
little' as it troubled her. Love is so tremendous a power that 
Death, unless it means separation, has no force of way against 
it. It becomes the httle thing that it really is just as that 
inflated phantom, the centipede, becomes withered leaves under 
a destructive blow. 
(To b€ continued.) ■ 
Nearly all the new gowns are being made with remarkably 
severe bodices, there being a' great leaning towards those 
planned on very tailor-made lines. Little coat-bodices 
fitting closely into the waist, with a breast pocket and military 
froggings across the front already have a great following, and 
look specially well made in silk faille. 
A new idea is the short full dress raised a couple of inches 
or so to show an equally full lace petticoat. Many afternoon 
gowns of black taffetas are being made in this way, the 
petticoat beneath being of a rather fine meshed lace of the 
Chantilly persuasion. 
Odd skirts for the country are being made in black and 
white checks of enormous dimensions. There is nothing of 
the modest proportions of a Shepherd's plaid about these 
materials, the designs are as large as they well can be, and 
it is only the very slim and well-proportioned who can success 
fullv wear them. 
