Avon Fantasy Reader No. 12 — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

|. That night the drums spoke in purring spurts aud taitag mils, bursting sometimes into violent throbbing, and his meu lay awake — whispering. At dawn they pleaded to leave this evil place. Dineen was one white man among a crowd of savages alinost uncontrollable from superstitious fear. He started them placing bird-lime on sticks to lodge in the trees and building cages on tall poles beyond the reach of snakes; then he led them into the jungle to hunt. , That night in camp, while supper was cooking, he sat cleaning off leeches that had penctrated his puttees and laced boots, and decided to open canned peaches for a treat. He pulled the box with his cloth- ing from under the camp bed and groped for the other case. Then Dineen cursed. The case of precious canned food was gone, aud with it the candles aud crucifix packed among the bottles. He did not suspect a thief among his own men; yet around the hut lay his shaving tackle, weapons and ammunition, far more appealing to a native from the village, left undisturbed. He searched further, then called Inbam, who had discovered that a sack of rice was missing also. The sack had been punctured and rice had trickled from the hole as it was carried away. At dawn they saw birds alighting to feed on the rice. Dineen marked their swooping flight toward a shadowy crevasse in the hills. “We'll follow the thief,” he announced. With a few picked men and Inbam he started across the valley » and camped near the hills that night. He was wakened from sleep beside the campfire by a sound that lifted his hair. The light of dying embers showed his men crouching or creeping toward him. Irom the caves of gloom beyond the dim fire-glow came a booming voice like a minor tune played on the bass notes of an ancient organ. No human throat could have emitted its rumbling sonorousness, Inbam touched Dineen’s arm and his teeth chattered as he whispered: “Tuan, the nan of the woods sings a mating-song that I have sung to women. It is a devil!” “Pve heard that damned ditty.” agreed Dincen. Yet fear clawed at his brain. Cold sweat broke from his pores. “It’s that talking ape,” he added. “Yes, Tuan. He is singing to the native girl he stole froin the vil- lage,” said Inbam. There was a restless rustling of tree branches that told of more than one great ape in the vicinity. To Dineen’s increasing horror there caine a gusty burst of profanity in a voice as mighty as that of the singer: “Shut up. ye damned brute, Quit yer singin’ love songs to what the Chinks'll make o’ that poor little native girl that ye stole av dropped in their kampong. Codl I could kill ye for doing that if it wouldn't be so hellish lonesome without yer bad company in my own misery.” 89 comlichooks.con OE