quite forgot to throw aside the author of that fearful noise,

but bolted for the door with it tightly clutched in one hand.

As he passed through the opening, the front sight of the

rifle caught upon the edge of the inswung door with sufficient

force to close it tightly after the fleeing ape.

When Kerchak came to a halt a short distance from the cabin

and discovered that he still held the rifle, he dropped it

as he might have dropped a red hot iron, nor did he again

attempt to recover it--the noise was too much for his brute

nerves; but he was now quite convinced that the terrible stick

was quite harmless by itself if left alone.

It was an hour before the apes could again bring themselves

to approach the cabin to continue their investigations,

and when they finally did so, they found to their chagrin that

the door was closed and so securely fastened that they could

not force it.

The cleverly constructed latch which Clayton had made for

the door had sprung as Kerchak passed out; nor could the

apes find means of ingress through the heavily barred windows.

After roaming about the vicinity for a short time, they

started back for the deeper forests and the higher land from

whence they had come.

Kala had not once come to earth with her little adopted

babe, but now Kerchak called to her to descend with the rest,

and as there was no note of anger in his voice she dropped

lightly from branch to branch and joined the others on their

homeward march.

Those of the apes who attempted to examine Kala's

strange baby were repulsed with bared fangs and low

menacing growls, accompanied by words of warning from Kala.

When they assured her that they meant the child no harm

she permitted them to come close, but would not allow them

to touch her charge.

It was as though she knew that her baby was frail and delicate

and feared lest the rough hands of her fellows might injure