The Cave Girl. Edgar Rice Burroughs

enemy as he turned to meet it.

      The creature dodged back, and the blow that would have crushed its skull grazed a hairbreadth from its face.

      Waldo struck no second blow, and the cold sweat sprang to his forehead when he realized how nearly he had come to murdering a young girl. She crouched now in the mouth of the cave, eying him fearfully. Waldo removed his tattered cap, bowing low.

      “I crave your pardon,” he said. “I had no idea that there was a lady here. I am very glad that I did not injure you.” There must have been something either in his tone or manner that reassured her, for she smiled and came out upon the ledge beside him.

      As she did so a scarlet flush mantled Waldo’s face and neck and ears—he could feel them burning. With a nervous cough he turned and became intently occupied with the distant scenery.

      Presently he cast a surreptitious glance behind him.

      Shocking! She was still there. Again he coughed nervously.

      “Excuse me,” he said. “But—er—ah—you—I am a total stranger, you know; hadn’t you better go back in, and—er—get your clothes?” She made no reply, and so he forced himself to turn toward her once more. She was smiling at him.

      Waldo had never been so horribly embarrassed in all his life before—it was a distinct shock to him to realize that the girl was not embarrassed at all.

      He spoke to her a second time, and at last she answered; but in a tongue which he did not understand. It bore not the slightest resemblance to any language, modern or dead, with which he was familiar, and Waldo was more or less master of them all—especially the dead ones.

      He tried not to look at her after that, for he realized that he must appear very ridiculous.

      But now his attention was required by more pressing affairs—the cave men were returning to the attack. They carried stones this time, and, while some of them threw the missiles at Waldo, the others attempted to rush his position. It was then that the girl hurried back into the cave, only to reappear a moment later carrying some stone utensils in her arms.

      There was a huge mortar in which she had collected a pestle and several smaller pieces of stone. She pushed them along the ledge to Waldo.

      At first he did not grasp the meaning of her act; but presently she pretended to pick up an imaginary missile and hurl it down upon the creatures below—then she pointed to the things she had brought and to Waldo.

      He understood. So she was upon his side. He did not understand why, but he was glad.

      Following her suggestion, he gathered up a couple of the smaller objects and hurled them down upon the men beneath.

      But on and on they came—Waldo was not a very good shot. The girl was busy now gathering such of the cave men’s missiles as fell upon the ledge. These she placed in a pile beside Waldo.

      Occasionally the young man would strike an enemy by accident, and then she would give a little scream of pleasure—clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

      It was not long before Waldo was surprised to find that this applause fell sweetly upon his ears. It was then that he began to take better aim.

      In the midst of it there flashed suddenly upon him a picture of his devoted mother and the select coterie of intellectual young people with which she had always surrounded him.

      Waldo felt a new pang of horror as he tried to realize with what emotions they would look upon him now as he stood upon the face of a towering cliff beside an almost naked girl hurling rocks down upon the heads of hairy men who hopped about, screaming with rage, below him.

      It was awful! A great billow of mortification rolled over him.

      He turned to cast a look of disapprobation at the shameless young woman behind him—she should not think that he countenanced such coarse and vulgar proceedings. Their eyes met—in hers he saw the sparkle of excitement and the joy of life and such a look of comradeship as he never before had seen in the eyes of another mortal.

      Then she pointed excitedly over the edge of the ledge.

      Waldo looked. A great brute of a cave man had crawled, unseen, almost to their refuge.

      He was but five feet below them, and at the moment that he looked up Waldo dropped a fifty-pound stone mortar full upon his upturned face.

      The young woman emitted a little shriek of joy, and Waldo Emerson Smith-Jones, his face bisected by a broad grin, turned toward her.