The slight deviation
of the boat's direction was sufficient to throw the muzzle of the
rifle out of aim. The bullet whizzed harmlessly by Meriem's head
and an instant later she had disappeared into the foliage of the
tree.
There was a smile on her lips as she dropped to the ground to cross
a little clearing where once had stood a native village surrounded
by its fields. The ruined huts still stood in crumbling decay.
The rank vegetation of the jungle overgrew the cultivated ground.
Small trees already had sprung up in what had been the village
street; but desolation and loneliness hung like a pall above the
scene. To Meriem, however, it presented but a place denuded of
large trees which she must cross quickly to regain the jungle upon
the opposite side before Malbihn should have landed.
The deserted huts were, to her, all the better because they were
deserted--she did not see the keen eyes watching her from a dozen
points, from tumbling doorways, from behind tottering granaries. In
utter unconsciousness of impending danger she started up the village
street because it offered the clearest pathway to the jungle.
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