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 of helpfulness she manifested in the ofttimes painful labor of gathering and arranging the thorn bushes which constituted the temporary protection against roaming carnivora. Her hands and arms gave bloody token of the sharpness of the numerous points that had lacerated her soft flesh, and even though she were an enemy, Tarzan could not but feel compunction that he had permitted her to do this work and at last he bade her stop.

"Why?" she asked, "it is no more painful to me than it must be to you and, as it is solely for my protection that you are building this boma, there is no reason why I should not do my share."

"You are a woman," replied Tarzan. "This is not a woman's work. If you wish to do something, take those gourds I brought this morning and fill them with water at the river. You may need it while I am away."

";While you are away" she said, "you are going away?"

"When the boma is built I am going out after meat," he replied. "Tomorrow I will go again and take you and show you how you may make your own kills after I am gone."

Without a word she took the gourds and walked toward the river. As she filled them her mind was occupied with painful forebodings of the future. She knew that Tarzan had passed a death sentence upon her, and that the moment that he left her, her doom was sealed for it could be but a question of time—a very short time—before the grim jungle would