The Gold of Akada: A Jungle Adventure Novel. John Russell Fearn

to the watching man on the camp bed she added, “Harry. Now what is your name?” and, her eyebrows lifting inquiringly, she tapped the giant’s broad chest.

      “Rita—Harry,” he repeated in a grave, deep voice that had none of the guttural intonation of a native. And, seeming to grasp the point, he added, “Anjani,” and indicated himself.

      “Anjani?” Rita looked interested.

      “It means ‘White God’ in some native tongues,” Harry said from the bed. “Don’t let the fellow go, Rita—there’s something queer about him being here in the jungle.”

      Rita increased her grip on Anjani’s arm and tugged a little. Finally he seemed to understand, and, smiling, moved back into the tent and waited for what might happen next.

      “We must teach him English,” Harry said, relaxing again. “He certainly doesn’t belong in this hell-hole, and I think we ought to find out why. But don’t let him go, Rita—he’s too useful.”

      Rita said nothing. It was just beginning to occur to her that, now her husband was wounded, a new cowardice would be added, strengthening the old, and weakening the man. With Anjani at his right hand, there was nothing to stop him keeping in the background whilst the mysterious white giant faced all the dangers.