Scarcely had the Ithaca cleared the reef which liesalmost across the mouth of the little harbor where shehad been moored for so many months than the tempestbroke upon her in all its terrific fury. Bududreen wasno mean sailor, but he was short handed, nor is itreasonable to suppose that even with a full crew hecould have weathered the terrific gale which beat downupon the hapless vessel. Buffeted by great waves, andstripped of every shred of canvas by the force of themighty wind that howled about her, the Ithaca drifteda hopeless wreck soon after the storm struck her.

Below deck the terrified girl clung desperately toa stanchion as the stricken ship lunged sickeninglybefore the hurricane. For half an hour the awfulsuspense endured, and then with a terrific crash thevessel struck, shivering and trembling from stem to stern.

Virginia Maxon sank to her knees in prayer, for thisshe thought must surely be the end. On deck Bududreenand his crew had lashed themselves to the masts, and asthe Ithaca struck the reef before the harbor, back uponwhich she had been driven, the tall poles with theirliving freight snapped at the deck and went overboardcarrying every thing with them amid shrieks and criesof terror that were drowned and choked by the wildtumult of the night.

Twice the girl felt the ship strike upon the reef, thena great wave caught and carried her high into the air,dropping her with a nauseating lunge which seemed tothe imprisoned girl to be carrying the ship to the verybottom of the ocean. With closed eyes she clung insilent prayer beside her berth waiting for the momentthat would bring the engulfing waters and oblivion--praying that the end might come speedily and releaseher from the torture of nervous apprehension that hadterrorized her for what seemed an eternity.

After the last, long dive the Ithaca righted herselflaboriously, wallowing drunkenly, but apparently uponan even keel in less turbulent waters. One long minutedragged after another, yet no suffocating deluge pouredin upon the girl, and presently she realized that theship had, at least temporarily, weathered the awfulbuffeting of the savage elements. Now she felt but agentle roll, though the wild turmoil of the storm stillcame to her ears through the heavy planking of theIthaca's hull.

For a long hour she lay wondering what fate hadovertaken the vessel and whither she had been driven,and then, with a gentle grinding sound, the shipstopped, swung around, and finally came to rest with aslight list to starboard. The wind howled about her,the torrential rain beat loudly upon her, but exceptfor a slight rocking the ship lay quiet.

Hours passed with no other sounds than those of therapidly waning tempest. The girl heard no signs oflife upon the ship. Her curiosity became more and morekeenly aroused. She had that indefinable, intuitivefeeling that she was utterly alone upon the vessel,and at length, unable to endure the inaction anduncertainty longer, made her way to the companionladder where for half an hour she futilely attemptedto remove the hatch.

As she worked she failed to hear the scraping of nakedbodies clambering over the ship's side, or the paddingof unshod feet upon the deck above her. She was aboutto give up her work at the hatch when the heavy woodencover suddenly commenced to move above her as thoughactuated by some supernatural power. Fascinated, thegirl stood gazing in wide-eyed astonishment as one endof the hatch rose higher and higher until a littlepatch of blue sky revealed the fact that morning hadcome. Then the cover slid suddenly back and VirginiaMaxon found herself looking into a savage and terrible face.

The dark skin was creased in fierce wrinkles about theeyes and mouth. Gleaming tiger cat's teeth curvedupward from holes pierced to receive them in the upperhalf of each ear. The slit ear lobes supported heavyrings whose weight had stretched the skin until thelong loop rested upon the brown shoulders. The filedand blackened teeth behind the loose lips added thelast touch of hideousness to this terrible countenance.

Nor was this all. A score of equally ferocious facespeered down from behind the foremost. With a littlescream Virginia Maxon sprang back to the lower deck andran toward her stateroom. Behind her she heard thecommotion of many men descending the companionway.

As Number Thirteen came into the campong after quittingthe bungalow his heart was a chaos of conflictingemotions. His little world had been wiped out.His creator--the man whom he thought his only friendand benefactor--had suddenly turned against him.The beautiful creature he worshipped was either lostor dead; Sing had said so. He was nothing buta miserable THING. There was no place in the world for him,and even should he again find Virginia Maxon, he hadvon Horn's word for it that she would shrink from himand loathe him even more than another.

With no plans and no hopes he walked aimlessly throughthe blinding rain, oblivious of it and of the vividlightning and deafening thunder. The palisade atlength brought him to a sudden stop. Mechanically hesquatted on his haunches with his back against it,and there, in the midst of the fury of the storm heconquered the tempest that raged in his own breast.The murder that rose again and again in his untaughtheart he forced back by thoughts of the sweet, pureface of the girl whose image he had set up in the innertemple of his being, as a gentle, guiding divinity.

"He made me without a soul," he repeated over and overagain to himself, "but I have found a soul--she shallbe my soul. Von Horn could not explain to me what asoul is. He does not know. None of them knows. I amwiser than all the rest, for I have learned what a soul is.Eyes cannot see it--fingers cannot feel it, but he who possessit knows that it is there for it fills his whole breastwith a great, wonderful love and worship for somethinginfinitely finer than man's dull senses can gauge--something that guides him into paths far above the plainof soulless beasts and bestial men.

"Let those who will say that I have no soul, for I amsatisfied with the soul I have found. It would neverpermit me to inflict on others the terrible wrong thatProfessor Maxon has inflicted on me--yet he neverdoubts his own possession of a soul. It would notallow me to revel in the coarse brutalities of vonHorn--and I am sure that von Horn thinks he has a soul.And if the savage men who came tonight to kill havesouls, then I am glad that my soul is after my ownchoosing--I would not care for one like theirs."

The sudden equatorial dawn found the man still musing.The storm had ceased and as the daylight brought thesurroundings to view Number Thirteen became aware thathe was not alone in the campong. All about him lay theeleven terrible men whom he had driven from the bungalowthe previous night. The sight of them brought arealization of new responsibilities. To leave themhere in the campong would mean the immediate death ofProfessor Maxon and the Chinaman. To turn them intothe jungle might mean a similar fate for Virginia Maxonwere she wandering about in search of the encampment--Number Thirteen could not believe that she was dead.It seemed too monstrous to believe that he should neversee her again, and he knew so little of death that itwas impossible for him to realize that that beautifulcreature ever could cease to be filled with thevivacity of life.

The young man had determined to leave the camp himself--partly on account of the cruel words Professor Maxonhad hurled at him the night before, but principally inorder that he might search for the lost girl.Of course he had not the remotest idea where to lookfor her, but as von Horn had explained that they wereupon a small island he felt reasonably sure that he shouldfind her in time.

As he looked at the sleeping monsters near him hedetermined that the only solution of his problem was totake them all with him. Number Twelve lay closestto him, and stepping to his side he nudged him withthe butt of the bull whip he still carried.The creature opened his dull eyes.

"Get up," said Number Thirteen.

Number Twelve rose, looking askance at the bull whip.

"We are not wanted here," said Number Thirteen."I am going away and you are all going with me. We shallfind a place where we may live in peace and freedom.Are you not tired of always being penned up?"

"Yes," replied Number Twelve, still looking at the whip.

"You need not fear the whip," said the young man."I shall not use it on those who make no trouble.Wake the others and tell them what I have said.All must come with me--those who refuse shall feel the whip."

Number Twelve did as he was bid. The creatures mumbledamong themselves for a few minutes. Finally NumberThirteen cracked his long whip to attract their attention.

"Come!" he said.

Nine of them shuffled after him as he turned toward theouter gate--only Number Ten and Number Three held back.The young man walked quickly to where they stood eyeinghim sullenly. The others halted to watch--ready tospring upon their new master should the tide of theimpending battle turn against him. The two mutineers backedaway snarling, their hideous features distorted in rage.

"Come!" repeated Number Thirteen.

"We will stay here," growled Number Ten. "We have notyet finished with Maxon."

A loop in the butt of the bull whip was about the youngman's wrist. Dropping the weapon from his hand itstill dangled by the loop. At the same instant helaunched himself at the throat of Number Ten, for herealized that a decisive victory now without the aidof the weapon they all feared would make the balance ofhis work easier.

The brute met the charge with lowered head andoutstretched hands, and in another second they werelocked in a clinch, tearing at one another like twogreat gorillas. For a moment Number Three stoodwatching the battle, and then he too sprang in to aidhis fellow mutineer. Number Thirteen was strikingheavy blows with his giant hands upon the face and headof his antagonist, while the long, uneven fangs of thelatter had found his breast and neck a half dozen times.Blood covered them both. Number Three threw his enormousweight into the conflict with the frenzy of a mad bull.

Again and again he got a hold upon the young giant'sthroat only to be shaken loose by the mighty muscles.The excitement of the conflict was telling upon themalformed minds of the spectators. Presently one whowas almost brainless, acting upon the impulse of suggestion,leaped in among the fighters, striking and biting at Number Thirteen.It was all that was needed--another second found the whole monstrouscrew upon the single man.

His mighty strength availed him but little in theunequal conflict--eleven to one were too great oddseven for those powerful thews. His great advantage layin his superior intelligence, but even this seemedfutile in the face of the enormous weight of numbersthat opposed him. Time and again he had almost shakenhimself free only to fall once more--dragged down byhairy arms about his legs.

Hither and thither about the campong the battle rageduntil the fighting mass rolled against the palisade,and here, at last, with his back to the structure,Number Thirteen regained his feet, and with the heavystock of the bull whip beat off, for a moment, thosenearest him. All were winded, but when those who wereleft of the eleven original antagonists drew back toregain their breath, the young giant gave them no respite,but leaped among them with the long lash they had suchgood reason to hate and fear.

The result was as his higher intelligence had foreseen--the creatures scattered to escape the fury of the lashand a moment later he had them at his mercy. About thecampong lay four who had felt the full force of hisheavy fist, while not one but bore some mark of the battle.

Not a moment did he give them to recuperate after he hadscattered them before he rounded them up once more nearthe outer gate--but now they were docile and submissive.In pairs he ordered them to lift their unconscious comradesto their shoulders and bear them into the jungle,for Number Thirteen was setting out into the worldwith his grim tribe in search of his lady love.

Once well within the jungle they halted to eat of themore familiar fruit which had always formed the greaterbulk of their sustenance. Thus refreshed, they set outonce more after the leader who wandered aimlesslybeneath the shade of the tall jungle trees amidstthe gorgeous tropic blooms and gay, songless birds--and of the twelve only the leader saw the beautiesthat surrounded them or felt the strange, mysteriousinfluence of the untracked world they trod. Chancetook them toward the west until presently they emergedupon the harbor's edge, where from the matted junglethey overlooked for the first time the waters of thelittle bay and the broader expanse of strait beyond,until their eyes rested at last upon the blurred linesof distant Borneo.

From other vantage points at the jungle's border twoother watchers looked out upon the scene. One was thelascar whom von Horn had sent down to the Ithaca thenight before but who had reached the harbor after shesailed. The other was von Horn himself. And both werelooking out upon the dismantled wreck of the Ithacawhere it lay in the sand near the harbor's southern edge.

Neither ventured forth from his place of concealment,for beyond the Ithaca ten prahus were pullinggracefully into the quiet waters of the basin.

Rajah Muda Saffir, caught by the hurricane the precedingnight as he had been about to beat across to Borneo,had scurried for shelter within one of the manytiny coves which indent the island's entire coast.It happened that his haven of refuge was but a shortdistance south of the harbor in which he knew the Ithacato be moored, and in the morning he decided to pay that vessela visit in the hope that he might learn something of advantageabout the girl from one of her lascar crew.

The wily Malay had long refrained from pillaging theIthaca for fear such an act might militate againstthe larger villainy he purposed perpetrating againsther white owner, but when he rounded the point and camein sight of the stranded wreck he put all such thoughtsfrom him and made straight for the helpless hulkto glean whatever of salvage might yet remain withinher battered hull.

The old rascal had little thought of the pricelesstreasure hidden beneath the Ithaca's clean swept deckas he ordered his savage henchmen up her sides while helay back upon his sleeping mat beneath the canopy whichprotected his vice-regal head from the blisteringtropic sun.

Number Thirteen watched the wild head hunters withkeenest interest as they clambered aboard the vessel.With von Horn he saw the evident amazement whichfollowed the opening of the hatch, though neitherguessed its cause. He saw the haste with which a halfdozen of the warriors leaped down the companionway andheard their savage shouts as they pursued their quarrywithin the bowels of the ship.

A few minutes later they emerged dragging a woman withthem. Von Horn and Number Thirteen recognized the girlsimultaneously, but the doctor, though he ground histeeth in futile rage, knew that he was helpless toavert the tragedy. Number Thirteen neither knew norcared.

"Come!" he called to his grotesque horde. "Kill themen and save the girl--the one with the golden hair,"he added as the sudden realization came to him thatnone of these creatures ever had seen a woman before.Then he dashed from the shelter of the jungle, acrossthe beach and into the water, his fearful pack at his heels.

The Ithaca lay now in about five feet of water, and thewar prahus of Muda Saffir rode upon her seaward side,so that those who manned them did not see the twelvewho splashed through the water from land. Never beforehad any of the rescuers seen a larger body of waterthan the little stream which wound through theircampong, but accidents and experiments in that hadtaught them the danger of submerging their heads.They could not swim, but all were large and strong,so that they were able to push their way rapidly throughthe water to the very side of the ship.

Here they found difficulty in reaching the deck,but in a moment Number Thirteen had solved the problemby requiring one of the taller of his crew to stand closein by the ship while the others clambered upon hisshoulders and from there to the Ithaca's deck.

Number Thirteen was the first to pull himself over thevessel's side, and as he did so he saw some half dozenDyaks preparing to quit her upon the opposite side.They were the last of the boarding party--the girl wasnowhere in sight. Without waiting for his men theyoung giant sprang across the deck. His one thoughtwas to find Virginia Maxon.

At the sound of his approach the Dyak turned, and atthe sight of a pajama clad white man armed only witha long whip they emitted savage cries of anticipation,counting the handsome trophy upon the white one'sshoulders as already theirs. Number Thirteen wouldhave paid no attention whatever to them had they notmolested him, for he wished only to reach the girl'sside as quickly as possible; but in another moment hefound himself confronted by a half dozen dancing wildmen, brandishing wicked looking parangs, and cryingtauntingly.

Up went the great bull whip, and without abating hisspeed a particle the man leaped into the midst of thewicked blades that menaced him. Right and left withthe quickness of thought the heavy lash fell upon heads,shoulders and sword arms. There was no chance to wielda blade in the face of that terrific onslaught,for the whip fell, not with the ordinary forceof a man-held lash, but with all the stupendous powerof those giant shoulders and arms behind it.

A single blow felled the foremost head hunter, breakinghis shoulder and biting into the flesh and bone as aheavy sword bites. Again and again the mercilessleather fell, while in the boats below Muda Saffir andhis men shouted loud cries of encouragement to theircompanions on the ship, and a wide-eyed girl in thestern of Muda Saffir's own prahu looked on in terror,hope and admiration at the man of her own race whom shefelt was battling against all these odds for her alone.

Virginia Maxon recognized her champion instantlyas he who had fought for her and saved her once before,from the hideous creature of her father's experiments.With hands tight pressed against her bosom the girlleaned forward, tense with excitement, watching everymove of the lithe, giant figure, as, silhouetted againstthe brazen tropic sky, it towered above the dancing,shrieking head hunters who writhed beneath the awful lash.

Muda Saffir saw that the battle was going against his men,and it filled him with anger. Turning to one of his headmenhe ordered two more boatloads of warriors to the Ithaca's deck.As they were rushing to obey their leader's command there wasa respite in the fighting on the ship, for the threewho had not fallen beneath the bull whip had leaped overboardto escape the fate which had overtaken their comrades.

As the reinforcements started to scale the vessel'sside Number Thirteen's searching eyes found the girl inMuda Saffir's prahu, where it lay a little off from theIthaca, and as the first of the enemy clambered overthe rail she saw a smile of encouragement light theclear cut features of the man above her. Virginia Maxonsent back an answering smile--a smile that filledthe young giant's heart with pride and happiness--such a smile as brave men have been content to fight and die forsince woman first learned the art of smiling.

Number Thirteen could have beaten back many ofthe reinforcing party before they reached the deck,but he did not care to do so. In the spontaneous ethicsof the man there seemed no place for an unfair advantageover an enemy, and added to this was his newly acquiredlove of battle, so he was content to wait until his foesstood on an even footing with him before he engaged them.But they never came within reach of his ready lash.Instead, as they came above the ship's side they paused,wide-eyed and terror stricken, and with cries of fearand consternation dropped precipitately back into the sea,shouting warnings to those who were about to scale the hull.

Muda Saffir arose in his prahu cursing and reviling thefrightened Dyaks. He did not know the cause of their alarm,but presently he saw it behind the giant upon the Ithaca's deck--eleven horrible monstrosities lumbering forward, snarling and growling,to their leader's side.

At the sight his own dark countenance went ashen,and with trembling lips he ordered his oarsmen to pullfor the open sea. The girl, too, saw the frightfulcreatures that surrounded the man upon the deck.She thought that they were about to attack him,and gave a little cry of warning, but in anotherinstant she realized that they were his companions,for with him they rushed to the side of the shipto stand for a moment looking down upon the strugglingDyaks in the water below.

Two prahus lay directly beneath them, and into thesethe head hunters were scrambling. The balance of theflotilla was now making rapid headway under oars and sailtoward the mouth of the harbor, and as Number Thirteensaw that the girl was being borne away from him,he shouted a command to his misshapen crew,and without waiting to see if they would follow himleaped into the nearer of the two boats beneath.

It was already half filled with Dyaks, some of whomwere hastily manning the oars. Others of the headhunters were scrambling over the gunwale. In aninstant pandemonium reigned in the little vessel.Savage warriors sprang toward the tall figure toweringabove them. Parangs flashed. The bull whip hissed andcracked, and then into the midst of it all came ahorrid avalanche of fearful and grotesque monsters--the young giant's crew had followed at his command.

The battle in the prahu was short and fierce. For aninstant the Dyaks attempted to hold their own, but inthe face of the snarling, rending horde that engulfed themterror got the better of them all, so that those who were notovercome dived overboard and swam rapidly toward shore.

The other prahu had not waited to assist its companion,but before it was entirely filled had gotten under wayand was now rapidly overhauling the balance of the fleet.

Von Horn had been an excited witness to all that hadoccurred upon the tranquil bosom of the little harbor.He had been filled with astonishment at sight of theinhabitants of the court of mystery fighting under theleadership of Number Thirteen, and now he watchedinterestedly the outcome of the adventure.

The sight of the girl being borne away in the prahu ofthe Malay rajah to a fate worse than death, had rousedin him both keen regret and savage rage, but it was thelife of ease that he was losing that concerned him most.He had felt so sure of winning Professor Maxon's fortunethrough either a forced or voluntary marriage with the girlthat his feelings now were as of one whose rightful heritagehas been foully wrested from him. The thought ofthe girl's danger and suffering were of but secondaryconsideration to him, for the man was incapable of eitherdeep love or true chivalry.

Quite the contrary were the emotions which urged on thesoulless creature who now found himself in undisputedpossession of a Dyak war prahu. His only thought wasof the girl being rapidly borne away across theglimmering waters of the strait. He knew not to whatdangers she was exposed, or what fate threatened her.All he knew was that she had been taken by forceagainst her will. He had seen the look of terror inher eyes, and the dawning hope die out as the boat thatcarried her had turned rapidly away from the Ithaca.His one thought now was to rescue her from her abductorsand return her to her father. Of his own reward or profithe entertained no single thought--it was enough if he couldfight for her. That would be reward sufficient.

Neither Number Thirteen nor any of his crew had everbefore seen a boat, and outside of the leader there wasscarcely enough brains in the entire party to render itat all likely that they could ever navigate it,but the young man saw that the other prahus werebeing propelled by the long sticks which protruded fromtheir sides, and he also saw the sails bellying with wind,though he had but a vague conception of their purpose.

For a moment he stood watching the actions of the menin the nearest boat, and then he set himself to thetask of placing his own men at the oars and instructingthem in the manner of wielding the unfamiliar implements.For an hour he worked with the brainless thingsthat constituted his party. They could not seemto learn what was required of them. The paddleswere continually fouling one another, or beingmerely dipped into the water and withdrawn withoutthe faintest semblance of a stroke made.

The tiresome maneuvering had carried them about incircles back and forth across the harbor, but by itNumber Thirteen had himself learned something of theproper method of propelling and steering his craft.At last, more through accident than intent, they cameopposite the mouth of the basin, and then chance didfor them what days of arduous endeavor upon their partmight have failed to accomplish.

As they hung wavering in the opening, the broad straitbefore them, and their quarry fast diminishing to smallspecks upon the distant horizon, a vagrant land breezesuddenly bellied the flapping sail. The prahu swungquickly about with nose pointed toward the sea, thesail filled, and the long, narrow craft shot out of theharbor and sped on over the dancing waters in the wakeof her sisters.

On shore behind them the infuriated Dyaks who hadescaped to the beach danced and shrieked; von Horn,from his hiding place, looked on in surprised wonder,and Bududreen's lascar cursed the fate that had left a partyof forty head hunters upon the same small island with him.

Smaller and smaller grew the retreating prahu as,straight as an arrow, she sped toward the dim outlineof verdure clad Borneo.