Out rolled furs, many and many of them, black, and yellow, and
striped--the pelts of the grizzly, of the leopard, the chetah, the
royal Bengal himself.

"Hurray!" shouted the man, catching up first one, then another, and
still a third. "Almost intact. A little imperfection here and there
doesn't matter. Now we've got clothes and beds.

"What's that? Yes, maybe they are a trifle warm for this season of the
year, but this is no time to be particular. See, now, how do you like
_that?_"

Over the girl's shoulders, as he spoke, he flung the tiger-skin.

"Magnificent!" he judged, standing back a pace or two and holding up
the torch to see her better. "When I find you a big gold pin or clasp
to fasten that with at the throat you'll make a picture of another and
more splendid Boadicea!"

He tried to laugh at his own words, but merriment sat ill there in
that place, and with such a subject. For the woman, thus clad, had
suddenly assumed a wild, barbaric beauty.

Bright gleamed her gray eyes by the light of the flambeau; limpid, and
deep, and earnest, they looked at Stern. Her wonderful hair, shaken
out in bewildering masses over the striped, tawny savagery of the
robe, made colorful contrasts, barbarous, seductive.

Half hidden, the woman's perfect body, beautiful as that of a
wood-nymph or a pagan dryad, roused atavistic passions in the