It was a restless day in the African Kamerun. Elephants had passed. The apes fidgeted in the trees. Along came a hunter. Through the leaves he sighted a sleek black form. Game. He shot. A screech, not animal, and out of the branches flopped a Negress, dead, naked, devoid of tribal tattoos. Apparently apes had reared her from infancy. Clumsily she had learned to climb, to sleep hammock-wise across two stout branches, to eat fruits, to jabber, to live their life.
The report of the incident, made last week by a Kamerun plantation...
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