Chapter XIII
His Own Kind
The following morning, Tarzan, lame and sore from the wounds of hisbattle with Terkoz, set out toward the west and the seacoast.
He traveled very slowly, sleeping in the jungle at night, and reachinghis cabin late the following morning.
For several days he moved about but little, only enough to gather whatfruits and nuts he required to satisfy the demands of hunger.
In ten days he was quite sound again, except for a terrible,half-healed scar, which, starting above his left eye ran across the topof his head, ending at the right ear. It was the mark left by Terkozwhen he had torn the scalp away.
During his convalescence Tarzan tried to fashion a mantle from the skinof Sabor, which had lain all this time in the cabin. But he found thehide had dried as stiff as a board, and as he knew naught of tanning,he was forced to abandon his cherished plan.
Then he determined to filch what few garments he could from one of theblack men of Mbonga's village, for Tarzan of the Apes had decided tomark his evolution from the lower orders in every possible manner, andnothing seemed to him a more distinguishing badge of manhood thanornaments and clothing.
To this end, therefore, he collected the various arm and leg ornamentshe had taken from the black warriors who had succumbed to his swift andsilent noose, and donned them all after the way he had seen them worn.
About his neck hung the golden chain from which depended the diamondencrusted locket of his mother, the Lady Alice. At his back was aquiver of arrows slung from a leathern shoulder belt, another piece ofloot from some vanquished black.
About his waist was a belt of tiny strips of rawhide fashioned byhimself as a support for the home-made scabbard in which hung hisfather's hunting knife. The long bow which had been Kulonga's hungover his left shoulder.
The young Lord Greystoke was indeed a strange and war-like figure, hismass of black hair falling to his shoulders behind and cut with hishunting knife to a rude bang upon his forehead, that it might not fallbefore his eyes.
His straight and perfect figure, muscled as the best of the ancientRoman gladiators must have been muscled, and yet with the soft andsinuous curves of a Greek god, told at a glance the wondrouscombination of enormous strength with suppleness and speed.
A personification, was Tarzan of the Apes, of the primitive man, thehunter, the warrior.
With the noble poise of his handsome head upon those broad shoulders,and the fire of life and intelligence in those fine, clear eyes, hemight readily have typified some demigod of a wild and warlike bygonepeople of his ancient forest.
But of these things Tarzan did not think. He was worried because hehad not clothing to indicate to all the jungle folks that he was a manand not an ape, and grave doubt often entered his mind as to whether hemight not yet become an ape.
Was not hair commencing to grow upon his face? All the apes had hairupon theirs but the black men were entirely hairless, with very fewexceptions.
True, he had seen pictures in his books of men with great masses ofhair upon lip and cheek and chin, but, nevertheless, Tarzan was afraid.Almost daily he whetted his keen knife and scraped and whittled at hisyoung beard to eradicate this degrading emblem of apehood.
And so he learned to shave--rudely and painfully, it is true--but,nevertheless, effectively.
When he felt quite strong again, after his bloody battle with Terkoz,Tarzan set off one morning towards Mbonga's village. He was movingcarelessly along a winding jungle trail, instead of making his progressthrough the trees, when suddenly he came face to face with a blackwarrior.
The look of surprise on the savage face was almost comical, and beforeTarzan could unsling his bow the fellow had turned and fled down thepath crying out in alarm as though to others before him.
Tarzan took to the trees in pursuit, and in a few moments came in viewof the men desperately striving to escape.
There were three of them, and they were racing madly in single filethrough the dense undergrowth.
Tarzan easily distanced them, nor did they see his silent passage abovetheir heads, nor note the crouching figure squatted upon a low branchahead of them beneath which the trail led them.
Tarzan let the first two pass beneath him, but as the third cameswiftly on, the quiet noose dropped about the black throat. A quickjerk drew it taut.
There was an agonized scream from the victim, and his fellows turned tosee his struggling body rise as by magic slowly into the dense foliageof the trees above.
With frightened shrieks they wheeled once more and plunged on in theirefforts to escape.
Tarzan dispatched his prisoner quickly and silently; removed theweapons and ornaments, and--oh, the greatest joy of all--a handsomedeerskin breechcloth, which he quickly transferred to his own person.
Now indeed was he dressed as a man should be. None there was who couldnow doubt his high origin. How he should have liked to have returnedto the tribe to parade before their envious gaze this wondrous finery.
Taking the body across his shoulder, he moved more slowly through thetrees toward the little palisaded village, for he again needed arrows.
As he approached quite close to the enclosure he saw an excited groupsurrounding the two fugitives, who, trembling with fright andexhaustion, were scarce able to recount the uncanny details of theiradventure.
Mirando, they said, who had been ahead of them a short distance, hadsuddenly come screaming toward them, crying that a terrible white andnaked warrior was pursuing him. The three of them had hurried towardthe village as rapidly as their legs would carry them.
Again Mirando's shrill cry of mortal terror had caused them to lookback, and there they had seen the most horrible sight--theircompanion's body flying upwards into the trees, his arms and legsbeating the air and his tongue protruding from his open mouth. Noother sound did he utter nor was there any creature in sight about him.
The villagers were worked up into a state of fear bordering on panic,but wise old Mbonga affected to feel considerable skepticism regardingthe tale, and attributed the whole fabrication to their fright in theface of some real danger.
”You tell us this great story,” he said, ”because you do not dare tospeak the truth. You do not dare admit that when the lion sprang uponMirando you ran away and left him. You are cowards.”
Scarcely had Mbonga ceased speaking when a great crashing of branchesin the trees above them caused the blacks to look up in renewed terror.The sight that met their eyes made even wise old Mbonga shudder, forthere, turning and twisting in the air, came the dead body of Mirando,to sprawl with a sickening reverberation upon the ground at their feet.
With one accord the blacks took to their heels; nor did they stop untilthe last of them was lost in the dense shadows of the surroundingjungle.
Again Tarzan came down into the village and renewed his supply ofarrows and ate of the offering of food which the blacks had made toappease his wrath.
Before he left he carried the body of Mirando to the gate of thevillage, and propped it up against the palisade in such a way that thedead face seemed to be peering around the edge of the gatepost down thepath which led to the jungle.
Then Tarzan returned, hunting, always hunting, to the cabin by thebeach.
It took a dozen attempts on the part of the thoroughly frightenedblacks to reenter their village, past the horrible, grinning face oftheir dead fellow, and when they found the food and arrows gone theyknew, what they had only too well feared, that Mirando had seen theevil spirit of the jungle.
That now seemed to them the logical explanation. Only those who sawthis terrible god of the jungle died; for was it not true that noneleft alive in the village had ever seen him? Therefore, those who haddied at his hands must have seen him and paid the penalty with theirlives.
As long as they supplied him with arrows and food he would not harmthem unless they looked upon him, so it was ordered by Mbonga that inaddition to the food offering there should also be laid out an offeringof arrows for this Munan-go-Keewati, and this was done from then on.
If you ever chance to pass that far off African village you will stillsee before a tiny thatched hut, built just without the village, alittle iron pot in which is a quantity of food, and beside it a quiverof well-daubed arrows.
When Tarzan came in sight of the beach where stood his cabin, a strangeand unusual spectacle met his vision.
On the placid waters of the landlocked harbor floated a great ship, andon the beach a small boat was drawn up.
But, most wonderful of all, a number of white men like himself weremoving about between the beach and his cabin.
Tarzan saw that in many ways they were like the men of his picturebooks. He crept closer through the trees until he was quite closeabove them.
There were ten men, swarthy, sun-tanned, villainous looking fellows.Now they had congregated by the boat and were talking in loud, angrytones, with much gesticulating and shaking of fists.
Presently one of them, a little, mean-faced, black-bearded fellow witha countenance which reminded Tarzan of Pamba, the rat, laid his handupon the shoulder of a giant who stood next him, and with whom all theothers had been arguing and quarreling.
The little man pointed inland, so that the giant was forced to turnaway from the others to look in the direction indicated. As he turned,the little, mean-faced man drew a revolver from his belt and shot thegiant in the back.
The big fellow threw his hands above his head, his knees bent beneathhim, and without a sound he tumbled forward upon the beach, dead.
The report of the weapon, the first that Tarzan had ever heard, filledhim with wonderment, but even this unaccustomed sound could not startlehis healthy nerves into even a semblance of panic.
The conduct of the white strangers it was that caused him the greatestperturbation. He puckered his brows into a frown of deep thought. Itwas well, thought he, that he had not given way to his first impulse torush forward and greet these white men as brothers.
They were evidently no different from the black men--no more civilizedthan the apes--no less cruel than Sabor.
For a moment the others stood looking at the little, mean-faced man andthe giant lying dead upon the beach.
Then one of them laughed and slapped the little man upon the back.There was much more talk and gesticulating, but less quarreling.
Presently they launched the boat and all jumped into it and rowed awaytoward the great ship, where Tarzan could see other figures movingabout upon the deck.
When they had clambered aboard, Tarzan dropped to earth behind a greattree and crept to his cabin, keeping it always between himself and theship.
Slipping in at the door he found that everything had been ransacked.His books and pencils strewed the floor. His weapons and shields andother little store of treasures were littered about.
As he saw what had been done a great wave of anger surged through him,and the new made scar upon his forehead stood suddenly out, a bar ofinflamed crimson against his tawny hide.
Quickly he ran to the cupboard and searched in the far recess of thelower shelf. Ah! He breathed a sigh of relief as he drew out thelittle tin box, and, opening it, found his greatest treasuresundisturbed.
The photograph of the smiling, strong-faced young man, and the littleblack puzzle book were safe.
What was that?
His quick ear had caught a faint but unfamiliar sound.
Running to the window Tarzan looked toward the harbor, and there he sawthat a boat was being lowered from the great ship beside the onealready in the water. Soon he saw many people clambering over thesides of the larger vessel and dropping into the boats. They werecoming back in full force.
For a moment longer Tarzan watched while a number of boxes and bundleswere lowered into the waiting boats, then, as they shoved off from theship's side, the ape-man snatched up a piece of paper, and with apencil printed on it for a few moments until it bore several lines ofstrong, well-made, almost letter-perfect characters.
This notice he stuck upon the door with a small sharp splinter of wood.Then gathering up his precious tin box, his arrows, and as many bowsand spears as he could carry, he hastened through the door anddisappeared into the forest.
When the two boats were beached upon the silvery sand it was a strangeassortment of humanity that clambered ashore.
Some twenty souls in all there were, fifteen of them rough andvillainous appearing seamen.
The others of the party were of different stamp.
One was an elderly man, with white hair and large rimmed spectacles.His slightly stooped shoulders were draped in an ill-fitting, thoughimmaculate, frock coat, and a shiny silk hat added to the incongruityof his garb in an African jungle.
The second member of the party to land was a tall young man in whiteducks, while directly behind came another elderly man with a very highforehead and a fussy, excitable manner.
After these came a huge Negress clothed like Solomon as to colors. Hergreat eyes rolled in evident terror, first toward the jungle and thentoward the cursing band of sailors who were removing the bales andboxes from the boats.
The last member of the party to disembark was a girl of about nineteen,and it was the young man who stood at the boat's prow to lift her highand dry upon land. She gave him a brave and pretty smile of thanks,but no words passed between them.
In silence the party advanced toward the cabin. It was evident thatwhatever their intentions, all had been decided upon before they leftthe ship; and so they came to the door, the sailors carrying the boxesand bales, followed by the five who were of so different a class. Themen put down their burdens, and then one caught sight of the noticewhich Tarzan had posted.
”Ho, mates!” he cried. ”What's here? This sign was not posted an hourago or I'll eat the cook.”
The others gathered about, craning their necks over the shoulders ofthose before them, but as few of them could read at all, and then onlyafter the most laborious fashion, one finally turned to the little oldman of the top hat and frock coat.
”Hi, perfesser,” he called, ”step for'rd and read the bloomin' notis.”
Thus addressed, the old man came slowly to where the sailors stood,followed by the other members of his party. Adjusting his spectacleshe looked for a moment at the placard and then, turning away, strolledoff muttering to himself: ”Most remarkable--most remarkable!”
”Hi, old fossil,” cried the man who had first called on him forassistance, ”did je think we wanted of you to read the bloomin' notisto yourself? Come back here and read it out loud, you old barnacle.”
The old man stopped and, turning back, said: ”Oh, yes, my dear sir, athousand pardons. It was quite thoughtless of me, yes--verythoughtless. Most remarkable--most remarkable!”
Again he faced the notice and read it through, and doubtless would haveturned off again to ruminate upon it had not the sailor grasped himroughly by the collar and howled into his ear.
”Read it out loud, you blithering old idiot.”
”Ah, yes indeed, yes indeed,” replied the professor softly, andadjusting his spectacles once more he read aloud:
THIS IS THE HOUSE OF TARZAN, THE KILLER OF BEASTS AND MANY BLACK MEN. DO NOT HARM THE THINGS WHICH ARE TARZAN'S. TARZAN WATCHES. TARZAN OF THE APES.
”Who the devil is Tarzan?” cried the sailor who had before spoken.
”He evidently speaks English,” said the young man.
”But what does 'Tarzan of the Apes' mean?” cried the girl.
”I do not know, Miss Porter,” replied the young man, ”unless we havediscovered a runaway simian from the London Zoo who has brought back aEuropean education to his jungle home. What do you make of it,Professor Porter?” he added, turning to the old man.
Professor Archimedes Q. Porter adjusted his spectacles.
”Ah, yes, indeed; yes indeed--most remarkable, most remarkable!” saidthe professor; ”but I can add nothing further to what I have alreadyremarked in elucidation of this truly momentous occurrence,” and theprofessor turned slowly in the direction of the jungle.
”But, papa,” cried the girl, ”you haven't said anything about it yet.”
”Tut, tut, child; tut, tut,” responded Professor Porter, in a kindlyand indulgent tone, ”do not trouble your pretty head with such weightyand abstruse problems,” and again he wandered slowly off in stillanother direction, his eyes bent upon the ground at his feet, his handsclasped behind him beneath the flowing tails of his coat.
”I reckon the daffy old bounder don't know no more'n we do about it,”growled the rat-faced sailor.
”Keep a civil tongue in your head,” cried the young man, his facepaling in anger, at the insulting tone of the sailor. ”You've murderedour officers and robbed us. We are absolutely in your power, butyou'll treat Professor Porter and Miss Porter with respect or I'llbreak that vile neck of yours with my bare hands--guns or no guns,” andthe young fellow stepped so close to the rat-faced sailor that thelatter, though he bore two revolvers and a villainous looking knife inhis belt, slunk back abashed.
”You damned coward,” cried the young man. ”You'd never dare shoot aman until his back was turned. You don't dare shoot me even then,” andhe deliberately turned his back full upon the sailor and walkednonchalantly away as if to put him to the test.
The sailor's hand crept slyly to the butt of one of his revolvers; hiswicked eyes glared vengefully at the retreating form of the youngEnglishman. The gaze of his fellows was upon him, but still hehesitated. At heart he was even a greater coward than Mr. WilliamCecil Clayton had imagined.
Two keen eyes had watched every move of the party from the foliage of anearby tree. Tarzan had seen the surprise caused by his notice, andwhile he could understand nothing of the spoken language of thesestrange people their gestures and facial expressions told him much.
The act of the little rat-faced sailor in killing one of his comradeshad aroused a strong dislike in Tarzan, and now that he saw himquarreling with the fine-looking young man his animosity was stillfurther stirred.
Tarzan had never seen the effects of a firearm before, though his bookshad taught him something of them, but when he saw the rat-faced onefingering the butt of his revolver he thought of the scene he hadwitnessed so short a time before, and naturally expected to see theyoung man murdered as had been the huge sailor earlier in the day.
So Tarzan fitted a poisoned arrow to his bow and drew a bead upon therat-faced sailor, but the foliage was so thick that he soon saw thearrow would be deflected by the leaves or some small branch, andinstead he launched a heavy spear from his lofty perch.
Clayton had taken but a dozen steps. The rat-faced sailor had halfdrawn his revolver; the other sailors stood watching the scene intently.
Professor Porter had already disappeared into the jungle, whither hewas being followed by the fussy Samuel T. Philander, his secretary andassistant.
Esmeralda, the Negress, was busy sorting her mistress' baggage from thepile of bales and boxes beside the cabin, and Miss Porter had turnedaway to follow Clayton, when something caused her to turn again towardthe sailor.
And then three things happened almost simultaneously. The sailorjerked out his weapon and leveled it at Clayton's back, Miss Porterscreamed a warning, and a long, metal-shod spear shot like a bolt fromabove and passed entirely through the right shoulder of the rat-facedman.
The revolver exploded harmlessly in the air, and the seaman crumpled upwith a scream of pain and terror.
Clayton turned and rushed back toward the scene. The sailors stood ina frightened group, with drawn weapons, peering into the jungle. Thewounded man writhed and shrieked upon the ground.
Clayton, unseen by any, picked up the fallen revolver and slipped itinside his shirt, then he joined the sailors in gazing, mystified, intothe jungle.
”Who could it have been?” whispered Jane Porter, and the young manturned to see her standing, wide-eyed and wondering, close beside him.
”I dare say Tarzan of the Apes is watching us all right,” he answered,in a dubious tone. ”I wonder, now, who that spear was intended for.If for Snipes, then our ape friend is a friend indeed.
”By jove, where are your father and Mr. Philander? There's someone orsomething in that jungle, and it's armed, whatever it is. Ho!Professor! Mr. Philander!” young Clayton shouted. There was noresponse.
”What's to be done, Miss Porter?” continued the young man, his faceclouded by a frown of worry and indecision.
”I can't leave you here alone with these cutthroats, and you certainlycan't venture into the jungle with me; yet someone must go in search ofyour father. He is more than apt to wandering off aimlessly,regardless of danger or direction, and Mr. Philander is only a trifleless impractical than he. You will pardon my bluntness, but our livesare all in jeopardy here, and when we get your father back somethingmust be done to impress upon him the dangers to which he exposes you aswell as himself by his absent-mindedness.”
”I quite agree with you,” replied the girl, ”and I am not offended atall. Dear old papa would sacrifice his life for me without aninstant's hesitation, provided one could keep his mind on so frivolousa matter for an entire instant. There is only one way to keep him insafety, and that is to chain him to a tree. The poor dear is SOimpractical.”
”I have it!” suddenly exclaimed Clayton. ”You can use a revolver,can't you?”
”Yes. Why?”
”I have one. With it you and Esmeralda will be comparatively safe inthis cabin while I am searching for your father and Mr. Philander.Come, call the woman and I will hurry on. They can't have gone far.”
Jane did as he suggested and when he saw the door close safely behindthem Clayton turned toward the jungle.
Some of the sailors were drawing the spear from their wounded comradeand, as Clayton approached, he asked if he could borrow a revolver fromone of them while he searched the jungle for the professor.
The rat-faced one, finding he was not dead, had regained his composure,and with a volley of oaths directed at Clayton refused in the name ofhis fellows to allow the young man any firearms.
This man, Snipes, had assumed the role of chief since he had killedtheir former leader, and so little time had elapsed that none of hiscompanions had as yet questioned his authority.
Clayton's only response was a shrug of the shoulders, but as he leftthem he picked up the spear which had transfixed Snipes, and thusprimitively armed, the son of the then Lord Greystoke strode into thedense jungle.
Every few moments he called aloud the names of the wanderers. Thewatchers in the cabin by the beach heard the sound of his voice growingever fainter and fainter, until at last it was swallowed up by themyriad noises of the primeval wood.
When Professor Archimedes Q. Porter and his assistant, Samuel T.Philander, after much insistence on the part of the latter, had finallyturned their steps toward camp, they were as completely lost in thewild and tangled labyrinth of the matted jungle as two human beingswell could be, though they did not know it.
It was by the merest caprice of fortune that they headed toward thewest coast of Africa, instead of toward Zanzibar on the opposite sideof the dark continent.
When in a short time they reached the beach, only to find no camp insight, Philander was positive that they were north of their properdestination, while, as a matter of fact they were about two hundredyards south of it.
It never occurred to either of these impractical theorists to callaloud on the chance of attracting their friends' attention. Instead,with all the assurance that deductive reasoning from a wrong premiseinduces in one, Mr. Samuel T. Philander grasped Professor Archimedes Q.Porter firmly by the arm and hurried the weakly protesting oldgentleman off in the direction of Cape Town, fifteen hundred miles tothe south.
When Jane and Esmeralda found themselves safely behind the cabin doorthe Negress's first thought was to barricade the portal from theinside. With this idea in mind she turned to search for some means ofputting it into execution; but her first view of the interior of thecabin brought a shriek of terror to her lips, and like a frightenedchild the huge woman ran to bury her face on her mistress' shoulder.
Jane, turning at the cry, saw the cause of it lying prone upon thefloor before them--the whitened skeleton of a man. A further glancerevealed a second skeleton upon the bed.
”What horrible place are we in?” murmured the awe-struck girl. Butthere was no panic in her fright.
At last, disengaging herself from the frantic clutch of the stillshrieking Esmeralda, Jane crossed the room to look into the littlecradle, knowing what she should see there even before the tiny skeletondisclosed itself in all its pitiful and pathetic frailty.
What an awful tragedy these poor mute bones proclaimed! The girlshuddered at thought of the eventualities which might lie beforeherself and her friends in this ill-fated cabin, the haunt ofmysterious, perhaps hostile, beings.
Quickly, with an impatient stamp of her little foot, she endeavored toshake off the gloomy forebodings, and turning to Esmeralda bade hercease her wailing.
”Stop, Esmeralda, stop it this minute!” she cried. ”You are onlymaking it worse.”
She ended lamely, a little quiver in her own voice as she thought ofthe three men, upon whom she depended for protection, wandering in thedepth of that awful forest.
Soon the girl found that the door was equipped with a heavy wooden barupon the inside, and after several efforts the combined strength of thetwo enabled them to slip it into place, the first time in twenty years.
Then they sat down upon a bench with their arms about one another, andwaited.