Chapter VI
Jungle Battles
The wanderings of the tribe brought them often near the closed andsilent cabin by the little land-locked harbor. To Tarzan this wasalways a source of never-ending mystery and pleasure.
He would peek into the curtained windows, or, climbing upon the roof,peer down the black depths of the chimney in vain endeavor to solve theunknown wonders that lay within those strong walls.
His child-like imagination pictured wonderful creatures within, and thevery impossibility of forcing entrance added a thousandfold to hisdesire to do so.
He could clamber about the roof and windows for hours attempting todiscover means of ingress, but to the door he paid little attention,for this was apparently as solid as the walls.
It was in the next visit to the vicinity, following the adventure withold Sabor, that, as he approached the cabin, Tarzan noticed that from adistance the door appeared to be an independent part of the wall inwhich it was set, and for the first time it occurred to him that thismight prove the means of entrance which had so long eluded him.
He was alone, as was often the case when he visited the cabin, for theapes had no love for it; the story of the thunder-stick having lostnothing in the telling during these ten years had quite surrounded thewhite man's deserted abode with an atmosphere of weirdness and terrorfor the simians.
The story of his own connection with the cabin had never been told him.The language of the apes had so few words that they could talk butlittle of what they had seen in the cabin, having no words toaccurately describe either the strange people or their belongings, andso, long before Tarzan was old enough to understand, the subject hadbeen forgotten by the tribe.
Only in a dim, vague way had Kala explained to him that his father hadbeen a strange white ape, but he did not know that Kala was not his ownmother.
On this day, then, he went directly to the door and spent hoursexamining it and fussing with the hinges, the knob and the latch.Finally he stumbled upon the right combination, and the door swungcreakingly open before his astonished eyes.
For some minutes he did not dare venture within, but finally, as hiseyes became accustomed to the dim light of the interior he slowly andcautiously entered.
In the middle of the floor lay a skeleton, every vestige of flesh gonefrom the bones to which still clung the mildewed and moldered remnantsof what had once been clothing. Upon the bed lay a similar gruesomething, but smaller, while in a tiny cradle near-by was a third, a weemite of a skeleton.
To none of these evidences of a fearful tragedy of a long dead day didlittle Tarzan give but passing heed. His wild jungle life had inuredhim to the sight of dead and dying animals, and had he known that hewas looking upon the remains of his own father and mother he would havebeen no more greatly moved.
The furnishings and other contents of the room it was which riveted hisattention. He examined many things minutely--strange tools andweapons, books, paper, clothing--what little had withstood the ravagesof time in the humid atmosphere of the jungle coast.
He opened chests and cupboards, such as did not baffle his smallexperience, and in these he found the contents much better preserved.
Among other things he found a sharp hunting knife, on the keen blade ofwhich he immediately proceeded to cut his finger. Undaunted hecontinued his experiments, finding that he could hack and hew splintersof wood from the table and chairs with this new toy.
For a long time this amused him, but finally tiring he continued hisexplorations. In a cupboard filled with books he came across one withbrightly colored pictures--it was a child's illustrated alphabet--
A is for Archer Who shoots with a bow. B is for Boy, His first name is Joe.
The pictures interested him greatly.
There were many apes with faces similar to his own, and further over inthe book he found, under ”M,” some little monkeys such as he saw dailyflitting through the trees of his primeval forest. But nowhere waspictured any of his own people; in all the book was none that resembledKerchak, or Tublat, or Kala.
At first he tried to pick the little figures from the leaves, but hesoon saw that they were not real, though he knew not what they mightbe, nor had he any words to describe them.
The boats, and trains, and cows and horses were quite meaningless tohim, but not quite so baffling as the odd little figures which appearedbeneath and between the colored pictures--some strange kind of bug hethought they might be, for many of them had legs though nowhere couldhe find one with eyes and a mouth. It was his first introduction tothe letters of the alphabet, and he was over ten years old.
Of course he had never before seen print, or ever had spoken with anyliving thing which had the remotest idea that such a thing as a writtenlanguage existed, nor ever had he seen anyone reading.
So what wonder that the little boy was quite at a loss to guess themeaning of these strange figures.
Near the middle of the book he found his old enemy, Sabor, the lioness,and further on, coiled Histah, the snake.
Oh, it was most engrossing! Never before in all his ten years had heenjoyed anything so much. So absorbed was he that he did not note theapproaching dusk, until it was quite upon him and the figures wereblurred.
He put the book back in the cupboard and closed the door, for he didnot wish anyone else to find and destroy his treasure, and as he wentout into the gathering darkness he closed the great door of the cabinbehind him as it had been before he discovered the secret of its lock,but before he left he had noticed the hunting knife lying where he hadthrown it upon the floor, and this he picked up and took with him toshow to his fellows.
He had taken scarce a dozen steps toward the jungle when a great formrose up before him from the shadows of a low bush. At first he thoughtit was one of his own people but in another instant he realized that itwas Bolgani, the huge gorilla.
So close was he that there was no chance for flight and little Tarzanknew that he must stand and fight for his life; for these great beastswere the deadly enemies of his tribe, and neither one nor the otherever asked or gave quarter.
Had Tarzan been a full-grown bull ape of the species of his tribe hewould have been more than a match for the gorilla, but being only alittle English boy, though enormously muscular for such, he stood nochance against his cruel antagonist. In his veins, though, flowed theblood of the best of a race of mighty fighters, and back of this wasthe training of his short lifetime among the fierce brutes of thejungle.
He knew no fear, as we know it; his little heart beat the faster butfrom the excitement and exhilaration of adventure. Had the opportunitypresented itself he would have escaped, but solely because his judgmenttold him he was no match for the great thing which confronted him. Andsince reason showed him that successful flight was impossible he metthe gorilla squarely and bravely without a tremor of a single muscle,or any sign of panic.
In fact he met the brute midway in its charge, striking its huge bodywith his closed fists and as futilely as he had been a fly attacking anelephant. But in one hand he still clutched the knife he had found inthe cabin of his father, and as the brute, striking and biting, closedupon him the boy accidentally turned the point toward the hairy breast.As the knife sank deep into its body the gorilla shrieked in pain andrage.
But the boy had learned in that brief second a use for his sharp andshining toy, so that, as the tearing, striking beast dragged him toearth he plunged the blade repeatedly and to the hilt into its breast.
The gorilla, fighting after the manner of its kind, struck terrificblows with its open hand, and tore the flesh at the boy's throat andchest with its mighty tusks.
For a moment they rolled upon the ground in the fierce frenzy ofcombat. More and more weakly the torn and bleeding arm struck homewith the long sharp blade, then the little figure stiffened with aspasmodic jerk, and Tarzan, the young Lord Greystoke, rolledunconscious upon the dead and decaying vegetation which carpeted hisjungle home.
A mile back in the forest the tribe had heard the fierce challenge ofthe gorilla, and, as was his custom when any danger threatened, Kerchakcalled his people together, partly for mutual protection against acommon enemy, since this gorilla might be but one of a party ofseveral, and also to see that all members of the tribe were accountedfor.
It was soon discovered that Tarzan was missing, and Tublat was stronglyopposed to sending assistance. Kerchak himself had no liking for thestrange little waif, so he listened to Tublat, and, finally, with ashrug of his shoulders, turned back to the pile of leaves on which hehad made his bed.
But Kala was of a different mind; in fact, she had not waited but tolearn that Tarzan was absent ere she was fairly flying through thematted branches toward the point from which the cries of the gorillawere still plainly audible.
Darkness had now fallen, and an early moon was sending its faint lightto cast strange, grotesque shadows among the dense foliage of theforest.
Here and there the brilliant rays penetrated to earth, but for the mostpart they only served to accentuate the Stygian blackness of thejungle's depths.
Like some huge phantom, Kala swung noiselessly from tree to tree; nowrunning nimbly along a great branch, now swinging through space at theend of another, only to grasp that of a farther tree in her rapidprogress toward the scene of the tragedy her knowledge of jungle lifetold her was being enacted a short distance before her.
The cries of the gorilla proclaimed that it was in mortal combat withsome other denizen of the fierce wood. Suddenly these cries ceased,and the silence of death reigned throughout the jungle.
Kala could not understand, for the voice of Bolgani had at last beenraised in the agony of suffering and death, but no sound had come toher by which she possibly could determine the nature of his antagonist.
That her little Tarzan could destroy a great bull gorilla she knew tobe improbable, and so, as she neared the spot from which the sounds ofthe struggle had come, she moved more warily and at last slowly andwith extreme caution she traversed the lowest branches, peering eagerlyinto the moon-splashed blackness for a sign of the combatants.
Presently she came upon them, lying in a little open space full underthe brilliant light of the moon--little Tarzan's torn and bloody form,and beside it a great bull gorilla, stone dead.
With a low cry Kala rushed to Tarzan's side, and gathering the poor,blood-covered body to her breast, listened for a sign of life. Faintlyshe heard it--the weak beating of the little heart.
Tenderly she bore him back through the inky jungle to where the tribelay, and for many days and nights she sat guard beside him, bringinghim food and water, and brushing the flies and other insects from hiscruel wounds.
Of medicine or surgery the poor thing knew nothing. She could but lickthe wounds, and thus she kept them cleansed, that healing nature mightthe more quickly do her work.
At first Tarzan would eat nothing, but rolled and tossed in a wilddelirium of fever. All he craved was water, and this she brought himin the only way she could, bearing it in her own mouth.
No human mother could have shown more unselfish and sacrificingdevotion than did this poor, wild brute for the little orphaned waifwhom fate had thrown into her keeping.
At last the fever abated and the boy commenced to mend. No word ofcomplaint passed his tight set lips, though the pain of his wounds wasexcruciating.
A portion of his chest was laid bare to the ribs, three of which hadbeen broken by the mighty blows of the gorilla. One arm was nearlysevered by the giant fangs, and a great piece had been torn from hisneck, exposing his jugular vein, which the cruel jaws had missed but bya miracle.
With the stoicism of the brutes who had raised him he endured hissuffering quietly, preferring to crawl away from the others and liehuddled in some clump of tall grasses rather than to show his miserybefore their eyes.
Kala, alone, he was glad to have with him, but now that he was bettershe was gone longer at a time, in search of food; for the devotedanimal had scarcely eaten enough to support her own life while Tarzanhad been so low, and was in consequence, reduced to a mere shadow ofher former self.