"The Beasts of Tarzan\n\n\nBy\n\nEdgar Rice Burroughs\n\n\n\n\nTo Joan Burroughs\n\n\n\n\n                         CONTENTS\n\n\n CHAPTER\n\n  1  Kidnapped\n  2  Marooned\n  3  Beasts at Bay\n  4  Sheeta\n  5  Mugambi\n  6  A Hideous Crew\n  7  Betrayed\n  8  The Dance of Death\n  9  Chivalry or Villainy\n 10  The Swede\n 11  Tambudza\n 12  A Black Scoundrel\n 13  Escape\n 14  Alone in the Jungle\n 15  Down the Ugambi\n 16  In the Darkness of the Night\n 17  On the Deck of the \"Kincaid\"\n 18  Paulvitch Plots Revenge\n 19  The Last of the \"Kincaid\"\n 20  Jungle Island Again\n 21  The Law of the Jungle\n\n\n\n\nChapter 1\n\nKidnapped\n\n\n\"The entire affair is shrouded in mystery,\" said D'Arnot.  \"I have it\non the best of authority that neither the police nor the special agents\nof the general staff have the faintest conception of how it was\naccomplished.  All they know, all that anyone knows, is that Nikolas\nRokoff has escaped.\"\n\nJohn Clayton, Lord Greystoke--he who had been \"Tarzan of the Apes\"--sat\nin silence in the apartments of his friend, Lieutenant Paul D'Arnot, in\nParis, gazing meditatively at the toe of his immaculate boot.\n\nHis mind revolved many memories, recalled by the escape of his\narch-enemy from the French military prison to which he had been\nsentenced for life upon the testimony of the ape-man.\n\nHe thought of the lengths to which Rokoff had once gone to compass his\ndeath, and he realized that what the man had already done would\ndoubtless be as nothing by comparison with what he would wish and plot\nto do now that he was again free.\n\nTarzan had recently brought his wife and infant son to London to escape\nthe discomforts and dangers of the rainy season upon their vast estate\nin Uziri--the land of the savage Waziri warriors whose broad African\ndomains the ape-man had once ruled.\n\nHe had run across the Channel for a brief visit with his old friend,\nbut the news of the Russian's escape had already cast a shadow upon his\nouting, so that though he had but just arrived he was already\ncontemplating an immediate return to London.\n\n\"It is not that I fear for myself, Paul,\" he said at last.   \"Many\ntimes in the past have I thwarted Rokoff's designs upon my life; but\nnow there are others to consider.  Unless I misjudge the man, he would\nmore quickly strike at me through my wife or son than directly at me,\nfor he doubtless realizes that in no other way could he inflict greater\nanguish upon me.  I must go back to them at once, and remain with them\nuntil Rokoff is recaptured--or dead.\"\n\nAs these two talked in Paris, two other men were talking together in a\nlittle cottage upon the outskirts of London.   Both were dark,\nsinister-looking men.\n\nOne was bearded, but the other, whose face wore the pallor of long\nconfinement within doors, had but a few days' growth of black beard\nupon his face.  It was he who was speaking.\n\n\"You must needs shave off that beard of yours, Alexis,\" he said to his\ncompanion.  \"With it he would recognize you on the instant.  We must\nseparate here in the hour, and when we meet again upon the deck of the\nKincaid, let us hope that we shall have with us two honoured guests who\nlittle anticipate the pleasant voyage we have planned for them.\n\n\"In two hours I should be upon my way to Dover with one of them, and by\ntomorrow night, if you follow my instructions carefully, you should\narrive with the other, provided, of course, that he returns to London\nas quickly as I presume he will.\n\n\"There should be both profit and pleasure as well as other good things\nto reward our efforts, my dear Alexis.  Thanks to the stupidity of the\nFrench, they have gone to such lengths to conceal the fact of my escape\nfor these many days that I have had ample opportunity to work out every\ndetail of our little adventure so carefully that there is little chance\nof the slightest hitch occurring to mar our prospects.  And now\ngood-bye, and good luck!\"\n\nThree hours later a messenger mounted the steps to the apartment of\nLieutenant D'Arnot.\n\n\"A telegram for Lord Greystoke,\" he said to the servant who answered\nhis summons.  \"Is he here?\"\n\nThe man answered in the affirmative, and, signing for the message,\ncarried it within to Tarzan, who was already preparing to depart for\nLondon.\n\nTarzan tore open the envelope, and as he read his face went white.\n\n\"Read it, Paul,\" he said, handing the slip of paper to D'Arnot.  \"It\nhas come already.\"\n\nThe Frenchman took the telegram and read:\n\n\"Jack stolen from the garden through complicity of new servant.  Come\nat once.--JANE.\"\n\n\nAs Tarzan leaped from the roadster that had met him at the station and\nran up the steps to his London town house he was met at the door by a\ndry-eyed but almost frantic woman.\n\nQuickly Jane Porter Clayton narrated all that she had been able to\nlearn of the theft of the boy.\n\nThe baby's nurse had been wheeling him in the sunshine on the walk\nbefore the house when a closed taxicab drew up at the corner of the\nstreet.  The woman had paid but passing attention to the vehicle,\nmerely noting that it discharged no passenger, but stood at the kerb\nwith the motor running as though waiting for a fare from the residence\nbefore which it had stopped.\n\nAlmost immediately the new houseman, Carl, had come running from the\nGreystoke house, saying that the girl's mistress wished to speak with\nher for a moment, and that she was to leave little Jack in his care\nuntil she returned.\n\nThe woman said that she entertained not the slightest suspicion of the\nman's motives until she had reached the doorway of the house, when it\noccurred to her to warn him not to turn the carriage so as to permit\nthe sun to shine in the baby's eyes.\n\nAs she turned about to call this to him she was somewhat surprised to\nsee that he was wheeling the carriage rapidly toward the corner, and at\nthe same time she saw the door of the taxicab open and a swarthy face\nframed for a moment in the aperture.\n\nIntuitively, the danger to the child flashed upon her, and with a\nshriek she dashed down the steps and up the walk toward the taxicab,\ninto which Carl was now handing the baby to the swarthy one within.\n\nJust before she reached the vehicle, Carl leaped in beside his\nconfederate, slamming the door behind him.  At the same time the\nchauffeur attempted to start his machine, but it was evident that\nsomething had gone wrong, as though the gears refused to mesh, and the\ndelay caused by this, while he pushed the lever into reverse and backed\nthe car a few inches before again attempting to go ahead, gave the\nnurse time to reach the side of the taxicab.\n\nLeaping to the running-board, she had attempted to snatch the baby from\nthe arms of the stranger, and here, screaming and fighting, she had\nclung to her position even after the taxicab had got under way; nor was\nit until the machine had passed the Greystoke residence at good speed\nthat Carl, with a heavy blow to her face, had succeeded in knocking her\nto the pavement.\n\nHer screams had attracted servants and members of the families from\nresidences near by, as well as from the Greystoke home.  Lady Greystoke\nhad witnessed the girl's brave battle, and had herself tried to reach\nthe rapidly passing vehicle, but had been too late.\n\nThat was all that anyone knew, nor did Lady Greystoke dream of the\npossible identity of the man at the bottom of the plot until her\nhusband told her of the escape of Nikolas Rokoff from the French prison\nwhere they had hoped he was permanently confined.\n\nAs Tarzan and his wife stood planning the wisest course to pursue, the\ntelephone bell rang in the library at their right.  Tarzan quickly\nanswered the call in person.\n\n\"Lord Greystoke?\" asked a man's voice at the other end of the line.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Your son has been stolen,\" continued the voice, \"and I alone may help\nyou to recover him.  I am conversant with the plot of those who took\nhim.  In fact, I was a party to it, and was to share in the reward, but\nnow they are trying to ditch me, and to be quits with them I will aid\nyou to recover him on condition that you will not prosecute me for my\npart in the crime.  What do you say?\"\n\n\"If you lead me to where my son is hidden,\" replied the ape-man, \"you\nneed fear nothing from me.\"\n\n\"Good,\" replied the other.  \"But you must come alone to meet me, for it\nis enough that I must trust you.  I cannot take the chance of\npermitting others to learn my identity.\"\n\n\"Where and when may I meet you?\" asked Tarzan.\n\nThe other gave the name and location of a public-house on the\nwater-front at Dover--a place frequented by sailors.\n\n\"Come,\" he concluded, \"about ten o'clock tonight.  It would do no good\nto arrive earlier.  Your son will be safe enough in the meantime, and I\ncan then lead you secretly to where he is hidden.  But be sure to come\nalone, and under no circumstances notify Scotland Yard, for I know you\nwell and shall be watching for you.\n\n\"Should any other accompany you, or should I see suspicious characters\nwho might be agents of the police, I shall not meet you, and your last\nchance of recovering your son will be gone.\"\n\nWithout more words the man rang off.\n\nTarzan repeated the gist of the conversation to his wife.   She begged\nto be allowed to accompany him, but he insisted that it might result in\nthe man's carrying out his threat of refusing to aid them if Tarzan did\nnot come alone, and so they parted, he to hasten to Dover, and she,\nostensibly to wait at home until he should notify her of the outcome of\nhis mission.\n\nLittle did either dream of what both were destined to pass through\nbefore they should meet again, or the far-distant--but why anticipate?\n\nFor ten minutes after the ape-man had left her Jane Clayton walked\nrestlessly back and forth across the silken rugs of the library.  Her\nmother heart ached, bereft of its first-born.  Her mind was in an\nanguish of hopes and fears.\n\nThough her judgment told her that all would be well were her Tarzan to\ngo alone in accordance with the mysterious stranger's summons, her\nintuition would not permit her to lay aside suspicion of the gravest\ndangers to both her husband and her son.\n\nThe more she thought of the matter, the more convinced she became that\nthe recent telephone message might be but a ruse to keep them inactive\nuntil the boy was safely hidden away or spirited out of England.  Or it\nmight be that it had been simply a bait to lure Tarzan into the hands\nof the implacable Rokoff.\n\nWith the lodgment of this thought she stopped in wide-eyed terror.\nInstantly it became a conviction.  She glanced at the great clock\nticking the minutes in the corner of the library.\n\nIt was too late to catch the Dover train that Tarzan was to take.\nThere was another, later, however, that would bring her to the Channel\nport in time to reach the address the stranger had given her husband\nbefore the appointed hour.\n\nSummoning her maid and chauffeur, she issued instructions rapidly.  Ten\nminutes later she was being whisked through the crowded streets toward\nthe railway station.\n\nIt was nine-forty-five that night that Tarzan entered the squalid \"pub\"\non the water-front in Dover.  As he passed into the evil-smelling room\na muffled figure brushed past him toward the street.\n\n\"Come, my lord!\" whispered the stranger.\n\nThe ape-man wheeled about and followed the other into the ill-lit\nalley, which custom had dignified with the title of thoroughfare.  Once\noutside, the fellow led the way into the darkness, nearer a wharf,\nwhere high-piled bales, boxes, and casks cast dense shadows.  Here he\nhalted.\n\n\"Where is the boy?\" asked Greystoke.\n\n\"On that small steamer whose lights you can just see yonder,\" replied\nthe other.\n\nIn the gloom Tarzan was trying to peer into the features of his\ncompanion, but he did not recognize the man as one whom he had ever\nbefore seen.  Had he guessed that his guide was Alexis Paulvitch he\nwould have realized that naught but treachery lay in the man's heart,\nand that danger lurked in the path of every move.\n\n\"He is unguarded now,\" continued the Russian.  \"Those who took him feel\nperfectly safe from detection, and with the exception of a couple of\nmembers of the crew, whom I have furnished with enough gin to silence\nthem effectually for hours, there is none aboard the Kincaid.  We can\ngo aboard, get the child, and return without the slightest fear.\"\n\nTarzan nodded.\n\n\"Let's be about it, then,\" he said.\n\nHis guide led him to a small boat moored alongside the wharf.   The two\nmen entered, and Paulvitch pulled rapidly toward the steamer.  The\nblack smoke issuing from her funnel did not at the time make any\nsuggestion to Tarzan's mind.  All his thoughts were occupied with the\nhope that in a few moments he would again have his little son in his\narms.\n\nAt the steamer's side they found a monkey-ladder dangling close above\nthem, and up this the two men crept stealthily.   Once on deck they\nhastened aft to where the Russian pointed to a hatch.\n\n\"The boy is hidden there,\" he said.  \"You had better go down after him,\nas there is less chance that he will cry in fright than should he find\nhimself in the arms of a stranger.   I will stand on guard here.\"\n\nSo anxious was Tarzan to rescue the child that he gave not the\nslightest thought to the strangeness of all the conditions surrounding\nthe Kincaid.  That her deck was deserted, though she had steam up, and\nfrom the volume of smoke pouring from her funnel was all ready to get\nunder way made no impression upon him.\n\nWith the thought that in another instant he would fold that precious\nlittle bundle of humanity in his arms, the ape-man swung down into the\ndarkness below.  Scarcely had he released his hold upon the edge of the\nhatch than the heavy covering fell clattering above him.\n\nInstantly he knew that he was the victim of a plot, and that far from\nrescuing his son he had himself fallen into the hands of his enemies.\nThough he immediately endeavoured to reach the hatch and lift the\ncover, he was unable to do so.\n\nStriking a match, he explored his surroundings, finding that a little\ncompartment had been partitioned off from the main hold, with the hatch\nabove his head the only means of ingress or egress.  It was evident\nthat the room had been prepared for the very purpose of serving as a\ncell for himself.\n\nThere was nothing in the compartment, and no other occupant.   If the\nchild was on board the Kincaid he was confined elsewhere.\n\nFor over twenty years, from infancy to manhood, the ape-man had roamed\nhis savage jungle haunts without human companionship of any nature.  He\nhad learned at the most impressionable period of his life to take his\npleasures and his sorrows as the beasts take theirs.\n\nSo it was that he neither raved nor stormed against fate, but instead\nwaited patiently for what might next befall him, though not by any\nmeans without an eye to doing the utmost to succour himself.  To this\nend he examined his prison carefully, tested the heavy planking that\nformed its walls, and measured the distance of the hatch above him.\n\nAnd while he was thus occupied there came suddenly to him the vibration\nof machinery and the throbbing of the propeller.\n\nThe ship was moving!  Where to and to what fate was it carrying him?\n\nAnd even as these thoughts passed through his mind there came to his\nears above the din of the engines that which caused him to go cold with\napprehension.\n\nClear and shrill from the deck above him rang the scream of a\nfrightened woman.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\nMarooned\n\n\nAs Tarzan and his guide had disappeared into the shadows upon the dark\nwharf the figure of a heavily veiled woman had hurried down the narrow\nalley to the entrance of the drinking-place the two men had just\nquitted.\n\nHere she paused and looked about, and then as though satisfied that she\nhad at last reached the place she sought, she pushed bravely into the\ninterior of the vile den.\n\nA score of half-drunken sailors and wharf-rats looked up at the\nunaccustomed sight of a richly gowned woman in their midst.   Rapidly\nshe approached the slovenly barmaid who stared half in envy, half in\nhate, at her more fortunate sister.\n\n\"Have you seen a tall, well-dressed man here, but a minute since,\" she\nasked, \"who met another and went away with him?\"\n\nThe girl answered in the affirmative, but could not tell which way the\ntwo had gone.  A sailor who had approached to listen to the\nconversation vouchsafed the information that a moment before as he had\nbeen about to enter the \"pub\" he had seen two men leaving it who walked\ntoward the wharf.\n\n\"Show me the direction they went,\" cried the woman, slipping a coin\ninto the man's hand.\n\nThe fellow led her from the place, and together they walked quickly\ntoward the wharf and along it until across the water they saw a small\nboat just pulling into the shadows of a near-by steamer.\n\n\"There they be,\" whispered the man.\n\n\"Ten pounds if you will find a boat and row me to that steamer,\" cried\nthe woman.\n\n\"Quick, then,\" he replied, \"for we gotta go it if we're goin' to catch\nthe Kincaid afore she sails.  She's had steam up for three hours an'\njest been a-waitin' fer that one passenger.   I was a-talkin' to one of\nher crew 'arf an hour ago.\"\n\nAs he spoke he led the way to the end of the wharf where he knew\nanother boat lay moored, and, lowering the woman into it, he jumped in\nafter and pushed off.  The two were soon scudding over the water.\n\nAt the steamer's side the man demanded his pay and, without waiting to\ncount out the exact amount, the woman thrust a handful of bank-notes\ninto his outstretched hand.  A single glance at them convinced the\nfellow that he had been more than well paid.  Then he assisted her up\nthe ladder, holding his skiff close to the ship's side against the\nchance that this profitable passenger might wish to be taken ashore\nlater.\n\nBut presently the sound of the donkey engine and the rattle of a steel\ncable on the hoisting-drum proclaimed the fact that the Kincaid's\nanchor was being raised, and a moment later the waiter heard the\npropellers revolving, and slowly the little steamer moved away from him\nout into the channel.\n\nAs he turned to row back to shore he heard a woman's shriek from the\nship's deck.\n\n\"That's wot I calls rotten luck,\" he soliloquized.  \"I might jest as\nwell of 'ad the whole bloomin' wad.\"\n\n\nWhen Jane Clayton climbed to the deck of the Kincaid she found the ship\napparently deserted.  There was no sign of those she sought nor of any\nother aboard, and so she went about her search for her husband and the\nchild she hoped against hope to find there without interruption.\n\nQuickly she hastened to the cabin, which was half above and half below\ndeck.  As she hurried down the short companion-ladder into the main\ncabin, on either side of which were the smaller rooms occupied by the\nofficers, she failed to note the quick closing of one of the doors\nbefore her.  She passed the full length of the main room, and then\nretracing her steps stopped before each door to listen, furtively\ntrying each latch.\n\nAll was silence, utter silence there, in which the throbbing of her own\nfrightened heart seemed to her overwrought imagination to fill the ship\nwith its thunderous alarm.\n\nOne by one the doors opened before her touch, only to reveal empty\ninteriors.  In her absorption she did not note the sudden activity upon\nthe vessel, the purring of the engines, the throbbing of the propeller.\nShe had reached the last door upon the right now, and as she pushed it\nopen she was seized from within by a powerful, dark-visaged man, and\ndrawn hastily into the stuffy, ill-smelling interior.\n\nThe sudden shock of fright which the unexpected attack had upon her\ndrew a single piercing scream from her throat; then the man clapped a\nhand roughly over the mouth.\n\n\"Not until we are farther from land, my dear,\" he said.   \"Then you may\nyell your pretty head off.\"\n\nLady Greystoke turned to look into the leering, bearded face so close\nto hers.  The man relaxed the pressure of his fingers upon her lips,\nand with a little moan of terror as she recognized him the girl shrank\naway from her captor.\n\n\"Nikolas Rokoff!  M.  Thuran!\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"Your devoted admirer,\" replied the Russian, with a low bow.\n\n\"My little boy,\" she said next, ignoring the terms of\nendearment--\"where is he?  Let me have him.  How could you be so\ncruel--even as you--Nikolas Rokoff--cannot be entirely devoid of mercy\nand compassion?  Tell me where he is.  Is he aboard this ship?  Oh,\nplease, if such a thing as a heart beats within your breast, take me to\nmy baby!\"\n\n\"If you do as you are bid no harm will befall him,\" replied Rokoff.\n\"But remember that it is your own fault that you are here.   You came\naboard voluntarily, and you may take the consequences.   I little\nthought,\" he added to himself, \"that any such good luck as this would\ncome to me.\"\n\nHe went on deck then, locking the cabin-door upon his prisoner, and for\nseveral days she did not see him.  The truth of the matter being that\nNikolas Rokoff was so poor a sailor that the heavy seas the Kincaid\nencountered from the very beginning of her voyage sent the Russian to\nhis berth with a bad attack of sea-sickness.\n\nDuring this time her only visitor was an uncouth Swede, the Kincaid's\nunsavoury cook, who brought her meals to her.   His name was Sven\nAnderssen, his one pride being that his patronymic was spelt with a\ndouble \"s.\"\n\nThe man was tall and raw-boned, with a long yellow moustache, an\nunwholesome complexion, and filthy nails.   The very sight of him with\none grimy thumb buried deep in the lukewarm stew, that seemed, from the\nfrequency of its repetition, to constitute the pride of his culinary\nart, was sufficient to take away the girl's appetite.\n\nHis small, blue, close-set eyes never met hers squarely.   There was a\nshiftiness of his whole appearance that even found expression in the\ncat-like manner of his gait, and to it all a sinister suggestion was\nadded by the long slim knife that always rested at his waist, slipped\nthrough the greasy cord that supported his soiled apron.  Ostensibly it\nwas but an implement of his calling; but the girl could never free\nherself of the conviction that it would require less provocation to\nwitness it put to other and less harmless uses.\n\nHis manner toward her was surly, yet she never failed to meet him with\na pleasant smile and a word of thanks when he brought her food to her,\nthough more often than not she hurled the bulk of it through the tiny\ncabin port the moment that the door closed behind him.\n\nDuring the days of anguish that followed Jane Clayton's imprisonment,\nbut two questions were uppermost in her mind--the whereabouts of her\nhusband and her son.  She fully believed that the baby was aboard the\nKincaid, provided that he still lived, but whether Tarzan had been\npermitted to live after having been lured aboard the evil craft she\ncould not guess.\n\nShe knew, of course, the deep hatred that the Russian felt for the\nEnglishman, and she could think of but one reason for having him\nbrought aboard the ship--to dispatch him in comparative safety in\nrevenge for his having thwarted Rokoff's pet schemes, and for having\nbeen at last the means of landing him in a French prison.\n\n\nTarzan, on his part, lay in the darkness of his cell, ignorant of the\nfact that his wife was a prisoner in the cabin almost above his head.\n\nThe same Swede that served Jane brought his meals to him, but, though\non several occasions Tarzan had tried to draw the man into\nconversation, he had been unsuccessful.   He had hoped to learn through\nthis fellow whether his little son was aboard the Kincaid, but to every\nquestion upon this or kindred subjects the fellow returned but one\nreply, \"Ay tank it blow purty soon purty hard.\" So after several\nattempts Tarzan gave it up.\n\nFor weeks that seemed months to the two prisoners the little steamer\nforged on they knew not where.  Once the Kincaid stopped to coal, only\nimmediately to take up the seemingly interminable voyage.\n\nRokoff had visited Jane Clayton but once since he had locked her in the\ntiny cabin.  He had come gaunt and hollow-eyed from a long siege of\nsea-sickness.  The object of his visit was to obtain from her her\npersonal cheque for a large sum in return for a guarantee of her\npersonal safety and return to England.\n\n\"When you set me down safely in any civilized port, together with my\nson and my husband,\" she replied, \"I will pay you in gold twice the\namount you ask; but until then you shall not have a cent, nor the\npromise of a cent under any other conditions.\"\n\n\"You will give me the cheque I ask,\" he replied with a snarl, \"or\nneither you nor your child nor your husband will ever again set foot\nwithin any port, civilized or otherwise.\"\n\n\"I would not trust you,\" she replied.  \"What guarantee have I that you\nwould not take my money and then do as you pleased with me and mine\nregardless of your promise?\"\n\n\"I think you will do as I bid,\" he said, turning to leave the cabin.\n\"Remember that I have your son--if you chance to hear the agonized wail\nof a tortured child it may console you to reflect that it is because of\nyour stubbornness that the baby suffers--and that it is your baby.\"\n\n\"You would not do it!\" cried the girl.  \"You would not--could not be so\nfiendishly cruel!\"\n\n\"It is not I that am cruel, but you,\" he returned, \"for you permit a\npaltry sum of money to stand between your baby and immunity from\nsuffering.\"\n\nThe end of it was that Jane Clayton wrote out a cheque of large\ndenomination and handed it to Nikolas Rokoff, who left her cabin with a\ngrin of satisfaction upon his lips.\n\nThe following day the hatch was removed from Tarzan's cell, and as he\nlooked up he saw Paulvitch's head framed in the square of light above\nhim.\n\n\"Come up,\" commanded the Russian.  \"But bear in mind that you will be\nshot if you make a single move to attack me or any other aboard the\nship.\"\n\nThe ape-man swung himself lightly to the deck.  About him, but at a\nrespectful distance, stood a half-dozen sailors armed with rifles and\nrevolvers.  Facing him was Paulvitch.\n\nTarzan looked about for Rokoff, who he felt sure must be aboard, but\nthere was no sign of him.\n\n\"Lord Greystoke,\" commenced the Russian, \"by your continued and wanton\ninterference with M.  Rokoff and his plans you have at last brought\nyourself and your family to this unfortunate extremity.  You have only\nyourself to thank.   As you may imagine, it has cost M.  Rokoff a large\namount of money to finance this expedition, and, as you are the sole\ncause of it, he naturally looks to you for reimbursement.\n\n\"Further, I may say that only by meeting M.  Rokoff's just demands may\nyou avert the most unpleasant consequences to your wife and child, and\nat the same time retain your own life and regain your liberty.\"\n\n\"What is the amount?\" asked Tarzan.  \"And what assurance have I that\nyou will live up to your end of the agreement?  I have little reason to\ntrust two such scoundrels as you and Rokoff, you know.\"\n\nThe Russian flushed.\n\n\"You are in no position to deliver insults,\" he said.   \"You have no\nassurance that we will live up to our agreement other than my word, but\nyou have before you the assurance that we can make short work of you if\nyou do not write out the cheque we demand.\n\n\"Unless you are a greater fool than I imagine, you should know that\nthere is nothing that would give us greater pleasure than to order\nthese men to fire.  That we do not is because we have other plans for\npunishing you that would be entirely upset by your death.\"\n\n\"Answer one question,\" said Tarzan.  \"Is my son on board this ship?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Alexis Paulvitch, \"your son is quite safe elsewhere; nor\nwill he be killed until you refuse to accede to our fair demands.  If\nit becomes necessary to kill you, there will be no reason for not\nkilling the child, since with you gone the one whom we wish to punish\nthrough the boy will be gone, and he will then be to us only a constant\nsource of danger and embarrassment.  You see, therefore, that you may\nonly save the life of your son by saving your own, and you can only\nsave your own by giving us the cheque we ask.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Tarzan, for he knew that he could trust them to\ncarry out any sinister threat that Paulvitch had made, and there was a\nbare chance that by conceding their demands he might save the boy.\n\nThat they would permit him to live after he had appended his name to\nthe cheque never occurred to him as being within the realms of\nprobability.  But he was determined to give them such a battle as they\nwould never forget, and possibly to take Paulvitch with him into\neternity.  He was only sorry that it was not Rokoff.\n\nHe took his pocket cheque-book and fountain-pen from his pocket.\n\n\"What is the amount?\" he asked.\n\nPaulvitch named an enormous sum.  Tarzan could scarce restrain a smile.\n\nTheir very cupidity was to prove the means of their undoing, in the\nmatter of the ransom at least.  Purposely he hesitated and haggled over\nthe amount, but Paulvitch was obdurate.   Finally the ape-man wrote out\nhis cheque for a larger sum than stood to his credit at the bank.\n\nAs he turned to hand the worthless slip of paper to the Russian his\nglance chanced to pass across the starboard bow of the Kincaid.  To his\nsurprise he saw that the ship lay within a few hundred yards of land.\nAlmost down to the water's edge ran a dense tropical jungle, and behind\nwas higher land clothed in forest.\n\nPaulvitch noted the direction of his gaze.\n\n\"You are to be set at liberty here,\" he said.\n\nTarzan's plan for immediate physical revenge upon the Russian vanished.\nHe thought the land before him the mainland of Africa, and he knew that\nshould they liberate him here he could doubtless find his way to\ncivilization with comparative ease.\n\nPaulvitch took the cheque.\n\n\"Remove your clothing,\" he said to the ape-man.  \"Here you will not\nneed it.\"\n\nTarzan demurred.\n\nPaulvitch pointed to the armed sailors.  Then the Englishman slowly\ndivested himself of his clothing.\n\nA boat was lowered, and, still heavily guarded, the ape-man was rowed\nashore.  Half an hour later the sailors had returned to the Kincaid,\nand the steamer was slowly getting under way.\n\nAs Tarzan stood upon the narrow strip of beach watching the departure\nof the vessel he saw a figure appear at the rail and call aloud to\nattract his attention.\n\nThe ape-man had been about to read a note that one of the sailors had\nhanded him as the small boat that bore him to the shore was on the\npoint of returning to the steamer, but at the hail from the vessel's\ndeck he looked up.\n\nHe saw a black-bearded man who laughed at him in derision as he held\nhigh above his head the figure of a little child.   Tarzan half started\nas though to rush through the surf and strike out for the already\nmoving steamer; but realizing the futility of so rash an act he halted\nat the water's edge.\n\nThus he stood, his gaze riveted upon the Kincaid until it disappeared\nbeyond a projecting promontory of the coast.\n\nFrom the jungle at his back fierce bloodshot eyes glared from beneath\nshaggy overhanging brows upon him.\n\nLittle monkeys in the tree-tops chattered and scolded, and from the\ndistance of the inland forest came the scream of a leopard.\n\nBut still John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, stood deaf and unseeing,\nsuffering the pangs of keen regret for the opportunity that he had\nwasted because he had been so gullible as to place credence in a single\nstatement of the first lieutenant of his arch-enemy.\n\n\"I have at least,\" he thought, \"one consolation--the knowledge that\nJane is safe in London.  Thank Heaven she, too, did not fall into the\nclutches of those villains.\"\n\nBehind him the hairy thing whose evil eyes had been watching him as a\ncat watches a mouse was creeping stealthily toward him.\n\nWhere were the trained senses of the savage ape-man?\n\nWhere the acute hearing?\n\nWhere the uncanny sense of scent?\n\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\nBeasts at Bay\n\n\nSlowly Tarzan unfolded the note the sailor had thrust into his hand,\nand read it.  At first it made little impression on his sorrow-numbed\nsenses, but finally the full purport of the hideous plot of revenge\nunfolded itself before his imagination.\n\n\"This will explain to you\" [the note read] \"the exact nature of my\nintentions relative to your offspring and to you.\n\n\"You were born an ape.  You lived naked in the jungles--to your own we\nhave returned you; but your son shall rise a step above his sire.  It\nis the immutable law of evolution.\n\n\"The father was a beast, but the son shall be a man--he shall take the\nnext ascending step in the scale of progress.   He shall be no naked\nbeast of the jungle, but shall wear a loin-cloth and copper anklets,\nand, perchance, a ring in his nose, for he is to be reared by men--a\ntribe of savage cannibals.\n\n\"I might have killed you, but that would have curtailed the full\nmeasure of the punishment you have earned at my hands.\n\n\"Dead, you could not have suffered in the knowledge of your son's\nplight; but living and in a place from which you may not escape to seek\nor succour your child, you shall suffer worse than death for all the\nyears of your life in contemplation of the horrors of your son's\nexistence.\n\n\"This, then, is to be a part of your punishment for having dared to pit\nyourself against\n\nN. R.\n\n\"P.S.--The balance of your punishment has to do with what shall\npresently befall your wife--that I shall leave to your imagination.\"\n\n\nAs he finished reading, a slight sound behind him brought him back with\na start to the world of present realities.\n\nInstantly his senses awoke, and he was again Tarzan of the Apes.\n\nAs he wheeled about, it was a beast at bay, vibrant with the instinct\nof self-preservation, that faced a huge bull-ape that was already\ncharging down upon him.\n\nThe two years that had elapsed since Tarzan had come out of the savage\nforest with his rescued mate had witnessed slight diminution of the\nmighty powers that had made him the invincible lord of the jungle.  His\ngreat estates in Uziri had claimed much of his time and attention, and\nthere he had found ample field for the practical use and retention of\nhis almost superhuman powers; but naked and unarmed to do battle with\nthe shaggy, bull-necked beast that now confronted him was a test that\nthe ape-man would scarce have welcomed at any period of his wild\nexistence.\n\nBut there was no alternative other than to meet the rage-maddened\ncreature with the weapons with which nature had endowed him.\n\nOver the bull's shoulder Tarzan could see now the heads and shoulders\nof perhaps a dozen more of these mighty fore-runners of primitive man.\n\nHe knew, however, that there was little chance that they would attack\nhim, since it is not within the reasoning powers of the anthropoid to\nbe able to weigh or appreciate the value of concentrated action against\nan enemy--otherwise they would long since have become the dominant\ncreatures of their haunts, so tremendous a power of destruction lies in\ntheir mighty thews and savage fangs.\n\nWith a low snarl the beast now hurled himself at Tarzan, but the\nape-man had found, among other things in the haunts of civilized man,\ncertain methods of scientific warfare that are unknown to the jungle\nfolk.\n\nWhereas, a few years since, he would have met the brute rush with brute\nforce, he now sidestepped his antagonist's headlong charge, and as the\nbrute hurtled past him swung a mighty right to the pit of the ape's\nstomach.\n\nWith a howl of mingled rage and anguish the great anthropoid bent\ndouble and sank to the ground, though almost instantly he was again\nstruggling to his feet.\n\nBefore he could regain them, however, his white-skinned foe had wheeled\nand pounced upon him, and in the act there dropped from the shoulders\nof the English lord the last shred of his superficial mantle of\ncivilization.\n\nOnce again he was the jungle beast revelling in bloody conflict with\nhis kind.  Once again he was Tarzan, son of Kala the she-ape.\n\nHis strong, white teeth sank into the hairy throat of his enemy as he\nsought the pulsing jugular.\n\nPowerful fingers held the mighty fangs from his own flesh, or clenched\nand beat with the power of a steam-hammer upon the snarling,\nfoam-flecked face of his adversary.\n\nIn a circle about them the balance of the tribe of apes stood watching\nand enjoying the struggle.  They muttered low gutturals of approval as\nbits of white hide or hairy bloodstained skin were torn from one\ncontestant or the other.  But they were silent in amazement and\nexpectation when they saw the mighty white ape wriggle upon the back of\ntheir king, and, with steel muscles tensed beneath the armpits of his\nantagonist, bear down mightily with his open palms upon the back of the\nthick bullneck, so that the king ape could but shriek in agony and\nflounder helplessly about upon the thick mat of jungle grass.\n\nAs Tarzan had overcome the huge Terkoz that time years before when he\nhad been about to set out upon his quest for human beings of his own\nkind and colour, so now he overcame this other great ape with the same\nwrestling hold upon which he had stumbled by accident during that other\ncombat.   The little audience of fierce anthropoids heard the creaking\nof their king's neck mingling with his agonized shrieks and hideous\nroaring.\n\nThen there came a sudden crack, like the breaking of a stout limb\nbefore the fury of the wind.  The bullet-head crumpled forward upon its\nflaccid neck against the great hairy chest--the roaring and the\nshrieking ceased.\n\nThe little pig-eyes of the onlookers wandered from the still form of\ntheir leader to that of the white ape that was rising to its feet\nbeside the vanquished, then back to their king as though in wonder that\nhe did not arise and slay this presumptuous stranger.\n\nThey saw the new-comer place a foot upon the neck of the quiet figure\nat his feet and, throwing back his head, give vent to the wild, uncanny\nchallenge of the bull-ape that has made a kill.  Then they knew that\ntheir king was dead.\n\nAcross the jungle rolled the horrid notes of the victory cry.  The\nlittle monkeys in the tree-tops ceased their chattering.   The\nharsh-voiced, brilliant-plumed birds were still.  From afar came the\nanswering wail of a leopard and the deep roar of a lion.\n\nIt was the old Tarzan who turned questioning eyes upon the little knot\nof apes before him.  It was the old Tarzan who shook his head as though\nto toss back a heavy mane that had fallen before his face--an old habit\ndating from the days that his great shock of thick, black hair had\nfallen about his shoulders, and often tumbled before his eyes when it\nhad meant life or death to him to have his vision unobstructed.\n\nThe ape-man knew that he might expect an immediate attack on the part\nof that particular surviving bull-ape who felt himself best fitted to\ncontend for the kingship of the tribe.   Among his own apes he knew\nthat it was not unusual for an entire stranger to enter a community\nand, after having dispatched the king, assume the leadership of the\ntribe himself, together with the fallen monarch's mates.\n\nOn the other hand, if he made no attempt to follow them, they might\nmove slowly away from him, later to fight among themselves for the\nsupremacy.  That he could be king of them, if he so chose, he was\nconfident; but he was not sure he cared to assume the sometimes irksome\nduties of that position, for he could see no particular advantage to be\ngained thereby.\n\nOne of the younger apes, a huge, splendidly muscled brute, was edging\nthreateningly closer to the ape-man.  Through his bared fighting fangs\nthere issued a low, sullen growl.\n\nTarzan watched his every move, standing rigid as a statue.   To have\nfallen back a step would have been to precipitate an immediate charge;\nto have rushed forward to meet the other might have had the same\nresult, or it might have put the bellicose one to flight--it all\ndepended upon the young bull's stock of courage.\n\nTo stand perfectly still, waiting, was the middle course.   In this\nevent the bull would, according to custom, approach quite close to the\nobject of his attention, growling hideously and baring slavering fangs.\nSlowly he would circle about the other, as though with a chip upon his\nshoulder; and this he did, even as Tarzan had foreseen.\n\nIt might be a bluff royal, or, on the other hand, so unstable is the\nmind of an ape, a passing impulse might hurl the hairy mass, tearing\nand rending, upon the man without an instant's warning.\n\nAs the brute circled him Tarzan turned slowly, keeping his eyes ever\nupon the eyes of his antagonist.  He had appraised the young bull as\none who had never quite felt equal to the task of overthrowing his\nformer king, but who one day would have done so.  Tarzan saw that the\nbeast was of wondrous proportions, standing over seven feet upon his\nshort, bowed legs.\n\nHis great, hairy arms reached almost to the ground even when he stood\nerect, and his fighting fangs, now quite close to Tarzan's face, were\nexceptionally long and sharp.  Like the others of his tribe, he\ndiffered in several minor essentials from the apes of Tarzan's boyhood.\n\nAt first the ape-man had experienced a thrill of hope at sight of the\nshaggy bodies of the anthropoids--a hope that by some strange freak of\nfate he had been again returned to his own tribe; but a closer\ninspection had convinced him that these were another species.\n\nAs the threatening bull continued his stiff and jerky circling of the\nape-man, much after the manner that you have noted among dogs when a\nstrange canine comes among them, it occurred to Tarzan to discover if\nthe language of his own tribe was identical with that of this other\nfamily, and so he addressed the brute in the language of the tribe of\nKerchak.\n\n\"Who are you,\" he asked, \"who threatens Tarzan of the Apes?\"\n\nThe hairy brute looked his surprise.\n\n\"I am Akut,\" replied the other in the same simple, primal tongue which\nis so low in the scale of spoken languages that, as Tarzan had\nsurmised, it was identical with that of the tribe in which the first\ntwenty years of his life had been spent.\n\n\"I am Akut,\" said the ape.  \"Molak is dead.  I am king.  Go away or I\nshall kill you!\"\n\n\"You saw how easily I killed Molak,\" replied Tarzan.  \"So I could kill\nyou if I cared to be king.  But Tarzan of the Apes would not be king of\nthe tribe of Akut.  All he wishes is to live in peace in this country.\nLet us be friends.   Tarzan of the Apes can help you, and you can help\nTarzan of the Apes.\"\n\n\"You cannot kill Akut,\" replied the other.  \"None is so great as Akut.\nHad you not killed Molak, Akut would have done so, for Akut was ready\nto be king.\"\n\nFor answer the ape-man hurled himself upon the great brute who during\nthe conversation had slightly relaxed his vigilance.\n\nIn the twinkling of an eye the man had seized the wrist of the great\nape, and before the other could grapple with him had whirled him about\nand leaped upon his broad back.\n\nDown they went together, but so well had Tarzan's plan worked out that\nbefore ever they touched the ground he had gained the same hold upon\nAkut that had broken Molak's neck.\n\nSlowly he brought the pressure to bear, and then as in days gone by he\nhad given Kerchak the chance to surrender and live, so now he gave to\nAkut--in whom he saw a possible ally of great strength and\nresource--the option of living in amity with him or dying as he had\njust seen his savage and heretofore invincible king die.\n\n\"Ka-Goda?\" whispered Tarzan to the ape beneath him.\n\nIt was the same question that he had whispered to Kerchak, and in the\nlanguage of the apes it means, broadly, \"Do you surrender?\"\n\nAkut thought of the creaking sound he had heard just before Molak's\nthick neck had snapped, and he shuddered.\n\nHe hated to give up the kingship, though, so again he struggled to free\nhimself; but a sudden torturing pressure upon his vertebra brought an\nagonized \"ka-goda!\" from his lips.\n\nTarzan relaxed his grip a trifle.\n\n\"You may still be king, Akut,\" he said.  \"Tarzan told you that he did\nnot wish to be king.  If any question your right, Tarzan of the Apes\nwill help you in your battles.\"\n\nThe ape-man rose, and Akut came slowly to his feet.   Shaking his\nbullet head and growling angrily, he waddled toward his tribe, looking\nfirst at one and then at another of the larger bulls who might be\nexpected to challenge his leadership.\n\nBut none did so; instead, they drew away as he approached, and\npresently the whole pack moved off into the jungle, and Tarzan was left\nalone once more upon the beach.\n\nThe ape-man was sore from the wounds that Molak had inflicted upon him,\nbut he was inured to physical suffering and endured it with the calm\nand fortitude of the wild beasts that had taught him to lead the jungle\nlife after the manner of all those that are born to it.\n\nHis first need, he realized, was for weapons of offence and defence,\nfor his encounter with the apes, and the distant notes of the savage\nvoices of Numa the lion, and Sheeta, the panther, warned him that his\nwas to be no life of indolent ease and security.\n\nIt was but a return to the old existence of constant bloodshed and\ndanger--to the hunting and the being hunted.  Grim beasts would stalk\nhim, as they had stalked him in the past, and never would there be a\nmoment, by savage day or by cruel night, that he might not have instant\nneed of such crude weapons as he could fashion from the materials at\nhand.\n\nUpon the shore he found an out-cropping of brittle, igneous rock.  By\ndint of much labour he managed to chip off a narrow sliver some twelve\ninches long by a quarter of an inch thick.  One edge was quite thin for\na few inches near the tip.  It was the rudiment of a knife.\n\nWith it he went into the jungle, searching until he found a fallen tree\nof a certain species of hardwood with which he was familiar.  From this\nhe cut a small straight branch, which he pointed at one end.\n\nThen he scooped a small, round hole in the surface of the prostrate\ntrunk.  Into this he crumbled a few bits of dry bark, minutely\nshredded, after which he inserted the tip of his pointed stick, and,\nsitting astride the bole of the tree, spun the slender rod rapidly\nbetween his palms.\n\nAfter a time a thin smoke rose from the little mass of tinder, and a\nmoment later the whole broke into flame.   Heaping some larger twigs\nand sticks upon the tiny fire, Tarzan soon had quite a respectable\nblaze roaring in the enlarging cavity of the dead tree.\n\nInto this he thrust the blade of his stone knife, and as it became\nsuperheated he would withdraw it, touching a spot near the thin edge\nwith a drop of moisture.  Beneath the wetted area a little flake of the\nglassy material would crack and scale away.\n\nThus, very slowly, the ape-man commenced the tedious operation of\nputting a thin edge upon his primitive hunting-knife.\n\nHe did not attempt to accomplish the feat all in one sitting.  At first\nhe was content to achieve a cutting edge of a couple of inches, with\nwhich he cut a long, pliable bow, a handle for his knife, a stout\ncudgel, and a goodly supply of arrows.\n\nThese he cached in a tall tree beside a little stream, and here also he\nconstructed a platform with a roof of palm-leaves above it.\n\nWhen all these things had been finished it was growing dusk, and Tarzan\nfelt a strong desire to eat.\n\nHe had noted during the brief incursion he had made into the forest\nthat a short distance up-stream from his tree there was a much-used\nwatering place, where, from the trampled mud of either bank, it was\nevident beasts of all sorts and in great numbers came to drink.  To\nthis spot the hungry ape-man made his silent way.\n\nThrough the upper terrace of the tree-tops he swung with the grace and\nease of a monkey.  But for the heavy burden upon his heart he would\nhave been happy in this return to the old free life of his boyhood.\n\nYet even with that burden he fell into the little habits and manners of\nhis early life that were in reality more a part of him than the thin\nveneer of civilization that the past three years of his association\nwith the white men of the outer world had spread lightly over him--a\nveneer that only hid the crudities of the beast that Tarzan of the Apes\nhad been.\n\nCould his fellow-peers of the House of Lords have seen him then they\nwould have held up their noble hands in holy horror.\n\nSilently he crouched in the lower branches of a great forest giant that\noverhung the trail, his keen eyes and sensitive ears strained into the\ndistant jungle, from which he knew his dinner would presently emerge.\n\nNor had he long to wait.\n\nScarce had he settled himself to a comfortable position, his lithe,\nmuscular legs drawn well up beneath him as the panther draws his\nhindquarters in preparation for the spring, than Bara, the deer, came\ndaintily down to drink.\n\nBut more than Bara was coming.  Behind the graceful buck came another\nwhich the deer could neither see nor scent, but whose movements were\napparent to Tarzan of the Apes because of the elevated position of the\nape-man's ambush.\n\nHe knew not yet exactly the nature of the thing that moved so\nstealthily through the jungle a few hundred yards behind the deer; but\nhe was convinced that it was some great beast of prey stalking Bara for\nthe selfsame purpose as that which prompted him to await the fleet\nanimal.  Numa, perhaps, or Sheeta, the panther.\n\nIn any event, Tarzan could see his repast slipping from his grasp\nunless Bara moved more rapidly toward the ford than at present.\n\nEven as these thoughts passed through his mind some noise of the\nstalker in his rear must have come to the buck, for with a sudden start\nhe paused for an instant, trembling, in his tracks, and then with a\nswift bound dashed straight for the river and Tarzan.  It was his\nintention to flee through the shallow ford and escape upon the opposite\nside of the river.\n\nNot a hundred yards behind him came Numa.\n\nTarzan could see him quite plainly now.  Below the ape-man Bara was\nabout to pass.  Could he do it?  But even as he asked himself the\nquestion the hungry man launched himself from his perch full upon the\nback of the startled buck.\n\nIn another instant Numa would be upon them both, so if the ape-man were\nto dine that night, or ever again, he must act quickly.\n\nScarcely had he touched the sleek hide of the deer with a momentum that\nsent the animal to its knees than he had grasped a horn in either hand,\nand with a single quick wrench twisted the animal's neck completely\nround, until he felt the vertebrae snap beneath his grip.\n\nThe lion was roaring in rage close behind him as he swung the deer\nacross his shoulder, and, grasping a foreleg between his strong teeth,\nleaped for the nearest of the lower branches that swung above his head.\n\nWith both hands he grasped the limb, and, at the instant that Numa\nsprang, drew himself and his prey out of reach of the animal's cruel\ntalons.\n\nThere was a thud below him as the baffled cat fell back to earth, and\nthen Tarzan of the Apes, drawing his dinner farther up to the safety of\na higher limb, looked down with grinning face into the gleaming yellow\neyes of the other wild beast that glared up at him from beneath, and\nwith taunting insults flaunted the tender carcass of his kill in the\nface of him whom he had cheated of it.\n\nWith his crude stone knife he cut a juicy steak from the hindquarters,\nand while the great lion paced, growling, back and forth below him,\nLord Greystoke filled his savage belly, nor ever in the choicest of his\nexclusive London clubs had a meal tasted more palatable.\n\nThe warm blood of his kill smeared his hands and face and filled his\nnostrils with the scent that the savage carnivora love best.\n\nAnd when he had finished he left the balance of the carcass in a high\nfork of the tree where he had dined, and with Numa trailing below him,\nstill keen for revenge, he made his way back to his tree-top shelter,\nwhere he slept until the sun was high the following morning.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\nSheeta\n\n\nThe next few days were occupied by Tarzan in completing his weapons and\nexploring the jungle.  He strung his bow with tendons from the buck\nupon which he had dined his first evening upon the new shore, and\nthough he would have preferred the gut of Sheeta for the purpose, he\nwas content to wait until opportunity permitted him to kill one of the\ngreat cats.\n\nHe also braided a long grass rope--such a rope as he had used so many\nyears before to tantalize the ill-natured Tublat, and which later had\ndeveloped into a wondrous effective weapon in the practised hands of\nthe little ape-boy.\n\nA sheath and handle for his hunting-knife he fashioned, and a quiver\nfor arrows, and from the hide of Bara a belt and loin-cloth.  Then he\nset out to learn something of the strange land in which he found\nhimself.  That it was not his old familiar west coast of the African\ncontinent he knew from the fact that it faced east--the rising sun came\nup out of the sea before the threshold of the jungle.\n\nBut that it was not the east coast of Africa he was equally positive,\nfor he felt satisfied that the Kincaid had not passed through the\nMediterranean, the Suez Canal, and the Red Sea, nor had she had time to\nround the Cape of Good Hope.  So he was quite at a loss to know where\nhe might be.\n\nSometimes he wondered if the ship had crossed the broad Atlantic to\ndeposit him upon some wild South American shore; but the presence of\nNuma, the lion, decided him that such could not be the case.\n\nAs Tarzan made his lonely way through the jungle paralleling the shore,\nhe felt strong upon him a desire for companionship, so that gradually\nhe commenced to regret that he had not cast his lot with the apes.  He\nhad seen nothing of them since that first day, when the influences of\ncivilization were still paramount within him.\n\nNow he was more nearly returned to the Tarzan of old, and though he\nappreciated the fact that there could be little in common between\nhimself and the great anthropoids, still they were better than no\ncompany at all.\n\nMoving leisurely, sometimes upon the ground and again among the lower\nbranches of the trees, gathering an occasional fruit or turning over a\nfallen log in search of the larger bugs, which he still found as\npalatable as of old, Tarzan had covered a mile or more when his\nattention was attracted by the scent of Sheeta up-wind ahead of him.\n\nNow Sheeta, the panther, was one whom Tarzan was exceptionally glad\nto fall in with, for he had it in mind not only to utilize the great\ncat's strong gut for his bow, but also to fashion a new quiver and\nloin-cloth from pieces of his hide.   So, whereas the ape-man had gone\ncarelessly before, he now became the personification of noiseless\nstealth.\n\nSwiftly and silently he glided through the forest in the wake of the\nsavage cat, nor was the pursuer, for all his noble birth, one whit less\nsavage than the wild, fierce thing he stalked.\n\nAs he came closer to Sheeta he became aware that the panther on his\npart was stalking game of his own, and even as he realized this fact\nthere came to his nostrils, wafted from his right by a vagrant breeze,\nthe strong odour of a company of great apes.\n\nThe panther had taken to a large tree as Tarzan came within sight of\nhim, and beyond and below him Tarzan saw the tribe of Akut lolling in a\nlittle, natural clearing.  Some of them were dozing against the boles\nof trees, while others roamed about turning over bits of bark from\nbeneath which they transferred the luscious grubs and beetles to their\nmouths.\n\nAkut was the closest to Sheeta.\n\nThe great cat lay crouched upon a thick limb, hidden from the ape's\nview by dense foliage, waiting patiently until the anthropoid should\ncome within range of his spring.\n\nTarzan cautiously gained a position in the same tree with the panther\nand a little above him.  In his left hand he grasped his slim stone\nblade.  He would have preferred to use his noose, but the foliage\nsurrounding the huge cat precluded the possibility of an accurate throw\nwith the rope.\n\nAkut had now wandered quite close beneath the tree wherein lay the\nwaiting death.  Sheeta slowly edged his hind paws along the branch\nstill further beneath him, and then with a hideous shriek he launched\nhimself toward the great ape.   The barest fraction of a second before\nhis spring another beast of prey above him leaped, its weird and savage\ncry mingling with his.\n\nAs the startled Akut looked up he saw the panther almost above him, and\nalready upon the panther's back the white ape that had bested him that\nday near the great water.\n\nThe teeth of the ape-man were buried in the back of Sheeta's neck and\nhis right arm was round the fierce throat, while the left hand,\ngrasping a slender piece of stone, rose and fell in mighty blows upon\nthe panther's side behind the left shoulder.\n\nAkut had just time to leap to one side to avoid being pinioned beneath\nthese battling monsters of the jungle.\n\nWith a crash they came to earth at his feet.  Sheeta was screaming,\nsnarling, and roaring horribly; but the white ape clung tenaciously and\nin silence to the thrashing body of his quarry.\n\nSteadily and remorselessly the stone knife was driven home through the\nglossy hide--time and again it drank deep, until with a final agonized\nlunge and shriek the great feline rolled over upon its side and, save\nfor the spasmodic jerking of its muscles, lay quiet and still in death.\n\nThen the ape-man raised his head, as he stood over the carcass of his\nkill, and once again through the jungle rang his wild and savage\nvictory challenge.\n\nAkut and the apes of Akut stood looking in startled wonder at the dead\nbody of Sheeta and the lithe, straight figure of the man who had slain\nhim.\n\nTarzan was the first to speak.\n\nHe had saved Akut's life for a purpose, and, knowing the limitations of\nthe ape intellect, he also knew that he must make this purpose plain to\nthe anthropoid if it were to serve him in the way he hoped.\n\n\"I am Tarzan of the Apes,\" he said, \"Mighty hunter.  Mighty fighter.\nBy the great water I spared Akut's life when I might have taken it and\nbecome king of the tribe of Akut.  Now I have saved Akut from death\nbeneath the rending fangs of Sheeta.\n\n\"When Akut or the tribe of Akut is in danger, let them call to Tarzan\nthus\"--and the ape-man raised the hideous cry with which the tribe of\nKerchak had been wont to summon its absent members in times of peril.\n\n\"And,\" he continued, \"when they hear Tarzan call to them, let them\nremember what he has done for Akut and come to him with great speed.\nShall it be as Tarzan says?\"\n\n\"Huh!\" assented Akut, and from the members of his tribe there rose a\nunanimous \"Huh.\"\n\nThen, presently, they went to feeding again as though nothing had\nhappened, and with them fed John Clayton, Lord Greystoke.\n\nHe noticed, however, that Akut kept always close to him, and was often\nlooking at him with a strange wonder in his little bloodshot eyes, and\nonce he did a thing that Tarzan during all his long years among the\napes had never before seen an ape do--he found a particularly tender\nmorsel and handed it to Tarzan.\n\nAs the tribe hunted, the glistening body of the ape-man mingled with\nthe brown, shaggy hides of his companions.   Oftentimes they brushed\ntogether in passing, but the apes had already taken his presence for\ngranted, so that he was as much one of them as Akut himself.\n\nIf he came too close to a she with a young baby, the former would bare\nher great fighting fangs and growl ominously, and occasionally a\ntruculent young bull would snarl a warning if Tarzan approached while\nthe former was eating.  But in those things the treatment was no\ndifferent from that which they accorded any other member of the tribe.\n\nTarzan on his part felt very much at home with these fierce, hairy\nprogenitors of primitive man.  He skipped nimbly out of reach of each\nthreatening female--for such is the way of apes, if they be not in one\nof their occasional fits of bestial rage--and he growled back at the\ntruculent young bulls, baring his canine teeth even as they.  Thus\neasily he fell back into the way of his early life, nor did it seem\nthat he had ever tasted association with creatures of his own kind.\n\nFor the better part of a week he roamed the jungle with his new\nfriends, partly because of a desire for companionship and partially\nthrough a well-laid plan to impress himself indelibly upon their\nmemories, which at best are none too long; for Tarzan from past\nexperience knew that it might serve him in good stead to have a tribe\nof these powerful and terrible beasts at his call.\n\nWhen he was convinced that he had succeeded to some extent in fixing\nhis identity upon them he decided to again take up his exploration.  To\nthis end he set out toward the north early one day, and, keeping\nparallel with the shore, travelled rapidly until almost nightfall.\n\nWhen the sun rose the next morning he saw that it lay almost directly\nto his right as he stood upon the beach instead of straight out across\nthe water as heretofore, and so he reasoned that the shore line had\ntrended toward the west.   All the second day he continued his rapid\ncourse, and when Tarzan of the Apes sought speed, he passed through the\nmiddle terrace of the forest with the rapidity of a squirrel.\n\nThat night the sun set straight out across the water opposite the land,\nand then the ape-man guessed at last the truth that he had been\nsuspecting.\n\nRokoff had set him ashore upon an island.\n\nHe might have known it!  If there was any plan that would render his\nposition more harrowing he should have known that such would be the one\nadopted by the Russian, and what could be more terrible than to leave\nhim to a lifetime of suspense upon an uninhabited island?\n\nRokoff doubtless had sailed directly to the mainland, where it would be\na comparatively easy thing for him to find the means of delivering the\ninfant Jack into the hands of the cruel and savage foster-parents, who,\nas his note had threatened, would have the upbringing of the child.\n\nTarzan shuddered as he thought of the cruel suffering the little one\nmust endure in such a life, even though he might fall into the hands of\nindividuals whose intentions toward him were of the kindest.  The\nape-man had had sufficient experience with the lower savages of Africa\nto know that even there may be found the cruder virtues of charity and\nhumanity; but their lives were at best but a series of terrible\nprivations, dangers, and sufferings.\n\nThen there was the horrid after-fate that awaited the child as he grew\nto manhood.  The horrible practices that would form a part of his\nlife-training would alone be sufficient to bar him forever from\nassociation with those of his own race and station in life.\n\nA cannibal!  His little boy a savage man-eater!  It was too horrible to\ncontemplate.\n\nThe filed teeth, the slit nose, the little face painted hideously.\nTarzan groaned.  Could he but feel the throat of the Russ fiend beneath\nhis steel fingers!\n\nAnd Jane!\n\nWhat tortures of doubt and fear and uncertainty she must be suffering.\nHe felt that his position was infinitely less terrible than hers, for\nhe at least knew that one of his loved ones was safe at home, while she\nhad no idea of the whereabouts of either her husband or her son.\n\nIt is well for Tarzan that he did not guess the truth, for the\nknowledge would have but added a hundredfold to his suffering.\n\nAs he moved slowly through the jungle his mind absorbed by his gloomy\nthoughts, there presently came to his ears a strange scratching sound\nwhich he could not translate.\n\nCautiously he moved in the direction from which it emanated, presently\ncoming upon a huge panther pinned beneath a fallen tree.\n\nAs Tarzan approached, the beast turned, snarling, toward him,\nstruggling to extricate itself; but one great limb across its back and\nthe smaller entangling branches pinioning its legs prevented it from\nmoving but a few inches in any direction.\n\nThe ape-man stood before the helpless cat fitting an arrow to his bow\nthat he might dispatch the beast that otherwise must die of starvation;\nbut even as he drew back the shaft a sudden whim stayed his hand.\n\nWhy rob the poor creature of life and liberty, when it would be so easy\na thing to restore both to it!  He was sure from the fact that the\npanther moved all its limbs in its futile struggle for freedom that its\nspine was uninjured, and for the same reason he knew that none of its\nlimbs were broken.\n\nRelaxing his bowstring, he returned the arrow to the quiver and,\nthrowing the bow about his shoulder, stepped closer to the pinioned\nbeast.\n\nOn his lips was the soothing, purring sound that the great cats\nthemselves made when contented and happy.  It was the nearest approach\nto a friendly advance that Tarzan could make in the language of Sheeta.\n\nThe panther ceased his snarling and eyed the ape-man closely.   To lift\nthe tree's great weight from the animal it was necessary to come within\nreach of those long, strong talons, and when the tree had been removed\nthe man would be totally at the mercy of the savage beast; but to\nTarzan of the Apes fear was a thing unknown.\n\nHaving decided, he acted promptly.\n\nUnhesitatingly, he stepped into the tangle of branches close to the\npanther's side, still voicing his friendly and conciliatory purr.  The\ncat turned his head toward the man, eyeing him steadily--questioningly.\nThe long fangs were bared, but more in preparedness than threat.\n\nTarzan put a broad shoulder beneath the bole of the tree, and as he did\nso his bare leg pressed against the cat's silken side, so close was the\nman to the great beast.\n\nSlowly Tarzan extended his giant thews.\n\nThe great tree with its entangling branches rose gradually from the\npanther, who, feeling the encumbering weight diminish, quickly crawled\nfrom beneath.  Tarzan let the tree fall back to earth, and the two\nbeasts turned to look upon one another.\n\nA grim smile lay upon the ape-man's lips, for he knew that he had taken\nhis life in his hands to free this savage jungle fellow; nor would it\nhave surprised him had the cat sprung upon him the instant that it had\nbeen released.\n\nBut it did not do so.  Instead, it stood a few paces from the tree\nwatching the ape-man clamber out of the maze of fallen branches.\n\nOnce outside, Tarzan was not three paces from the panther.   He might\nhave taken to the higher branches of the trees upon the opposite side,\nfor Sheeta cannot climb to the heights to which the ape-man can go; but\nsomething, a spirit of bravado perhaps, prompted him to approach the\npanther as though to discover if any feeling of gratitude would prompt\nthe beast to friendliness.\n\nAs he approached the mighty cat the creature stepped warily to one\nside, and the ape-man brushed past him within a foot of the dripping\njaws, and as he continued on through the forest the panther followed on\nbehind him, as a hound follows at heel.\n\nFor a long time Tarzan could not tell whether the beast was following\nout of friendly feelings or merely stalking him against the time he\nshould be hungry; but finally he was forced to believe that the former\nincentive it was that prompted the animal's action.\n\nLater in the day the scent of a deer sent Tarzan into the trees, and\nwhen he had dropped his noose about the animal's neck he called to\nSheeta, using a purr similar to that which he had utilized to pacify\nthe brute's suspicions earlier in the day, but a trifle louder and more\nshrill.\n\nIt was similar to that which he had heard panthers use after a kill\nwhen they had been hunting in pairs.\n\nAlmost immediately there was a crashing of the underbrush close at\nhand, and the long, lithe body of his strange companion broke into view.\n\nAt sight of the body of Bara and the smell of blood the panther gave\nforth a shrill scream, and a moment later two beasts were feeding side\nby side upon the tender meat of the deer.\n\nFor several days this strangely assorted pair roamed the jungle\ntogether.\n\nWhen one made a kill he called the other, and thus they fed well and\noften.\n\nOn one occasion as they were dining upon the carcass of a boar that\nSheeta had dispatched, Numa, the lion, grim and terrible, broke through\nthe tangled grasses close beside them.\n\nWith an angry, warning roar he sprang forward to chase them from their\nkill.  Sheeta bounded into a near-by thicket, while Tarzan took to the\nlow branches of an overhanging tree.\n\nHere the ape-man unloosed his grass rope from about his neck, and as\nNuma stood above the body of the boar, challenging head erect, he\ndropped the sinuous noose about the maned neck, drawing the stout\nstrands taut with a sudden jerk.   At the same time he called shrilly\nto Sheeta, as he drew the struggling lion upward until only his hind\nfeet touched the ground.\n\nQuickly he made the rope fast to a stout branch, and as the panther, in\nanswer to his summons, leaped into sight, Tarzan dropped to the earth\nbeside the struggling and infuriated Numa, and with a long sharp knife\nsprang upon him at one side even as Sheeta did upon the other.\n\nThe panther tore and rent Numa upon the right, while the ape-man struck\nhome with his stone knife upon the other, so that before the mighty\nclawing of the king of beasts had succeeded in parting the rope he hung\nquite dead and harmless in the noose.\n\nAnd then upon the jungle air there rose in unison from two savage\nthroats the victory cry of the bull-ape and the panther, blended into\none frightful and uncanny scream.\n\nAs the last notes died away in a long-drawn, fearsome wail, a score of\npainted warriors, drawing their long war-canoe upon the beach, halted\nto stare in the direction of the jungle and to listen.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\nMugambi\n\n\nBy the time that Tarzan had travelled entirely about the coast of the\nisland, and made several trips inland from various points, he was sure\nthat he was the only human being upon it.\n\nNowhere had he found any sign that men had stopped even temporarily\nupon this shore, though, of course, he knew that so quickly does the\nrank vegetation of the tropics erase all but the most permanent of\nhuman monuments that he might be in error in his deductions.\n\nThe day following the killing of Numa, Tarzan and Sheeta came upon the\ntribe of Akut.  At sight of the panther the great apes took to flight,\nbut after a time Tarzan succeeded in recalling them.\n\nIt had occurred to him that it would be at least an interesting\nexperiment to attempt to reconcile these hereditary enemies.  He\nwelcomed anything that would occupy his time and his mind beyond the\nfilling of his belly and the gloomy thoughts to which he fell prey the\nmoment that he became idle.\n\nTo communicate his plan to the apes was not a particularly difficult\nmatter, though their narrow and limited vocabulary was strained in the\neffort; but to impress upon the little, wicked brain of Sheeta that he\nwas to hunt with and not for his legitimate prey proved a task almost\nbeyond the powers of the ape-man.\n\nTarzan, among his other weapons, possessed a long, stout cudgel, and\nafter fastening his rope about the panther's neck he used this\ninstrument freely upon the snarling beast, endeavouring in this way to\nimpress upon its memory that it must not attack the great, shaggy\nmanlike creatures that had approached more closely once they had seen\nthe purpose of the rope about Sheeta's neck.\n\nThat the cat did not turn and rend Tarzan is something of a miracle\nwhich may possibly be accounted for by the fact that twice when it\nturned growling upon the ape-man he had rapped it sharply upon its\nsensitive nose, inculcating in its mind thereby a most wholesome fear\nof the cudgel and the ape-beasts behind it.\n\nIt is a question if the original cause of his attachment for Tarzan was\nstill at all clear in the mind of the panther, though doubtless some\nsubconscious suggestion, superinduced by this primary reason and aided\nand abetted by the habit of the past few days, did much to compel the\nbeast to tolerate treatment at his hands that would have sent it at the\nthroat of any other creature.\n\nThen, too, there was the compelling force of the manmind exerting its\npowerful influence over this creature of a lower order, and, after all,\nit may have been this that proved the most potent factor in Tarzan's\nsupremacy over Sheeta and the other beasts of the jungle that had from\ntime to time fallen under his domination.\n\nBe that as it may, for days the man, the panther, and the great apes\nroamed their savage haunts side by side, making their kills together\nand sharing them with one another, and of all the fierce and savage\nband none was more terrible than the smooth-skinned, powerful beast\nthat had been but a few short months before a familiar figure in many a\nLondon drawing room.\n\nSometimes the beasts separated to follow their own inclinations for an\nhour or a day, and it was upon one of these occasions when the ape-man\nhad wandered through the tree-tops toward the beach, and was stretched\nin the hot sun upon the sand, that from the low summit of a near-by\npromontory a pair of keen eyes discovered him.\n\nFor a moment the owner of the eyes looked in astonishment at the figure\nof the savage white man basking in the rays of that hot, tropic sun;\nthen he turned, making a sign to some one behind him.  Presently\nanother pair of eyes were looking down upon the ape-man, and then\nanother and another, until a full score of hideously trapped, savage\nwarriors were lying upon their bellies along the crest of the ridge\nwatching the white-skinned stranger.\n\nThey were down wind from Tarzan, and so their scent was not carried to\nhim, and as his back was turned half toward them he did not see their\ncautious advance over the edge of the promontory and down through the\nrank grass toward the sandy beach where he lay.\n\nBig fellows they were, all of them, their barbaric headdresses and\ngrotesquely painted faces, together with their many metal ornaments and\ngorgeously coloured feathers, adding to their wild, fierce appearance.\n\nOnce at the foot of the ridge, they came cautiously to their feet, and,\nbent half-double, advanced silently upon the unconscious white man,\ntheir heavy war-clubs swinging menacingly in their brawny hands.\n\nThe mental suffering that Tarzan's sorrowful thoughts induced had the\neffect of numbing his keen, perceptive faculties, so that the advancing\nsavages were almost upon him before he became aware that he was no\nlonger alone upon the beach.\n\nSo quickly, though, were his mind and muscles wont to react in unison\nto the slightest alarm that he was upon his feet and facing his\nenemies, even as he realized that something was behind him.  As he\nsprang to his feet the warriors leaped toward him with raised clubs and\nsavage yells, but the foremost went down to sudden death beneath the\nlong, stout stick of the ape-man, and then the lithe, sinewy figure was\namong them, striking right and left with a fury, power, and precision\nthat brought panic to the ranks of the blacks.\n\nFor a moment they withdrew, those that were left of them, and consulted\ntogether at a short distance from the ape-man, who stood with folded\narms, a half-smile upon his handsome face, watching them.  Presently\nthey advanced upon him once more, this time wielding their heavy\nwar-spears.  They were between Tarzan and the jungle, in a little\nsemicircle that closed in upon him as they advanced.\n\nThere seemed to the ape-man but slight chance to escape the final\ncharge when all the great spears should be hurled simultaneously at\nhim; but if he had desired to escape there was no way other than\nthrough the ranks of the savages except the open sea behind him.\n\nHis predicament was indeed most serious when an idea occurred to him\nthat altered his smile to a broad grin.   The warriors were still some\nlittle distance away, advancing slowly, making, after the manner of\ntheir kind, a frightful din with their savage yells and the pounding of\ntheir naked feet upon the ground as they leaped up and down in a\nfantastic war dance.\n\nThen it was that the ape-man lifted his voice in a series of wild,\nweird screams that brought the blacks to a sudden, perplexed halt.\nThey looked at one another questioningly, for here was a sound so\nhideous that their own frightful din faded into insignificance beside\nit.  No human throat could have formed those bestial notes, they were\nsure, and yet with their own eyes they had seen this white man open his\nmouth to pour forth his awful cry.\n\nBut only for a moment they hesitated, and then with one accord they\nagain took up their fantastic advance upon their prey; but even then a\nsudden crashing in the jungle behind them brought them once more to a\nhalt, and as they turned to look in the direction of this new noise\nthere broke upon their startled visions a sight that may well have\nfrozen the blood of braver men than the Wagambi.\n\nLeaping from the tangled vegetation of the jungle's rim came a huge\npanther, with blazing eyes and bared fangs, and in his wake a score of\nmighty, shaggy apes lumbering rapidly toward them, half erect upon\ntheir short, bowed legs, and with their long arms reaching to the\nground, where their horny knuckles bore the weight of their ponderous\nbodies as they lurched from side to side in their grotesque advance.\n\nThe beasts of Tarzan had come in answer to his call.\n\nBefore the Wagambi could recover from their astonishment the frightful\nhorde was upon them from one side and Tarzan of the Apes from the\nother.  Heavy spears were hurled and mighty war-clubs wielded, and\nthough apes went down never to rise, so, too, went down the men of\nUgambi.\n\nSheeta's cruel fangs and tearing talons ripped and tore at the black\nhides.  Akut's mighty yellow tusks found the jugular of more than one\nsleek-skinned savage, and Tarzan of the Apes was here and there and\neverywhere, urging on his fierce allies and taking a heavy toll with\nhis long, slim knife.\n\nIn a moment the blacks had scattered for their lives, but of the score\nthat had crept down the grassy sides of the promontory only a single\nwarrior managed to escape the horde that had overwhelmed his people.\n\nThis one was Mugambi, chief of the Wagambi of Ugambi, and as he\ndisappeared in the tangled luxuriousness of the rank growth upon the\nridge's summit only the keen eyes of the ape-man saw the direction of\nhis flight.\n\nLeaving his pack to eat their fill upon the flesh of their\nvictims--flesh that he could not touch--Tarzan of the Apes pursued the\nsingle survivor of the bloody fray.  Just beyond the ridge he came\nwithin sight of the fleeing black, making with headlong leaps for a\nlong war-canoe that was drawn well up upon the beach above the high\ntide surf.\n\nNoiseless as the fellow's shadow, the ape-man raced after the\nterror-stricken black.  In the white man's mind was a new plan,\nawakened by sight of the war-canoe.  If these men had come to his\nisland from another, or from the mainland, why not utilize their craft\nto make his way to the country from which they had come?  Evidently it\nwas an inhabited country, and no doubt had occasional intercourse with\nthe mainland, if it were not itself upon the continent of Africa.\n\nA heavy hand fell upon the shoulder of the escaping Mugambi before he\nwas aware that he was being pursued, and as he turned to do battle with\nhis assailant giant fingers closed about his wrists and he was hurled\nto earth with a giant astride him before he could strike a blow in his\nown defence.\n\nIn the language of the West Coast, Tarzan spoke to the prostrate man\nbeneath him.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Mugambi, chief of the Wagambi,\" replied the black.\n\n\"I will spare your life,\" said Tarzan, \"if you will promise to help me\nto leave this island.  What do you answer?\"\n\n\"I will help you,\" replied Mugambi.  \"But now that you have killed all\nmy warriors, I do not know that even I can leave your country, for\nthere will be none to wield the paddles, and without paddlers we cannot\ncross the water.\"\n\nTarzan rose and allowed his prisoner to come to his feet.   The fellow\nwas a magnificent specimen of manhood--a black counterpart in physique\nof the splendid white man whom he faced.\n\n\"Come!\" said the ape-man, and started back in the direction from which\nthey could hear the snarling and growling of the feasting pack.\nMugambi drew back.\n\n\"They will kill us,\" he said.\n\n\"I think not,\" replied Tarzan.  \"They are mine.\"\n\nStill the black hesitated, fearful of the consequences of approaching\nthe terrible creatures that were dining upon the bodies of his\nwarriors; but Tarzan forced him to accompany him, and presently the two\nemerged from the jungle in full view of the grisly spectacle upon the\nbeach.  At sight of the men the beasts looked up with menacing growls,\nbut Tarzan strode in among them, dragging the trembling Wagambi with\nhim.\n\nAs he had taught the apes to accept Sheeta, so he taught them to adopt\nMugambi as well, and much more easily; but Sheeta seemed quite unable\nto understand that though he had been called upon to devour Mugambi's\nwarriors he was not to be allowed to proceed after the same fashion\nwith Mugambi.   However, being well filled, he contented himself with\nwalking round the terror-stricken savage, emitting low, menacing growls\nthe while he kept his flaming, baleful eyes riveted upon the black.\n\nMugambi, on his part, clung closely to Tarzan, so that the ape-man\ncould scarce control his laughter at the pitiable condition to which\nthe chief's fear had reduced him; but at length the white took the\ngreat cat by the scruff of the neck and, dragging it quite close to the\nWagambi, slapped it sharply upon the nose each time that it growled at\nthe stranger.\n\nAt the sight of the thing--a man mauling with his bare hands one of the\nmost relentless and fierce of the jungle carnivora--Mugambi's eyes\nbulged from their sockets, and from entertaining a sullen respect for\nthe giant white man who had made him prisoner, the black felt an almost\nworshipping awe of Tarzan.\n\nThe education of Sheeta progressed so well that in a short time Mugambi\nceased to be the object of his hungry attention, and the black felt a\ndegree more of safety in his society.\n\nTo say that Mugambi was entirely happy or at ease in his new\nenvironment would not be to adhere strictly to the truth.  His eyes\nwere constantly rolling apprehensively from side to side as now one and\nnow another of the fierce pack chanced to wander near him, so that for\nthe most of the time it was principally the whites that showed.\n\nTogether Tarzan and Mugambi, with Sheeta and Akut, lay in wait at the\nford for a deer, and when at a word from the ape-man the four of them\nleaped out upon the affrighted animal the black was sure that the poor\ncreature died of fright before ever one of the great beasts touched it.\n\nMugambi built a fire and cooked his portion of the kill; but Tarzan,\nSheeta, and Akut tore theirs, raw, with their sharp teeth, growling\namong themselves when one ventured to encroach upon the share of\nanother.\n\nIt was not, after all, strange that the white man's ways should have\nbeen so much more nearly related to those of the beasts than were the\nsavage blacks.  We are, all of us, creatures of habit, and when the\nseeming necessity for schooling ourselves in new ways ceases to exist,\nwe fall naturally and easily into the manners and customs which long\nusage has implanted ineradicably within us.\n\nMugambi from childhood had eaten no meat until it had been cooked,\nwhile Tarzan, on the other hand, had never tasted cooked food of any\nsort until he had grown almost to manhood, and only within the past\nthree or four years had he eaten cooked meat.  Not only did the habit\nof a lifetime prompt him to eat it raw, but the craving of his palate\nas well; for to him cooked flesh was spoiled flesh when compared with\nthe rich and juicy meat of a fresh, hot kill.\n\nThat he could, with relish, eat raw meat that had been buried by\nhimself weeks before, and enjoy small rodents and disgusting grubs,\nseems to us who have been always \"civilized\" a revolting fact; but had\nwe learned in childhood to eat these things, and had we seen all those\nabout us eat them, they would seem no more sickening to us now than do\nmany of our greatest dainties, at which a savage African cannibal would\nlook with repugnance and turn up his nose.\n\nFor instance, there is a tribe in the vicinity of Lake Rudolph that\nwill eat no sheep or cattle, though its next neighbors do so.  Near by\nis another tribe that eats donkey-meat--a custom most revolting to the\nsurrounding tribes that do not eat donkey.  So who may say that it is\nnice to eat snails and frogs' legs and oysters, but disgusting to feed\nupon grubs and beetles, or that a raw oyster, hoof, horns, and tail, is\nless revolting than the sweet, clean meat of a fresh-killed buck?\n\nThe next few days Tarzan devoted to the weaving of a barkcloth sail\nwith which to equip the canoe, for he despaired of being able to teach\nthe apes to wield the paddles, though he did manage to get several of\nthem to embark in the frail craft which he and Mugambi paddled about\ninside the reef where the water was quite smooth.\n\nDuring these trips he had placed paddles in their hands, when they\nattempted to imitate the movements of him and Mugambi, but so difficult\nis it for them long to concentrate upon a thing that he soon saw that\nit would require weeks of patient training before they would be able to\nmake any effective use of these new implements, if, in fact, they\nshould ever do so.\n\nThere was one exception, however, and he was Akut.  Almost from the\nfirst he showed an interest in this new sport that revealed a much\nhigher plane of intelligence than that attained by any of his tribe.\nHe seemed to grasp the purpose of the paddles, and when Tarzan saw that\nthis was so he took much pains to explain in the meagre language of the\nanthropoid how they might be used to the best advantage.\n\nFrom Mugambi Tarzan learned that the mainland lay but a short distance\nfrom the island.  It seemed that the Wagambi warriors had ventured too\nfar out in their frail craft, and when caught by a heavy tide and a\nhigh wind from off-shore they had been driven out of sight of land.\nAfter paddling for a whole night, thinking that they were headed for\nhome, they had seen this land at sunrise, and, still taking it for the\nmainland, had hailed it with joy, nor had Mugambi been aware that it\nwas an island until Tarzan had told him that this was the fact.\n\nThe Wagambi chief was quite dubious as to the sail, for he had never\nseen such a contrivance used.  His country lay far up the broad Ugambi\nRiver, and this was the first occasion that any of his people had found\ntheir way to the ocean.\n\nTarzan, however, was confident that with a good west wind he could\nnavigate the little craft to the mainland.  At any rate, he decided, it\nwould be preferable to perish on the way than to remain indefinitely\nupon this evidently uncharted island to which no ships might ever be\nexpected to come.\n\nAnd so it was that when the first fair wind rose he embarked upon his\ncruise, and with him he took as strange and fearsome a crew as ever\nsailed under a savage master.\n\nMugambi and Akut went with him, and Sheeta, the panther, and a dozen\ngreat males of the tribe of Akut.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\nA Hideous Crew\n\n\nThe war-canoe with its savage load moved slowly toward the break in the\nreef through which it must pass to gain the open sea.  Tarzan, Mugambi,\nand Akut wielded the paddles, for the shore kept the west wind from the\nlittle sail.\n\nSheeta crouched in the bow at the ape-man's feet, for it had seemed\nbest to Tarzan always to keep the wicked beast as far from the other\nmembers of the party as possible, since it would require little or no\nprovocation to send him at the throat of any than the white man, whom\nhe evidently now looked upon as his master.\n\nIn the stern was Mugambi, and just in front of him squatted Akut, while\nbetween Akut and Tarzan the twelve hairy apes sat upon their haunches,\nblinking dubiously this way and that, and now and then turning their\neyes longingly back toward shore.\n\nAll went well until the canoe had passed beyond the reef.   Here the\nbreeze struck the sail, sending the rude craft lunging among the waves\nthat ran higher and higher as they drew away from the shore.\n\nWith the tossing of the boat the apes became panic-stricken.  They\nfirst moved uneasily about, and then commenced grumbling and whining.\nWith difficulty Akut kept them in hand for a time; but when a\nparticularly large wave struck the dugout simultaneously with a little\nsquall of wind their terror broke all bounds, and, leaping to their\nfeet, they all but overturned the boat before Akut and Tarzan together\ncould quiet them.  At last calm was restored, and eventually the apes\nbecame accustomed to the strange antics of their craft, after which no\nmore trouble was experienced with them.\n\nThe trip was uneventful, the wind held, and after ten hours' steady\nsailing the black shadows of the coast loomed close before the\nstraining eyes of the ape-man in the bow.  It was far too dark to\ndistinguish whether they had approached close to the mouth of the\nUgambi or not, so Tarzan ran in through the surf at the closest point\nto await the dawn.\n\nThe dugout turned broadside the instant that its nose touched the sand,\nand immediately it rolled over, with all its crew scrambling madly for\nthe shore.  The next breaker rolled them over and over, but eventually\nthey all succeeded in crawling to safety, and in a moment more their\nungainly craft had been washed up beside them.\n\nThe balance of the night the apes sat huddled close to one another for\nwarmth; while Mugambi built a fire close to them over which he\ncrouched.  Tarzan and Sheeta, however, were of a different mind, for\nneither of them feared the jungle night, and the insistent craving of\ntheir hunger sent them off into the Stygian blackness of the forest in\nsearch of prey.\n\nSide by side they walked when there was room for two abreast.  At other\ntimes in single file, first one and then the other in advance.  It was\nTarzan who first caught the scent of meat--a bull buffalo--and\npresently the two came stealthily upon the sleeping beast in the midst\nof a dense jungle of reeds close to a river.\n\nCloser and closer they crept toward the unsuspecting beast, Sheeta upon\nhis right side and Tarzan upon his left nearest the great heart.  They\nhad hunted together now for some time, so that they worked in unison,\nwith only low, purring sounds as signals.\n\nFor a moment they lay quite silent near their prey, and then at a sign\nfrom the ape-man Sheeta sprang upon the great back, burying his strong\nteeth in the bull's neck.   Instantly the brute sprang to his feet with\na bellow of pain and rage, and at the same instant Tarzan rushed in\nupon his left side with the stone knife, striking repeatedly behind the\nshoulder.\n\nOne of the ape-man's hands clutched the thick mane, and as the bull\nraced madly through the reeds the thing striking at his life was\ndragged beside him.  Sheeta but clung tenaciously to his hold upon the\nneck and back, biting deep in an effort to reach the spine.\n\nFor several hundred yards the bellowing bull carried his two savage\nantagonists, until at last the blade found his heart, when with a final\nbellow that was half-scream he plunged headlong to the earth.  Then\nTarzan and Sheeta feasted to repletion.\n\nAfter the meal the two curled up together in a thicket, the man's black\nhead pillowed upon the tawny side of the panther.   Shortly after dawn\nthey awoke and ate again, and then returned to the beach that Tarzan\nmight lead the balance of the pack to the kill.\n\nWhen the meal was done the brutes were for curling up to sleep, so\nTarzan and Mugambi set off in search of the Ugambi River.   They had\nproceeded scarce a hundred yards when they came suddenly upon a broad\nstream, which the Negro instantly recognized as that down which he and\nhis warriors had paddled to the sea upon their ill-starred expedition.\n\nThe two now followed the stream down to the ocean, finding that it\nemptied into a bay not over a mile from the point upon the beach at\nwhich the canoe had been thrown the night before.\n\nTarzan was much elated by the discovery, as he knew that in the\nvicinity of a large watercourse he should find natives, and from some\nof these he had little doubt but that he should obtain news of Rokoff\nand the child, for he felt reasonably certain that the Russian would\nrid himself of the baby as quickly as possible after having disposed of\nTarzan.\n\nHe and Mugambi now righted and launched the dugout, though it was a\nmost difficult feat in the face of the surf which rolled continuously\nin upon the beach; but at last they were successful, and soon after\nwere paddling up the coast toward the mouth of the Ugambi.  Here they\nexperienced considerable difficulty in making an entrance against the\ncombined current and ebb tide, but by taking advantage of eddies close\nin to shore they came about dusk to a point nearly opposite the spot\nwhere they had left the pack asleep.\n\nMaking the craft fast to an overhanging bough, the two made their way\ninto the jungle, presently coming upon some of the apes feeding upon\nfruit a little beyond the reeds where the buffalo had fallen.  Sheeta\nwas not anywhere to be seen, nor did he return that night, so that\nTarzan came to believe that he had wandered away in search of his own\nkind.\n\nEarly the next morning the ape-man led his band down to the river, and\nas he walked he gave vent to a series of shrill cries.  Presently from\na great distance and faintly there came an answering scream, and a\nhalf-hour later the lithe form of Sheeta bounded into view where the\nothers of the pack were clambering gingerly into the canoe.\n\nThe great beast, with arched back and purring like a contented tabby,\nrubbed his sides against the ape-man, and then at a word from the\nlatter sprang lightly to his former place in the bow of the dugout.\n\nWhen all were in place it was discovered that two of the apes of Akut\nwere missing, and though both the king ape and Tarzan called to them\nfor the better part of an hour, there was no response, and finally the\nboat put off without them.   As it happened that the two missing ones\nwere the very same who had evinced the least desire to accompany the\nexpedition from the island, and had suffered the most from fright\nduring the voyage, Tarzan was quite sure that they had absented\nthemselves purposely rather than again enter the canoe.\n\nAs the party were putting in for the shore shortly after noon to search\nfor food a slender, naked savage watched them for a moment from behind\nthe dense screen of verdure which lined the river's bank, then he\nmelted away up-stream before any of those in the canoe discovered him.\n\nLike a deer he bounded along the narrow trail until, filled with the\nexcitement of his news, he burst into a native village several miles\nabove the point at which Tarzan and his pack had stopped to hunt.\n\n\"Another white man is coming!\" he cried to the chief who squatted\nbefore the entrance to his circular hut.   \"Another white man, and with\nhim are many warriors.   They come in a great war-canoe to kill and rob\nas did the black-bearded one who has just left us.\"\n\nKaviri leaped to his feet.  He had but recently had a taste of the\nwhite man's medicine, and his savage heart was filled with bitterness\nand hate.  In another moment the rumble of the war-drums rose from the\nvillage, calling in the hunters from the forest and the tillers from\nthe fields.\n\nSeven war-canoes were launched and manned by paint-daubed, befeathered\nwarriors.  Long spears bristled from the rude battle-ships, as they\nslid noiselessly over the bosom of the water, propelled by giant\nmuscles rolling beneath glistening, ebony hides.\n\nThere was no beating of tom-toms now, nor blare of native horn, for\nKaviri was a crafty warrior, and it was in his mind to take no chances,\nif they could be avoided.  He would swoop noiselessly down with his\nseven canoes upon the single one of the white man, and before the guns\nof the latter could inflict much damage upon his people he would have\noverwhelmed the enemy by force of numbers.\n\nKaviri's own canoe went in advance of the others a short distance, and\nas it rounded a sharp bend in the river where the swift current bore it\nrapidly on its way it came suddenly upon the thing that Kaviri sought.\n\nSo close were the two canoes to one another that the black had only an\nopportunity to note the white face in the bow of the oncoming craft\nbefore the two touched and his own men were upon their feet, yelling\nlike mad devils and thrusting their long spears at the occupants of the\nother canoe.\n\nBut a moment later, when Kaviri was able to realize the nature of the\ncrew that manned the white man's dugout, he would have given all the\nbeads and iron wire that he possessed to have been safely within his\ndistant village.   Scarcely had the two craft come together than the\nfrightful apes of Akut rose, growling and barking, from the bottom of\nthe canoe, and, with long, hairy arms far outstretched, grasped the\nmenacing spears from the hands of Kaviri's warriors.\n\nThe blacks were overcome with terror, but there was nothing to do other\nthan to fight.  Now came the other war-canoes rapidly down upon the two\ncraft.  Their occupants were eager to join the battle, for they thought\nthat their foes were white men and their native porters.\n\nThey swarmed about Tarzan's craft; but when they saw the nature of the\nenemy all but one turned and paddled swiftly up-river.   That one came\ntoo close to the ape-man's craft before its occupants realized that\ntheir fellows were pitted against demons instead of men.  As it touched\nTarzan spoke a few low words to Sheeta and Akut, so that before the\nattacking warriors could draw away there sprang upon them with a\nblood-freezing scream a huge panther, and into the other end of their\ncanoe clambered a great ape.\n\nAt one end the panther wrought fearful havoc with his mighty talons and\nlong, sharp fangs, while Akut at the other buried his yellow canines in\nthe necks of those that came within his reach, hurling the\nterror-stricken blacks overboard as he made his way toward the centre\nof the canoe.\n\nKaviri was so busily engaged with the demons that had entered his own\ncraft that he could offer no assistance to his warriors in the other.\nA giant of a white devil had wrested his spear from him as though he,\nthe mighty Kaviri, had been but a new-born babe.  Hairy monsters were\novercoming his fighting men, and a black chieftain like himself was\nfighting shoulder to shoulder with the hideous pack that opposed him.\n\nKaviri battled bravely against his antagonist, for he felt that death\nhad already claimed him, and so the least that he could do would be to\nsell his life as dearly as possible; but it was soon evident that his\nbest was quite futile when pitted against the superhuman brawn and\nagility of the creature that at last found his throat and bent him back\ninto the bottom of the canoe.\n\nPresently Kaviri's head began to whirl--objects became confused and dim\nbefore his eyes--there was a great pain in his chest as he struggled\nfor the breath of life that the thing upon him was shutting off for\never.  Then he lost consciousness.\n\nWhen he opened his eyes once more he found, much to his surprise, that\nhe was not dead.  He lay, securely bound, in the bottom of his own\ncanoe.  A great panther sat upon its haunches, looking down upon him.\n\nKaviri shuddered and closed his eyes again, waiting for the ferocious\ncreature to spring upon him and put him out of his misery of terror.\n\nAfter a moment, no rending fangs having buried themselves in his\ntrembling body, he again ventured to open his eyes.   Beyond the\npanther kneeled the white giant who had overcome him.\n\nThe man was wielding a paddle, while directly behind him Kaviri saw\nsome of his own warriors similarly engaged.   Back of them again\nsquatted several of the hairy apes.\n\nTarzan, seeing that the chief had regained consciousness, addressed him.\n\n\"Your warriors tell me that you are the chief of a numerous people, and\nthat your name is Kaviri,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the black.\n\n\"Why did you attack me?  I came in peace.\"\n\n\"Another white man 'came in peace' three moons ago,\" replied Kaviri;\n\"and after we had brought him presents of a goat and cassava and milk,\nhe set upon us with his guns and killed many of my people, and then\nwent on his way, taking all of our goats and many of our young men and\nwomen.\"\n\n\"I am not as this other white man,\" replied Tarzan.   \"I should not\nhave harmed you had you not set upon me.   Tell me, what was the face\nof this bad white man like?  I am searching for one who has wronged me.\nPossibly this may be the very one.\"\n\n\"He was a man with a bad face, covered with a great, black beard, and\nhe was very, very wicked--yes, very wicked indeed.\"\n\n\"Was there a little white child with him?\" asked Tarzan, his heart\nalmost stopped as he awaited the black's answer.\n\n\"No, bwana,\" replied Kaviri, \"the white child was not with this man's\nparty--it was with the other party.\"\n\n\"Other party!\" exclaimed Tarzan.  \"What other party?\"\n\n\"With the party that the very bad white man was pursuing.   There was a\nwhite man, woman, and the child, with six Mosula porters.  They passed\nup the river three days ahead of the very bad white man.  I think that\nthey were running away from him.\"\n\nA white man, woman, and child!  Tarzan was puzzled.  The child must be\nhis little Jack; but who could the woman be--and the man?  Was it\npossible that one of Rokoff's confederates had conspired with some\nwoman--who had accompanied the Russian--to steal the baby from him?\n\nIf this was the case, they had doubtless purposed returning the child\nto civilization and there either claiming a reward or holding the\nlittle prisoner for ransom.\n\nBut now that Rokoff had succeeded in chasing them far inland, up the\nsavage river, there could be little doubt but that he would eventually\noverhaul them, unless, as was still more probable, they should be\ncaptured and killed by the very cannibals farther up the Ugambi, to\nwhom, Tarzan was now convinced, it had been Rokoff's intention to\ndeliver the baby.\n\nAs he talked to Kaviri the canoes had been moving steadily up-river\ntoward the chief's village.  Kaviri's warriors plied the paddles in the\nthree canoes, casting sidelong, terrified glances at their hideous\npassengers.  Three of the apes of Akut had been killed in the\nencounter, but there were, with Akut, eight of the frightful beasts\nremaining, and there was Sheeta, the panther, and Tarzan and Mugambi.\n\nKaviri's warriors thought that they had never seen so terrible a crew\nin all their lives.  Momentarily they expected to be pounced upon and\ntorn asunder by some of their captors; and, in fact, it was all that\nTarzan and Mugambi and Akut could do to keep the snarling, ill-natured\nbrutes from snapping at the glistening, naked bodies that brushed\nagainst them now and then with the movements of the paddlers, whose\nvery fear added incitement to the beasts.\n\nAt Kaviri's camp Tarzan paused only long enough to eat the food that\nthe blacks furnished, and arrange with the chief for a dozen men to man\nthe paddles of his canoe.\n\nKaviri was only too glad to comply with any demands that the ape-man\nmight make if only such compliance would hasten the departure of the\nhorrid pack; but it was easier, he discovered, to promise men than to\nfurnish them, for when his people learned his intentions those that had\nnot already fled into the jungle proceeded to do so without loss of\ntime, so that when Kaviri turned to point out those who were to\naccompany Tarzan, he discovered that he was the only member of his\ntribe left within the village.\n\nTarzan could not repress a smile.\n\n\"They do not seem anxious to accompany us,\" he said; \"but just remain\nquietly here, Kaviri, and presently you shall see your people flocking\nto your side.\"\n\nThen the ape-man rose, and, calling his pack about him, commanded that\nMugambi remain with Kaviri, and disappeared in the jungle with Sheeta\nand the apes at his heels.\n\nFor half an hour the silence of the grim forest was broken only by the\nordinary sounds of the teeming life that but adds to its lowering\nloneliness.  Kaviri and Mugambi sat alone in the palisaded village,\nwaiting.\n\nPresently from a great distance came a hideous sound.   Mugambi\nrecognized the weird challenge of the ape-man.   Immediately from\ndifferent points of the compass rose a horrid semicircle of similar\nshrieks and screams, punctuated now and again by the blood-curdling cry\nof a hungry panther.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\nBetrayed\n\n\nThe two savages, Kaviri and Mugambi, squatting before the entrance to\nKaviri's hut, looked at one another--Kaviri with ill-concealed alarm.\n\n\"What is it?\" he whispered.\n\n\"It is Bwana Tarzan and his people,\" replied Mugambi.   \"But what they\nare doing I know not, unless it be that they are devouring your people\nwho ran away.\"\n\nKaviri shuddered and rolled his eyes fearfully toward the jungle.  In\nall his long life in the savage forest he had never heard such an\nawful, fearsome din.\n\nCloser and closer came the sounds, and now with them were mingled the\nterrified shrieks of women and children and of men.  For twenty long\nminutes the blood-curdling cries continued, until they seemed but a\nstone's throw from the palisade.  Kaviri rose to flee, but Mugambi\nseized and held him, for such had been the command of Tarzan.\n\nA moment later a horde of terrified natives burst from the jungle,\nracing toward the shelter of their huts.  Like frightened sheep they\nran, and behind them, driving them as sheep might be driven, came\nTarzan and Sheeta and the hideous apes of Akut.\n\nPresently Tarzan stood before Kaviri, the old quiet smile upon his lips.\n\n\"Your people have returned, my brother,\" he said, \"and now you may\nselect those who are to accompany me and paddle my canoe.\"\n\nTremblingly Kaviri tottered to his feet, calling to his people to come\nfrom their huts; but none responded to his summons.\n\n\"Tell them,\" suggested Tarzan, \"that if they do not come I shall send\nmy people in after them.\"\n\nKaviri did as he was bid, and in an instant the entire population of\nthe village came forth, their wide and frightened eyes rolling from one\nto another of the savage creatures that wandered about the village\nstreet.\n\nQuickly Kaviri designated a dozen warriors to accompany Tarzan.  The\npoor fellows went almost white with terror at the prospect of close\ncontact with the panther and the apes in the narrow confines of the\ncanoes; but when Kaviri explained to them that there was no\nescape--that Bwana Tarzan would pursue them with his grim horde should\nthey attempt to run away from the duty--they finally went gloomily down\nto the river and took their places in the canoe.\n\nIt was with a sigh of relief that their chieftain saw the party\ndisappear about a headland a short distance up-river.\n\nFor three days the strange company continued farther and farther into\nthe heart of the savage country that lies on either side of the almost\nunexplored Ugambi.  Three of the twelve warriors deserted during that\ntime; but as several of the apes had finally learned the secret of the\npaddles, Tarzan felt no dismay because of the loss.\n\nAs a matter of fact, he could have travelled much more rapidly on\nshore, but he believed that he could hold his own wild crew together to\nbetter advantage by keeping them to the boat as much as possible.\nTwice a day they landed to hunt and feed, and at night they slept upon\nthe bank of the mainland or on one of the numerous little islands that\ndotted the river.\n\nBefore them the natives fled in alarm, so that they found only deserted\nvillages in their path as they proceeded.   Tarzan was anxious to get\nin touch with some of the savages who dwelt upon the river's banks, but\nso far he had been unable to do so.\n\nFinally he decided to take to the land himself, leaving his company to\nfollow after him by boat.  He explained to Mugambi the thing that he\nhad in mind, and told Akut to follow the directions of the black.\n\n\"I will join you again in a few days,\" he said.  \"Now I go ahead to\nlearn what has become of the very bad white man whom I seek.\"\n\nAt the next halt Tarzan took to the shore, and was soon lost to the\nview of his people.\n\nThe first few villages he came to were deserted, showing that news of\nthe coming of his pack had travelled rapidly; but toward evening he\ncame upon a distant cluster of thatched huts surrounded by a rude\npalisade, within which were a couple of hundred natives.\n\nThe women were preparing the evening meal as Tarzan of the Apes poised\nabove them in the branches of a giant tree which overhung the palisade\nat one point.\n\nThe ape-man was at a loss as to how he might enter into communication\nwith these people without either frightening them or arousing their\nsavage love of battle.  He had no desire to fight now, for he was upon\na much more important mission than that of battling with every chance\ntribe that he should happen to meet with.\n\nAt last he hit upon a plan, and after seeing that he was concealed from\nthe view of those below, he gave a few hoarse grunts in imitation of a\npanther.  All eyes immediately turned upward toward the foliage above.\n\nIt was growing dark, and they could not penetrate the leafy screen\nwhich shielded the ape-man from their view.  The moment that he had won\ntheir attention he raised his voice to the shriller and more hideous\nscream of the beast he personated, and then, scarce stirring a leaf in\nhis descent, dropped to the ground once again outside the palisade,\nand, with the speed of a deer, ran quickly round to the village gate.\n\nHere he beat upon the fibre-bound saplings of which the barrier was\nconstructed, shouting to the natives in their own tongue that he was a\nfriend who wished food and shelter for the night.\n\nTarzan knew well the nature of the black man.  He was aware that the\ngrunting and screaming of Sheeta in the tree above them would set their\nnerves on edge, and that his pounding upon their gate after dark would\nstill further add to their terror.\n\nThat they did not reply to his hail was no surprise, for natives are\nfearful of any voice that comes out of the night from beyond their\npalisades, attributing it always to some demon or other ghostly\nvisitor; but still he continued to call.\n\n\"Let me in, my friends!\" he cried.  \"I am a white man pursuing the very\nbad white man who passed this way a few days ago.  I follow to punish\nhim for the sins he has committed against you and me.\n\n\"If you doubt my friendship, I will prove it to you by going into the\ntree above your village and driving Sheeta back into the jungle before\nhe leaps among you.  If you will not promise to take me in and treat me\nas a friend I shall let Sheeta stay and devour you.\"\n\nFor a moment there was silence.  Then the voice of an old man came out\nof the quiet of the village street.\n\n\"If you are indeed a white man and a friend, we will let you come in;\nbut first you must drive Sheeta away.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Tarzan.  \"Listen, and you shall hear Sheeta\nfleeing before me.\"\n\nThe ape-man returned quickly to the tree, and this time he made a great\nnoise as he entered the branches, at the same time growling ominously\nafter the manner of the panther, so that those below would believe that\nthe great beast was still there.\n\nWhen he reached a point well above the village street he made a great\ncommotion, shaking the tree violently, crying aloud to the panther to\nflee or be killed, and punctuating his own voice with the screams and\nmouthings of an angry beast.\n\nPresently he raced toward the opposite side of the tree and off into\nthe jungle, pounding loudly against the boles of trees as he went, and\nvoicing the panther's diminishing growls as he drew farther and farther\naway from the village.\n\nA few minutes later he returned to the village gate, calling to the\nnatives within.\n\n\"I have driven Sheeta away,\" he said.  \"Now come and admit me as you\npromised.\"\n\nFor a time there was the sound of excited discussion within the\npalisade, but at length a half-dozen warriors came and opened the\ngates, peering anxiously out in evident trepidation as to the nature of\nthe creature which they should find waiting there.  They were not much\nrelieved at sight of an almost naked white man; but when Tarzan had\nreassured them in quiet tones, protesting his friendship for them, they\nopened the barrier a trifle farther and admitted him.\n\nWhen the gates had been once more secured the self-confidence of the\nsavages returned, and as Tarzan walked up the village street toward the\nchief's hut he was surrounded by a host of curious men, women, and\nchildren.\n\nFrom the chief he learned that Rokoff had passed up the river a week\nprevious, and that he had horns growing from his forehead, and was\naccompanied by a thousand devils.   Later the chief said that the very\nbad white man had remained a month in his village.\n\nThough none of these statements agreed with Kaviri's, that the Russian\nwas but three days gone from the chieftain's village and that his\nfollowing was much smaller than now stated, Tarzan was in no manner\nsurprised at the discrepancies, for he was quite familiar with the\nsavage mind's strange manner of functioning.\n\nWhat he was most interested in knowing was that he was upon the right\ntrail, and that it led toward the interior.  In this circumstance he\nknew that Rokoff could never escape him.\n\nAfter several hours of questioning and cross-questioning the ape-man\nlearned that another party had preceded the Russian by several\ndays--three whites--a man, a woman, and a little man-child, with\nseveral Mosulas.\n\nTarzan explained to the chief that his people would follow him in a\ncanoe, probably the next day, and that though he might go on ahead of\nthem the chief was to receive them kindly and have no fear of them, for\nMugambi would see that they did not harm the chief's people, if they\nwere accorded a friendly reception.\n\n\"And now,\" he concluded, \"I shall lie down beneath this tree and sleep.\nI am very tired.  Permit no one to disturb me.\"\n\nThe chief offered him a hut, but Tarzan, from past experience of native\ndwellings, preferred the open air, and, further, he had plans of his\nown that could be better carried out if he remained beneath the tree.\nHe gave as his reason a desire to be close at hand should Sheeta\nreturn, and after this explanation the chief was very glad to permit\nhim to sleep beneath the tree.\n\nTarzan had always found that it stood him in good stead to leave with\nnatives the impression that he was to some extent possessed of more or\nless miraculous powers.  He might easily have entered their village\nwithout recourse to the gates, but he believed that a sudden and\nunaccountable disappearance when he was ready to leave them would\nresult in a more lasting impression upon their childlike minds, and so\nas soon as the village was quiet in sleep he rose, and, leaping into\nthe branches of the tree above him, faded silently into the black\nmystery of the jungle night.\n\nAll the balance of that night the ape-man swung rapidly through the\nupper and middle terraces of the forest.  When the going was good there\nhe preferred the upper branches of the giant trees, for then his way\nwas better lighted by the moon; but so accustomed were all his senses\nto the grim world of his birth that it was possible for him, even in\nthe dense, black shadows near the ground, to move with ease and\nrapidity.   You or I walking beneath the arcs of Main Street, or\nBroadway, or State Street, could not have moved more surely or with a\ntenth the speed of the agile ape-man through the gloomy mazes that\nwould have baffled us entirely.\n\nAt dawn he stopped to feed, and then he slept for several hours, taking\nup the pursuit again toward noon.\n\nTwice he came upon natives, and, though he had considerable difficulty\nin approaching them, he succeeded in each instance in quieting both\ntheir fears and bellicose intentions toward him, and learned from them\nthat he was upon the trail of the Russian.\n\nTwo days later, still following up the Ugambi, he came upon a large\nvillage.  The chief, a wicked-looking fellow with the sharp-filed teeth\nthat often denote the cannibal, received him with apparent friendliness.\n\nThe ape-man was now thoroughly fatigued, and had determined to rest for\neight or ten hours that he might be fresh and strong when he caught up\nwith Rokoff, as he was sure he must do within a very short time.\n\nThe chief told him that the bearded white man had left his village only\nthe morning before, and that doubtless he would be able to overtake him\nin a short time.  The other party the chief had not seen or heard of,\nso he said.\n\nTarzan did not like the appearance or manner of the fellow, who seemed,\nthough friendly enough, to harbour a certain contempt for this\nhalf-naked white man who came with no followers and offered no\npresents; but he needed the rest and food that the village would afford\nhim with less effort than the jungle, and so, as he knew no fear of\nman, beast, or devil, he curled himself up in the shadow of a hut and\nwas soon asleep.\n\nScarcely had he left the chief than the latter called two of his\nwarriors, to whom he whispered a few instructions.   A moment later the\nsleek, black bodies were racing along the river path, up-stream, toward\nthe east.\n\nIn the village the chief maintained perfect quiet.  He would permit no\none to approach the sleeping visitor, nor any singing, nor loud\ntalking.  He was remarkably solicitous lest his guest be disturbed.\n\nThree hours later several canoes came silently into view from up the\nUgambi.  They were being pushed ahead rapidly by the brawny muscles of\ntheir black crews.  Upon the bank before the river stood the chief, his\nspear raised in a horizontal position above his head, as though in some\nmanner of predetermined signal to those within the boats.\n\nAnd such indeed was the purpose of his attitude--which meant that the\nwhite stranger within his village still slept peacefully.\n\nIn the bows of two of the canoes were the runners that the chief had\nsent forth three hours earlier.  It was evident that they had been\ndispatched to follow and bring back this party, and that the signal\nfrom the bank was one that had been determined upon before they left\nthe village.\n\nIn a few moments the dugouts drew up to the verdure-clad bank.   The\nnative warriors filed out, and with them a half-dozen white men.\nSullen, ugly-looking customers they were, and none more so than the\nevil-faced, black-bearded man who commanded them.\n\n\"Where is the white man your messengers report to be with you?\" he\nasked of the chief.\n\n\"This way, bwana,\" replied the native.  \"Carefully have I kept silence\nin the village that he might be still asleep when you returned.  I do\nnot know that he is one who seeks you to do you harm, but he questioned\nme closely about your coming and your going, and his appearance is as\nthat of the one you described, but whom you believed safe in the\ncountry which you called Jungle Island.\n\n\"Had you not told me this tale I should not have recognized him, and\nthen he might have gone after and slain you.   If he is a friend and no\nenemy, then no harm has been done, bwana; but if he proves to be an\nenemy, I should like very much to have a rifle and some ammunition.\"\n\n\"You have done well,\" replied the white man, \"and you shall have the\nrifle and ammunition whether he be a friend or enemy, provided that you\nstand with me.\"\n\n\"I shall stand with you, bwana,\" said the chief, \"and now come and look\nupon the stranger, who sleeps within my village.\"\n\nSo saying, he turned and led the way toward the hut, in the shadow of\nwhich the unconscious Tarzan slept peacefully.\n\nBehind the two men came the remaining whites and a score of warriors;\nbut the raised forefingers of the chief and his companion held them all\nto perfect silence.\n\nAs they turned the corner of the hut, cautiously and upon tiptoe, an\nugly smile touched the lips of the white as his eyes fell upon the\ngiant figure of the sleeping ape-man.\n\nThe chief looked at the other inquiringly.  The latter nodded his head,\nto signify that the chief had made no mistake in his suspicions.  Then\nhe turned to those behind him and, pointing to the sleeping man,\nmotioned for them to seize and bind him.\n\nA moment later a dozen brutes had leaped upon the surprised Tarzan, and\nso quickly did they work that he was securely bound before he could\nmake half an effort to escape.\n\nThen they threw him down upon his back, and as his eyes turned toward\nthe crowd that stood near, they fell upon the malign face of Nikolas\nRokoff.\n\nA sneer curled the Russian's lips.  He stepped quite close to Tarzan.\n\n\"Pig!\" he cried.  \"Have you not learned sufficient wisdom to keep away\nfrom Nikolas Rokoff?\"\n\nThen he kicked the prostrate man full in the face.\n\n\"That for your welcome,\" he said.\n\n\"Tonight, before my Ethiop friends eat you, I shall tell you what has\nalready befallen your wife and child, and what further plans I have for\ntheir futures.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\nThe Dance of Death\n\n\nThrough the luxuriant, tangled vegetation of the Stygian jungle night a\ngreat lithe body made its way sinuously and in utter silence upon its\nsoft padded feet.  Only two blazing points of yellow-green flame shone\noccasionally with the reflected light of the equatorial moon that now\nand again pierced the softly sighing roof rustling in the night wind.\n\nOccasionally the beast would stop with high-held nose, sniffing\nsearchingly.  At other times a quick, brief incursion into the branches\nabove delayed it momentarily in its steady journey toward the east.  To\nits sensitive nostrils came the subtle unseen spoor of many a tender\nfour-footed creature, bringing the slaver of hunger to the cruel,\ndrooping jowl.\n\nBut steadfastly it kept on its way, strangely ignoring the cravings of\nappetite that at another time would have sent the rolling, fur-clad\nmuscles flying at some soft throat.\n\nAll that night the creature pursued its lonely way, and the next day it\nhalted only to make a single kill, which it tore to fragments and\ndevoured with sullen, grumbling rumbles as though half famished for\nlack of food.\n\nIt was dusk when it approached the palisade that surrounded a large\nnative village.  Like the shadow of a swift and silent death it circled\nthe village, nose to ground, halting at last close to the palisade,\nwhere it almost touched the backs of several huts.  Here the beast\nsniffed for a moment, and then, turning its head upon one side,\nlistened with up-pricked ears.\n\nWhat it heard was no sound by the standards of human ears, yet to the\nhighly attuned and delicate organs of the beast a message seemed to be\nborne to the savage brain.  A wondrous transformation was wrought in\nthe motionless mass of statuesque bone and muscle that had an instant\nbefore stood as though carved out of the living bronze.\n\nAs if it had been poised upon steel springs, suddenly released, it rose\nquickly and silently to the top of the palisade, disappearing,\nstealthily and cat-like, into the dark space between the wall and the\nback of an adjacent hut.\n\nIn the village street beyond women were preparing many little fires and\nfetching cooking-pots filled with water, for a great feast was to be\ncelebrated ere the night was many hours older.   About a stout stake\nnear the centre of the circling fires a little knot of black warriors\nstood conversing, their bodies smeared with white and blue and ochre in\nbroad and grotesque bands.   Great circles of colour were drawn about\ntheir eyes and lips, their breasts and abdomens, and from their\nclay-plastered coiffures rose gay feathers and bits of long, straight\nwire.\n\nThe village was preparing for the feast, while in a hut at one side of\nthe scene of the coming orgy the bound victim of their bestial\nappetites lay waiting for the end.  And such an end!\n\nTarzan of the Apes, tensing his mighty muscles, strained at the bonds\nthat pinioned him; but they had been re-enforced many times at the\ninstigation of the Russian, so that not even the ape-man's giant brawn\ncould budge them.\n\nDeath!\n\nTarzan had looked the Hideous Hunter in the face many a time, and\nsmiled.  And he would smile again tonight when he knew the end was\ncoming quickly; but now his thoughts were not of himself, but of those\nothers--the dear ones who must suffer most because of his passing.\n\nJane would never know the manner of it.  For that he thanked Heaven;\nand he was thankful also that she at least was safe in the heart of the\nworld's greatest city.  Safe among kind and loving friends who would do\ntheir best to lighten her misery.\n\nBut the boy!\n\nTarzan writhed at the thought of him.  His son!  And now he--the mighty\nLord of the Jungle--he, Tarzan, King of the Apes, the only one in all\nthe world fitted to find and save the child from the horrors that\nRokoff's evil mind had planned--had been trapped like a silly, dumb\ncreature.  He was to die in a few hours, and with him would go the\nchild's last chance of succour.\n\nRokoff had been in to see and revile and abuse him several times during\nthe afternoon; but he had been able to wring no word of remonstrance or\nmurmur of pain from the lips of the giant captive.\n\nSo at last he had given up, reserving his particular bit of exquisite\nmental torture for the last moment, when, just before the savage spears\nof the cannibals should for ever make the object of his hatred immune\nto further suffering, the Russian planned to reveal to his enemy the\ntrue whereabouts of his wife whom he thought safe in England.\n\nDusk had fallen upon the village, and the ape-man could hear the\npreparations going forward for the torture and the feast.   The dance\nof death he could picture in his mind's eye--for he had seen the thing\nmany times in the past.  Now he was to be the central figure, bound to\nthe stake.\n\nThe torture of the slow death as the circling warriors cut him to bits\nwith the fiendish skill, that mutilated without bringing\nunconsciousness, had no terrors for him.  He was inured to suffering\nand to the sight of blood and to cruel death; but the desire to live\nwas no less strong within him, and until the last spark of life should\nflicker and go out, his whole being would remain quick with hope and\ndetermination.   Let them relax their watchfulness but for an instant,\nhe knew that his cunning mind and giant muscles would find a way to\nescape--escape and revenge.\n\nAs he lay, thinking furiously on every possibility of self-salvation,\nthere came to his sensitive nostrils a faint and a familiar scent.\nInstantly every faculty of his mind was upon the alert.  Presently his\ntrained ears caught the sound of the soundless presence without--behind\nthe hut wherein he lay.   His lips moved, and though no sound came\nforth that might have been appreciable to a human ear beyond the walls\nof his prison, yet he realized that the one beyond would hear.  Already\nhe knew who that one was, for his nostrils had told him as plainly as\nyour eyes or mine tell us of the identity of an old friend whom we come\nupon in broad daylight.\n\nAn instant later he heard the soft sound of a fur-clad body and padded\nfeet scaling the outer wall behind the hut and then a tearing at the\npoles which formed the wall.   Presently through the hole thus made\nslunk a great beast, pressing its cold muzzle close to his neck.\n\nIt was Sheeta, the panther.\n\nThe beast snuffed round the prostrate man, whining a little.  There was\na limit to the interchange of ideas which could take place between\nthese two, and so Tarzan could not be sure that Sheeta understood all\nthat he attempted to communicate to him.  That the man was tied and\nhelpless Sheeta could, of course, see; but that to the mind of the\npanther this would carry any suggestion of harm in so far as his master\nwas concerned, Tarzan could not guess.\n\nWhat had brought the beast to him?  The fact that he had come augured\nwell for what he might accomplish; but when Tarzan tried to get Sheeta\nto gnaw his bonds asunder the great animal could not seem to understand\nwhat was expected of him, and, instead, but licked the wrists and arms\nof the prisoner.\n\nPresently there came an interruption.  Some one was approaching the\nhut.  Sheeta gave a low growl and slunk into the blackness of a far\ncorner.  Evidently the visitor did not hear the warning sound, for\nalmost immediately he entered the hut--a tall, naked, savage warrior.\n\nHe came to Tarzan's side and pricked him with a spear.   From the lips\nof the ape-man came a weird, uncanny sound, and in answer to it there\nleaped from the blackness of the hut's farthermost corner a bolt of\nfur-clad death.  Full upon the breast of the painted savage the great\nbeast struck, burying sharp talons in the black flesh and sinking great\nyellow fangs in the ebon throat.\n\nThere was a fearful scream of anguish and terror from the black, and\nmingled with it was the hideous challenge of the killing panther.  Then\ncame silence--silence except for the rending of bloody flesh and the\ncrunching of human bones between mighty jaws.\n\nThe noise had brought sudden quiet to the village without.   Then there\ncame the sound of voices in consultation.\n\nHigh-pitched, fear-filled voices, and deep, low tones of authority, as\nthe chief spoke.  Tarzan and the panther heard the approaching\nfootsteps of many men, and then, to Tarzan's surprise, the great cat\nrose from across the body of its kill, and slunk noiselessly from the\nhut through the aperture through which it had entered.\n\nThe man heard the soft scraping of the body as it passed over the top\nof the palisade, and then silence.  From the opposite side of the hut\nhe heard the savages approaching to investigate.\n\nHe had little hope that Sheeta would return, for had the great cat\nintended to defend him against all comers it would have remained by his\nside as it heard the approaching savages without.\n\nTarzan knew how strange were the workings of the brains of the mighty\ncarnivora of the jungle--how fiendishly fearless they might be in the\nface of certain death, and again how timid upon the slightest\nprovocation.  There was doubt in his mind that some note of the\napproaching blacks vibrating with fear had struck an answering chord in\nthe nervous system of the panther, sending him slinking through the\njungle, his tail between his legs.\n\nThe man shrugged.  Well, what of it?  He had expected to die, and,\nafter all, what might Sheeta have done for him other than to maul a\ncouple of his enemies before a rifle in the hands of one of the whites\nshould have dispatched him!\n\nIf the cat could have released him!  Ah! that would have resulted in a\nvery different story; but it had proved beyond the understanding of\nSheeta, and now the beast was gone and Tarzan must definitely abandon\nhope.\n\nThe natives were at the entrance to the hut now, peering fearfully into\nthe dark interior.  Two in advance held lighted torches in their left\nhands and ready spears in their right.   They held back timorously\nagainst those behind, who were pushing them forward.\n\nThe shrieks of the panther's victim, mingled with those of the great\ncat, had wrought mightily upon their poor nerves, and now the awful\nsilence of the dark interior seemed even more terribly ominous than had\nthe frightful screaming.\n\nPresently one of those who was being forced unwillingly within hit upon\na happy scheme for learning first the precise nature of the danger\nwhich menaced him from the silent interior.   With a quick movement he\nflung his lighted torch into the centre of the hut.  Instantly all\nwithin was illuminated for a brief second before the burning brand was\ndashed out against the earth floor.\n\nThere was the figure of the white prisoner still securely bound as they\nhad last seen him, and in the centre of the hut another figure equally\nas motionless, its throat and breasts horribly torn and mangled.\n\nThe sight that met the eyes of the foremost savages inspired more\nterror within their superstitious breasts than would the presence of\nSheeta, for they saw only the result of a ferocious attack upon one of\ntheir fellows.\n\nNot seeing the cause, their fear-ridden minds were free to attribute\nthe ghastly work to supernatural causes, and with the thought they\nturned, screaming, from the hut, bowling over those who stood directly\nbehind them in the exuberance of their terror.\n\nFor an hour Tarzan heard only the murmur of excited voices from the far\nend of the village.  Evidently the savages were once more attempting to\nwork up their flickering courage to a point that would permit them to\nmake another invasion of the hut, for now and then came a savage yell,\nsuch as the warriors give to bolster up their bravery upon the field of\nbattle.\n\nBut in the end it was two of the whites who first entered, carrying\ntorches and guns.  Tarzan was not surprised to discover that neither of\nthem was Rokoff.  He would have wagered his soul that no power on earth\ncould have tempted that great coward to face the unknown menace of the\nhut.\n\nWhen the natives saw that the white men were not attacked they, too,\ncrowded into the interior, their voices hushed with terror as they\nlooked upon the mutilated corpse of their comrade.   The whites tried\nin vain to elicit an explanation from Tarzan; but to all their queries\nhe but shook his head, a grim and knowing smile curving his lips.\n\nAt last Rokoff came.\n\nHis face grew very white as his eyes rested upon the bloody thing\ngrinning up at him from the floor, the face set in a death mask of\nexcruciating horror.\n\n\"Come!\" he said to the chief.  \"Let us get to work and finish this\ndemon before he has an opportunity to repeat this thing upon more of\nyour people.\"\n\nThe chief gave orders that Tarzan should be lifted and carried to the\nstake; but it was several minutes before he could prevail upon any of\nhis men to touch the prisoner.\n\nAt last, however, four of the younger warriors dragged Tarzan roughly\nfrom the hut, and once outside the pall of terror seemed lifted from\nthe savage hearts.\n\nA score of howling blacks pushed and buffeted the prisoner down the\nvillage street and bound him to the post in the centre of the circle of\nlittle fires and boiling cooking-pots.\n\nWhen at last he was made fast and seemed quite helpless and beyond the\nfaintest hope of succour, Rokoff's shrivelled wart of courage swelled\nto its usual proportions when danger was not present.\n\nHe stepped close to the ape-man, and, seizing a spear from the hands of\none of the savages, was the first to prod the helpless victim.  A\nlittle stream of blood trickled down the giant's smooth skin from the\nwound in his side; but no murmur of pain passed his lips.\n\nThe smile of contempt upon his face seemed to infuriate the Russian.\nWith a volley of oaths he leaped at the helpless captive, beating him\nupon the face with his clenched fists and kicking him mercilessly about\nthe legs.\n\nThen he raised the heavy spear to drive it through the mighty heart,\nand still Tarzan of the Apes smiled contemptuously upon him.\n\nBefore Rokoff could drive the weapon home the chief sprang upon him and\ndragged him away from his intended victim.\n\n\"Stop, white man!\" he cried.  \"Rob us of this prisoner and our\ndeath-dance, and you yourself may have to take his place.\"\n\nThe threat proved most effective in keeping the Russian from further\nassaults upon the prisoner, though he continued to stand a little apart\nand hurl taunts at his enemy.  He told Tarzan that he himself was going\nto eat the ape-man's heart.   He enlarged upon the horrors of the\nfuture life of Tarzan's son, and intimated that his vengeance would\nreach as well to Jane Clayton.\n\n\"You think your wife safe in England,\" said Rokoff.   \"Poor fool!  She\nis even now in the hands of one not even of decent birth, and far from\nthe safety of London and the protection of her friends.  I had not\nmeant to tell you this until I could bring to you upon Jungle Island\nproof of her fate.\n\n\"Now that you are about to die the most unthinkably horrid death that\nit is given a white man to die--let this word of the plight of your\nwife add to the torments that you must suffer before the last savage\nspear-thrust releases you from your torture.\"\n\nThe dance had commenced now, and the yells of the circling warriors\ndrowned Rokoff's further attempts to distress his victim.\n\nThe leaping savages, the flickering firelight playing upon their\npainted bodies, circled about the victim at the stake.\n\nTo Tarzan's memory came a similar scene, when he had rescued D'Arnot\nfrom a like predicament at the last moment before the final\nspear-thrust should have ended his sufferings.   Who was there now to\nrescue him?  In all the world there was none able to save him from the\ntorture and the death.\n\nThe thought that these human fiends would devour him when the dance was\ndone caused him not a single qualm of horror or disgust.  It did not\nadd to his sufferings as it would have to those of an ordinary white\nman, for all his life Tarzan had seen the beasts of the jungle devour\nthe flesh of their kills.\n\nHad he not himself battled for the grisly forearm of a great ape at\nthat long-gone Dum-Dum, when he had slain the fierce Tublat and won his\nniche in the respect of the Apes of Kerchak?\n\nThe dancers were leaping more closely to him now.  The spears were\ncommencing to find his body in the first torturing pricks that prefaced\nthe more serious thrusts.\n\nIt would not be long now.  The ape-man longed for the last savage lunge\nthat would end his misery.\n\nAnd then, far out in the mazes of the weird jungle, rose a shrill\nscream.\n\nFor an instant the dancers paused, and in the silence of the interval\nthere rose from the lips of the fast-bound white man an answering\nshriek, more fearsome and more terrible than that of the jungle-beast\nthat had roused it.\n\nFor several minutes the blacks hesitated; then, at the urging of Rokoff\nand their chief, they leaped in to finish the dance and the victim; but\nere ever another spear touched the brown hide a tawny streak of\ngreen-eyed hate and ferocity bounded from the door of the hut in which\nTarzan had been imprisoned, and Sheeta, the panther, stood snarling\nbeside his master.\n\nFor an instant the blacks and the whites stood transfixed with terror.\nTheir eyes were riveted upon the bared fangs of the jungle cat.\n\nOnly Tarzan of the Apes saw what else there was emerging from the dark\ninterior of the hut.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\nChivalry or Villainy\n\n\nFrom her cabin port upon the Kincaid, Jane Clayton had seen her husband\nrowed to the verdure-clad shore of Jungle Island, and then the ship\nonce more proceeded upon its way.\n\nFor several days she saw no one other than Sven Anderssen, the\nKincaid's taciturn and repellent cook.  She asked him the name of the\nshore upon which her husband had been set.\n\n\"Ay tank it blow purty soon purty hard,\" replied the Swede, and that\nwas all that she could get out of him.\n\nShe had come to the conclusion that he spoke no other English, and so\nshe ceased to importune him for information; but never did she forget\nto greet him pleasantly or to thank him for the hideous, nauseating\nmeals he brought her.\n\nThree days from the spot where Tarzan had been marooned the Kincaid\ncame to anchor in the mouth of a great river, and presently Rokoff came\nto Jane Clayton's cabin.\n\n\"We have arrived, my dear,\" he said, with a sickening leer.   \"I have\ncome to offer you safety, liberty, and ease.  My heart has been\nsoftened toward you in your suffering, and I would make amends as best\nI may.\n\n\"Your husband was a brute--you know that best who found him naked in\nhis native jungle, roaming wild with the savage beasts that were his\nfellows.  Now I am a gentleman, not only born of noble blood, but\nraised gently as befits a man of quality.\n\n\"To you, dear Jane, I offer the love of a cultured man and association\nwith one of culture and refinement, which you must have sorely missed\nin your relations with the poor ape that through your girlish\ninfatuation you married so thoughtlessly.   I love you, Jane.  You have\nbut to say the word and no further sorrows shall afflict you--even your\nbaby shall be returned to you unharmed.\"\n\nOutside the door Sven Anderssen paused with the noonday meal he had\nbeen carrying to Lady Greystoke.  Upon the end of his long, stringy\nneck his little head was cocked to one side, his close-set eyes were\nhalf closed, his ears, so expressive was his whole attitude of stealthy\neavesdropping, seemed truly to be cocked forward--even his long,\nyellow, straggly moustache appeared to assume a sly droop.\n\nAs Rokoff closed his appeal, awaiting the reply he invited, the look of\nsurprise upon Jane Clayton's face turned to one of disgust.  She fairly\nshuddered in the fellow's face.\n\n\"I would not have been surprised, M.  Rokoff,\" she said, \"had you\nattempted to force me to submit to your evil desires, but that you\nshould be so fatuous as to believe that I, wife of John Clayton, would\ncome to you willingly, even to save my life, I should never have\nimagined.  I have known you for a scoundrel, M.  Rokoff; but until now\nI had not taken you for a fool.\"\n\nRokoff's eyes narrowed, and the red of mortification flushed out the\npallor of his face.  He took a step toward the girl, threateningly.\n\n\"We shall see who is the fool at last,\" he hissed, \"when I have broken\nyou to my will and your plebeian Yankee stubbornness has cost you all\nthat you hold dear--even the life of your baby--for, by the bones of\nSt.  Peter, I'll forego all that I had planned for the brat and cut its\nheart out before your very eyes.  You'll learn what it means to insult\nNikolas Rokoff.\"\n\nJane Clayton turned wearily away.\n\n\"What is the use,\" she said, \"of expatiating upon the depths to which\nyour vengeful nature can sink?  You cannot move me either by threats or\ndeeds.  My baby cannot judge yet for himself, but I, his mother, can\nforesee that should it have been given him to survive to man's estate\nhe would willingly sacrifice his life for the honour of his mother.\nLove him as I do, I would not purchase his life at such a price.   Did\nI, he would execrate my memory to the day of his death.\"\n\nRokoff was now thoroughly angered because of his failure to reduce the\ngirl to terror.  He felt only hate for her, but it had come to his\ndiseased mind that if he could force her to accede to his demands as\nthe price of her life and her child's, the cup of his revenge would be\nfilled to brimming when he could flaunt the wife of Lord Greystoke in\nthe capitals of Europe as his mistress.\n\nAgain he stepped closer to her.  His evil face was convulsed with rage\nand desire.  Like a wild beast he sprang upon her, and with his strong\nfingers at her throat forced her backward upon the berth.\n\nAt the same instant the door of the cabin opened noisily.   Rokoff\nleaped to his feet, and, turning, faced the Swede cook.\n\nInto the fellow's usually foxy eyes had come an expression of utter\nstupidity.  His lower jaw drooped in vacuous harmony.   He busied\nhimself in arranging Lady Greystoke's meal upon the tiny table at one\nside of her cabin.\n\nThe Russian glared at him.\n\n\"What do you mean,\" he cried, \"by entering here without permission?\nGet out!\"\n\nThe cook turned his watery blue eyes upon Rokoff and smiled vacuously.\n\n\"Ay tank it blow purty soon purty hard,\" he said, and then he began\nrearranging the few dishes upon the little table.\n\n\"Get out of here, or I'll throw you out, you miserable blockhead!\"\nroared Rokoff, taking a threatening step toward the Swede.\n\nAnderssen continued to smile foolishly in his direction, but one\nham-like paw slid stealthily to the handle of the long, slim knife that\nprotruded from the greasy cord supporting his soiled apron.\n\nRokoff saw the move and stopped short in his advance.   Then he turned\ntoward Jane Clayton.\n\n\"I will give you until tomorrow,\" he said, \"to reconsider your answer\nto my offer.  All will be sent ashore upon one pretext or another\nexcept you and the child, Paulvitch and myself.   Then without\ninterruption you will be able to witness the death of the baby.\"\n\nHe spoke in French that the cook might not understand the sinister\nportent of his words.  When he had done he banged out of the cabin\nwithout another look at the man who had interrupted him in his sorry\nwork.\n\nWhen he had gone, Sven Anderssen turned toward Lady Greystoke--the\nidiotic expression that had masked his thoughts had fallen away, and in\nits place was one of craft and cunning.\n\n\"Hay tank Ay ban a fool,\" he said.  \"Hay ben the fool.  Ay savvy\nFranch.\"\n\nJane Clayton looked at him in surprise.\n\n\"You understood all that he said, then?\"\n\nAnderssen grinned.\n\n\"You bat,\" he said.\n\n\"And you heard what was going on in here and came to protect me?\"\n\n\"You bane good to me,\" explained the Swede.  \"Hay treat me like darty\ndog.  Ay help you, lady.  You yust vait--Ay help you.  Ay ban Vast\nCoast lots times.\"\n\n\"But how can you help me, Sven,\" she asked, \"when all these men will be\nagainst us?\"\n\n\"Ay tank,\" said Sven Anderssen, \"it blow purty soon purty hard,\" and\nthen he turned and left the cabin.\n\nThough Jane Clayton doubted the cook's ability to be of any material\nservice to her, she was nevertheless deeply grateful to him for what he\nalready had done.  The feeling that among these enemies she had one\nfriend brought the first ray of comfort that had come to lighten the\nburden of her miserable apprehensions throughout the long voyage of the\nKincaid.\n\nShe saw no more of Rokoff that day, nor of any other until Sven came\nwith her evening meal.  She tried to draw him into conversation\nrelative to his plans to aid her, but all that she could get from him\nwas his stereotyped prophecy as to the future state of the wind.  He\nseemed suddenly to have relapsed into his wonted state of dense\nstupidity.\n\nHowever, when he was leaving her cabin a little later with the empty\ndishes he whispered very low, \"Leave on your clothes an' roll up your\nblankets.  Ay come back after you purty soon.\"\n\nHe would have slipped from the room at once, but Jane laid her hand\nupon his sleeve.\n\n\"My baby?\" she asked.  \"I cannot go without him.\"\n\n\"You do wot Ay tal you,\" said Anderssen, scowling.   \"Ay ban halpin'\nyou, so don't you gat too fonny.\"\n\nWhen he had gone Jane Clayton sank down upon her berth in utter\nbewilderment.  What was she to do?  Suspicions as to the intentions of\nthe Swede swarmed her brain.  Might she not be infinitely worse off if\nshe gave herself into his power than she already was?\n\nNo, she could be no worse off in company with the devil himself than\nwith Nikolas Rokoff, for the devil at least bore the reputation of\nbeing a gentleman.\n\nShe swore a dozen times that she would not leave the Kincaid without\nher baby, and yet she remained clothed long past her usual hour for\nretiring, and her blankets were neatly rolled and bound with stout\ncord, when about midnight there came a stealthy scratching upon the\npanels of her door.\n\nSwiftly she crossed the room and drew the bolt.  Softly the door swung\nopen to admit the muffled figure of the Swede.   On one arm he carried\na bundle, evidently his blankets.   His other hand was raised in a\ngesture commanding silence, a grimy forefinger upon his lips.\n\nHe came quite close to her.\n\n\"Carry this,\" he said.  \"Do not make some noise when you see it.  It\nban your kid.\"\n\nQuick hands snatched the bundle from the cook, and hungry mother arms\nfolded the sleeping infant to her breast, while hot tears of joy ran\ndown her cheeks and her whole frame shook with the emotion of the\nmoment.\n\n\"Come!\" said Anderssen.  \"We got no time to vaste.\"\n\nHe snatched up her bundle of blankets, and outside the cabin door his\nown as well.  Then he led her to the ship's side, steadied her descent\nof the monkey-ladder, holding the child for her as she climbed to the\nwaiting boat below.  A moment later he had cut the rope that held the\nsmall boat to the steamer's side, and, bending silently to the muffled\noars, was pulling toward the black shadows up the Ugambi River.\n\nAnderssen rowed on as though quite sure of his ground, and when after\nhalf an hour the moon broke through the clouds there was revealed upon\ntheir left the mouth of a tributary running into the Ugambi.  Up this\nnarrow channel the Swede turned the prow of the small boat.\n\nJane Clayton wondered if the man knew where he was bound.   She did not\nknow that in his capacity as cook he had that day been rowed up this\nvery stream to a little village where he had bartered with the natives\nfor such provisions as they had for sale, and that he had there\narranged the details of his plan for the adventure upon which they were\nnow setting forth.\n\nEven though the moon was full, the surface of the small river was quite\ndark.  The giant trees overhung its narrow banks, meeting in a great\narch above the centre of the river.   Spanish moss dropped from the\ngracefully bending limbs, and enormous creepers clambered in riotous\nprofusion from the ground to the loftiest branch, falling in curving\nloops almost to the water's placid breast.\n\nNow and then the river's surface would be suddenly broken ahead of them\nby a huge crocodile, startled by the splashing of the oars, or,\nsnorting and blowing, a family of hippos would dive from a sandy bar to\nthe cool, safe depths of the bottom.\n\nFrom the dense jungles upon either side came the weird night cries of\nthe carnivora--the maniacal voice of the hyena, the coughing grunt of\nthe panther, the deep and awful roar of the lion.  And with them\nstrange, uncanny notes that the girl could not ascribe to any\nparticular night prowler--more terrible because of their mystery.\n\nHuddled in the stern of the boat she sat with her baby strained close\nto her bosom, and because of that little tender, helpless thing she was\nhappier tonight than she had been for many a sorrow-ridden day.\n\nEven though she knew not to what fate she was going, or how soon that\nfate might overtake her, still was she happy and thankful for the\nmoment, however brief, that she might press her baby tightly in her\narms.  She could scarce wait for the coming of the day that she might\nlook again upon the bright face of her little, black-eyed Jack.\n\nAgain and again she tried to strain her eyes through the blackness of\nthe jungle night to have but a tiny peep at those beloved features, but\nonly the dim outline of the baby face rewarded her efforts.  Then once\nmore she would cuddle the warm, little bundle close to her throbbing\nheart.\n\nIt must have been close to three o'clock in the morning that Anderssen\nbrought the boat's nose to the shore before a clearing where could be\ndimly seen in the waning moonlight a cluster of native huts encircled\nby a thorn boma.\n\nAt the village gate they were admitted by a native woman, the wife of\nthe chief whom Anderssen had paid to assist him.   She took them to the\nchief's hut, but Anderssen said that they would sleep without upon the\nground, and so, her duty having been completed, she left them to their\nown devices.\n\nThe Swede, after explaining in his gruff way that the huts were\ndoubtless filthy and vermin-ridden, spread Jane's blankets on the\nground for her, and at a little distance unrolled his own and lay down\nto sleep.\n\nIt was some time before the girl could find a comfortable position upon\nthe hard ground, but at last, the baby in the hollow of her arm, she\ndropped asleep from utter exhaustion.   When she awoke it was broad\ndaylight.\n\nAbout her were clustered a score of curious natives--mostly men, for\namong the aborigines it is the male who owns this characteristic in its\nmost exaggerated form.   Instinctively Jane Clayton drew the baby more\nclosely to her, though she soon saw that the blacks were far from\nintending her or the child any harm.\n\nIn fact, one of them offered her a gourd of milk--a filthy,\nsmoke-begrimed gourd, with the ancient rind of long-curdled milk caked\nin layers within its neck; but the spirit of the giver touched her\ndeeply, and her face lightened for a moment with one of those almost\nforgotten smiles of radiance that had helped to make her beauty famous\nboth in Baltimore and London.\n\nShe took the gourd in one hand, and rather than cause the giver pain\nraised it to her lips, though for the life of her she could scarce\nrestrain the qualm of nausea that surged through her as the malodorous\nthing approached her nostrils.\n\nIt was Anderssen who came to her rescue, and taking the gourd from her,\ndrank a portion himself, and then returned it to the native with a gift\nof blue beads.\n\nThe sun was shining brightly now, and though the baby still slept, Jane\ncould scarce restrain her impatient desire to have at least a brief\nglance at the beloved face.  The natives had withdrawn at a command\nfrom their chief, who now stood talking with Anderssen, a little apart\nfrom her.\n\nAs she debated the wisdom of risking disturbing the child's slumber by\nlifting the blanket that now protected its face from the sun, she noted\nthat the cook conversed with the chief in the language of the Negro.\n\nWhat a remarkable man the fellow was, indeed!  She had thought him\nignorant and stupid but a short day before, and now, within the past\ntwenty-four hours, she had learned that he spoke not only English but\nFrench as well, and the primitive dialect of the West Coast.\n\nShe had thought him shifty, cruel, and untrustworthy, yet in so far as\nshe had reason to believe he had proved himself in every way the\ncontrary since the day before.  It scarce seemed credible that he could\nbe serving her from motives purely chivalrous.  There must be something\ndeeper in his intentions and plans than he had yet disclosed.\n\nShe wondered, and when she looked at him--at his close-set, shifty eyes\nand repulsive features, she shuddered, for she was convinced that no\nlofty characteristics could be hid behind so foul an exterior.\n\nAs she was thinking of these things the while she debated the wisdom of\nuncovering the baby's face, there came a little grunt from the wee\nbundle in her lap, and then a gurgling coo that set her heart in\nraptures.\n\nThe baby was awake!  Now she might feast her eyes upon him.\n\nQuickly she snatched the blanket from before the infant's face;\nAnderssen was looking at her as she did so.\n\nHe saw her stagger to her feet, holding the baby at arm's length from\nher, her eyes glued in horror upon the little chubby face and twinkling\neyes.\n\nThen he heard her piteous cry as her knees gave beneath her, and she\nsank to the ground in a swoon.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\nThe Swede\n\n\nAs the warriors, clustered thick about Tarzan and Sheeta, realized that\nit was a flesh-and-blood panther that had interrupted their dance of\ndeath, they took heart a trifle, for in the face of all those circling\nspears even the mighty Sheeta would be doomed.\n\nRokoff was urging the chief to have his spearmen launch their missiles,\nand the black was upon the instant of issuing the command, when his\neyes strayed beyond Tarzan, following the gaze of the ape-man.\n\nWith a yell of terror the chief turned and fled toward the village\ngate, and as his people looked to see the cause of his fright, they too\ntook to their heels--for there, lumbering down upon them, their huge\nforms exaggerated by the play of moonlight and camp fire, came the\nhideous apes of Akut.\n\nThe instant the natives turned to flee the ape-man's savage cry rang\nout above the shrieks of the blacks, and in answer to it Sheeta and the\napes leaped growling after the fugitives.   Some of the warriors turned\nto battle with their enraged antagonists, but before the fiendish\nferocity of the fierce beasts they went down to bloody death.\n\nOthers were dragged down in their flight, and it was not until the\nvillage was empty and the last of the blacks had disappeared into the\nbush that Tarzan was able to recall his savage pack to his side.  Then\nit was that he discovered to his chagrin that he could not make one of\nthem, not even the comparatively intelligent Akut, understand that he\nwished to be freed from the bonds that held him to the stake.\n\nIn time, of course, the idea would filter through their thick skulls,\nbut in the meanwhile many things might happen--the blacks might return\nin force to regain their village; the whites might readily pick them\nall off with their rifles from the surrounding trees; he might even\nstarve to death before the dull-witted apes realized that he wished\nthem to gnaw through his bonds.\n\nAs for Sheeta--the great cat understood even less than the apes; but\nyet Tarzan could not but marvel at the remarkable characteristics this\nbeast had evidenced.  That it felt real affection for him there seemed\nlittle doubt, for now that the blacks were disposed of it walked slowly\nback and forth about the stake, rubbing its sides against the ape-man's\nlegs and purring like a contented tabby.  That it had gone of its own\nvolition to bring the balance of the pack to his rescue, Tarzan could\nnot doubt.  His Sheeta was indeed a jewel among beasts.\n\nMugambi's absence worried the ape-man not a little.   He attempted to\nlearn from Akut what had become of the black, fearing that the beasts,\nfreed from the restraint of Tarzan's presence, might have fallen upon\nthe man and devoured him; but to all his questions the great ape but\npointed back in the direction from which they had come out of the\njungle.\n\nThe night passed with Tarzan still fast bound to the stake, and shortly\nafter dawn his fears were realized in the discovery of naked black\nfigures moving stealthily just within the edge of the jungle about the\nvillage.  The blacks were returning.\n\nWith daylight their courage would be equal to the demands of a charge\nupon the handful of beasts that had routed them from their rightful\nabodes.  The result of the encounter seemed foregone if the savages\ncould curb their superstitious terror, for against their overwhelming\nnumbers, their long spears and poisoned arrows, the panther and the\napes could not be expected to survive a really determined attack.\n\nThat the blacks were preparing for a charge became apparent a few\nmoments later, when they commenced to show themselves in force upon the\nedge of the clearing, dancing and jumping about as they waved their\nspears and shouted taunts and fierce warcries toward the village.\n\nThese manoeuvres Tarzan knew would continue until the blacks had worked\nthemselves into a state of hysterical courage sufficient to sustain\nthem for a short charge toward the village, and even though he doubted\nthat they would reach it at the first attempt, he believed that at the\nsecond or the third they would swarm through the gateway, when the\noutcome could not be aught than the extermination of Tarzan's bold, but\nunarmed and undisciplined, defenders.\n\nEven as he had guessed, the first charge carried the howling warriors\nbut a short distance into the open--a shrill, weird challenge from the\nape-man being all that was necessary to send them scurrying back to the\nbush.  For half an hour they pranced and yelled their courage to the\nsticking-point, and again essayed a charge.\n\nThis time they came quite to the village gate, but when Sheeta and the\nhideous apes leaped among them they turned screaming in terror, and\nagain fled to the jungle.\n\nAgain was the dancing and shouting repeated.  This time Tarzan felt no\ndoubt they would enter the village and complete the work that a handful\nof determined white men would have carried to a successful conclusion\nat the first attempt.\n\nTo have rescue come so close only to be thwarted because he could not\nmake his poor, savage friends understand precisely what he wanted of\nthem was most irritating, but he could not find it in his heart to\nplace blame upon them.   They had done their best, and now he was sure\nthey would doubtless remain to die with him in a fruitless effort to\ndefend him.\n\nThe blacks were already preparing for the charge.  A few individuals\nhad advanced a short distance toward the village and were exhorting the\nothers to follow them.  In a moment the whole savage horde would be\nracing across the clearing.\n\nTarzan thought only of the little child somewhere in this cruel,\nrelentless wilderness.  His heart ached for the son that he might no\nlonger seek to save--that and the realization of Jane's suffering were\nall that weighed upon his brave spirit in these that he thought his\nlast moments of life.  Succour, all that he could hope for, had come to\nhim in the instant of his extremity--and failed.  There was nothing\nfurther for which to hope.\n\nThe blacks were half-way across the clearing when Tarzan's attention\nwas attracted by the actions of one of the apes.  The beast was glaring\ntoward one of the huts.  Tarzan followed his gaze.  To his infinite\nrelief and delight he saw the stalwart form of Mugambi racing toward\nhim.\n\nThe huge black was panting heavily as though from strenuous physical\nexertion and nervous excitement.  He rushed to Tarzan's side, and as\nthe first of the savages reached the village gate the native's knife\nsevered the last of the cords that bound Tarzan to the stake.\n\nIn the street lay the corpses of the savages that had fallen before the\npack the night before.  From one of these Tarzan seized a spear and\nknob stick, and with Mugambi at his side and the snarling pack about\nhim, he met the natives as they poured through the gate.\n\nFierce and terrible was the battle that ensued, but at last the savages\nwere routed, more by terror, perhaps, at sight of a black man and a\nwhite fighting in company with a panther and the huge fierce apes of\nAkut, than because of their inability to overcome the relatively small\nforce that opposed them.\n\nOne prisoner fell into the hands of Tarzan, and him the ape-man\nquestioned in an effort to learn what had become of Rokoff and his\nparty.  Promised his liberty in return for the information, the black\ntold all he knew concerning the movements of the Russian.\n\nIt seemed that early in the morning their chief had attempted to\nprevail upon the whites to return with him to the village and with\ntheir guns destroy the ferocious pack that had taken possession of it,\nbut Rokoff appeared to entertain even more fears of the giant white man\nand his strange companions than even the blacks themselves.\n\nUpon no conditions would he consent to returning even within sight of\nthe village.  Instead, he took his party hurriedly to the river, where\nthey stole a number of canoes the blacks had hidden there.  The last\nthat had been seen of them they had been paddling strongly up-stream,\ntheir porters from Kaviri's village wielding the blades.\n\nSo once more Tarzan of the Apes with his hideous pack took up his\nsearch for the ape-man's son and the pursuit of his abductor.\n\nFor weary days they followed through an almost uninhabited country,\nonly to learn at last that they were upon the wrong trail.  The little\nband had been reduced by three, for three of Akut's apes had fallen in\nthe fighting at the village.   Now, with Akut, there were five great\napes, and Sheeta was there--and Mugambi and Tarzan.\n\nThe ape-man no longer heard rumors even of the three who had preceded\nRokoff--the white man and woman and the child.  Who the man and woman\nwere he could not guess, but that the child was his was enough to keep\nhim hot upon the trail.  He was sure that Rokoff would be following\nthis trio, and so he felt confident that so long as he could keep upon\nthe Russian's trail he would be winning so much nearer to the time he\nmight snatch his son from the dangers and horrors that menaced him.\n\nIn retracing their way after losing Rokoff's trail Tarzan picked it up\nagain at a point where the Russian had left the river and taken to the\nbrush in a northerly direction.  He could only account for this change\non the ground that the child had been carried away from the river by\nthe two who now had possession of it.\n\nNowhere along the way, however, could he gain definite information that\nmight assure him positively that the child was ahead of him.  Not a\nsingle native they questioned had seen or heard of this other party,\nthough nearly all had had direct experience with the Russian or had\ntalked with others who had.\n\nIt was with difficulty that Tarzan could find means to communicate with\nthe natives, as the moment their eyes fell upon his companions they\nfled precipitately into the bush.  His only alternative was to go ahead\nof his pack and waylay an occasional warrior whom he found alone in the\njungle.\n\nOne day as he was thus engaged, tracking an unsuspecting savage, he\ncame upon the fellow in the act of hurling a spear at a wounded white\nman who crouched in a clump of bush at the trail's side.  The white was\none whom Tarzan had often seen, and whom he recognized at once.\n\nDeep in his memory was implanted those repulsive features--the\nclose-set eyes, the shifty expression, the drooping yellow moustache.\n\nInstantly it occurred to the ape-man that this fellow had not been\namong those who had accompanied Rokoff at the village where Tarzan had\nbeen a prisoner.  He had seen them all, and this fellow had not been\nthere.  There could be but one explanation--he it was who had fled\nahead of the Russian with the woman and the child--and the woman had\nbeen Jane Clayton.   He was sure now of the meaning of Rokoff's words.\n\nThe ape-man's face went white as he looked upon the pasty, vice-marked\ncountenance of the Swede.  Across Tarzan's forehead stood out the broad\nband of scarlet that marked the scar where, years before, Terkoz had\ntorn a great strip of the ape-man's scalp from his skull in the fierce\nbattle in which Tarzan had sustained his fitness to the kingship of the\napes of Kerchak.\n\nThe man was his prey--the black should not have him, and with the\nthought he leaped upon the warrior, striking down the spear before it\ncould reach its mark.  The black, whipping out his knife, turned to do\nbattle with this new enemy, while the Swede, lying in the bush,\nwitnessed a duel, the like of which he had never dreamed to see--a\nhalf-naked white man battling with a half-naked black, hand to hand\nwith the crude weapons of primeval man at first, and then with hands\nand teeth like the primordial brutes from whose loins their forebears\nsprung.\n\nFor a time Anderssen did not recognize the white, and when at last it\ndawned upon him that he had seen this giant before, his eyes went wide\nin surprise that this growling, rending beast could ever have been the\nwell-groomed English gentleman who had been a prisoner aboard the\nKincaid.\n\nAn English nobleman!  He had learned the identity of the Kincaid's\nprisoners from Lady Greystoke during their flight up the Ugambi.\nBefore, in common with the other members of the crew of the steamer, he\nhad not known who the two might be.\n\nThe fight was over.  Tarzan had been compelled to kill his antagonist,\nas the fellow would not surrender.\n\nThe Swede saw the white man leap to his feet beside the corpse of his\nfoe, and placing one foot upon the broken neck lift his voice in the\nhideous challenge of the victorious bull-ape.\n\nAnderssen shuddered.  Then Tarzan turned toward him.  His face was cold\nand cruel, and in the grey eyes the Swede read murder.\n\n\"Where is my wife?\" growled the ape-man.  \"Where is the child?\"\n\nAnderssen tried to reply, but a sudden fit of coughing choked him.\nThere was an arrow entirely through his chest, and as he coughed the\nblood from his wounded lung poured suddenly from his mouth and nostrils.\n\nTarzan stood waiting for the paroxysm to pass.  Like a bronze\nimage--cold, hard, and relentless--he stood over the helpless man,\nwaiting to wring such information from him as he needed, and then to\nkill.\n\nPresently the coughing and haemorrhage ceased, and again the wounded\nman tried to speak.  Tarzan knelt near the faintly moving lips.\n\n\"The wife and child!\" he repeated.  \"Where are they?\"\n\nAnderssen pointed up the trail.\n\n\"The Russian--he got them,\" he whispered.\n\n\"How did you come here?\" continued Tarzan.  \"Why are you not with\nRokoff?\"\n\n\"They catch us,\" replied Anderssen, in a voice so low that the ape-man\ncould just distinguish the words.   \"They catch us.  Ay fight, but my\nmen they all run away.   Then they get me when Ay ban vounded.  Rokoff\nhe say leave me here for the hyenas.  That vas vorse than to kill.   He\ntak your vife and kid.\"\n\n\"What were you doing with them--where were you taking them?\" asked\nTarzan, and then fiercely, leaping close to the fellow with fierce eyes\nblazing with the passion of hate and vengeance that he had with\ndifficulty controlled, \"What harm did you do to my wife or child?\nSpeak quick before I kill you!  Make your peace with God!  Tell me the\nworst, or I will tear you to pieces with my hands and teeth.  You have\nseen that I can do it!\"\n\nA look of wide-eyed surprise overspread Anderssen's face.\n\n\"Why,\" he whispered, \"Ay did not hurt them.  Ay tried to save them from\nthat Russian.  Your vife was kind to me on the Kincaid, and Ay hear\nthat little baby cry sometimes.   Ay got a vife an' kid for my own by\nChristiania an' Ay couldn't bear for to see them separated an' in\nRokoff's hands any more.   That vas all.  Do Ay look like Ay ban here\nto hurt them?\" he continued after a pause, pointing to the arrow\nprotruding from his breast.\n\nThere was something in the man's tone and expression that convinced\nTarzan of the truth of his assertions.  More weighty than anything else\nwas the fact that Anderssen evidently seemed more hurt than frightened.\nHe knew he was going to die, so Tarzan's threats had little effect upon\nhim; but it was quite apparent that he wished the Englishman to know\nthe truth and not to wrong him by harbouring the belief that his words\nand manner indicated that he had entertained.\n\nThe ape-man instantly dropped to his knees beside the Swede.\n\n\"I am sorry,\" he said very simply.  \"I had looked for none but knaves\nin company with Rokoff.  I see that I was wrong.   That is past now,\nand we will drop it for the more important matter of getting you to a\nplace of comfort and looking after your wounds.  We must have you on\nyour feet again as soon as possible.\"\n\nThe Swede, smiling, shook his head.\n\n\"You go on an' look for the vife an' kid,\" he said.   \"Ay ban as gude\nas dead already; but\"--he hesitated--\"Ay hate to think of the hyenas.\nVon't you finish up this job?\"\n\nTarzan shuddered.  A moment ago he had been upon the point of killing\nthis man.  Now he could no more have taken his life than he could have\ntaken the life of any of his best friends.\n\nHe lifted the Swede's head in his arms to change and ease his position.\n\nAgain came a fit of coughing and the terrible haemorrhage.   After it\nwas over Anderssen lay with closed eyes.\n\nTarzan thought that he was dead, until he suddenly raised his eyes to\nthose of the ape-man, sighed, and spoke--in a very low, weak whisper.\n\n\"Ay tank it blow purty soon purty hard!\" he said, and died.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\nTambudza\n\n\nTarzan scooped a shallow grave for the Kincaid's cook, beneath whose\nrepulsive exterior had beaten the heart of a chivalrous gentleman.\nThat was all he could do in the cruel jungle for the man who had given\nhis life in the service of his little son and his wife.\n\nThen Tarzan took up again the pursuit of Rokoff.  Now that he was\npositive that the woman ahead of him was indeed Jane, and that she had\nagain fallen into the hands of the Russian, it seemed that with all the\nincredible speed of his fleet and agile muscles he moved at but a\nsnail's pace.\n\nIt was with difficulty that he kept the trail, for there were many\npaths through the jungle at this point--crossing and crisscrossing,\nforking and branching in all directions, and over them all had passed\nnatives innumerable, coming and going.   The spoor of the white men was\nobliterated by that of the native carriers who had followed them, and\nover all was the spoor of other natives and of wild beasts.\n\nIt was most perplexing; yet Tarzan kept on assiduously, checking his\nsense of sight against his sense of smell, that he might more surely\nkeep to the right trail.  But, with all his care, night found him at a\npoint where he was positive that he was on the wrong trail entirely.\n\nHe knew that the pack would follow his spoor, and so he had been\ncareful to make it as distinct as possible, brushing often against the\nvines and creepers that walled the jungle-path, and in other ways\nleaving his scent-spoor plainly discernible.\n\nAs darkness settled a heavy rain set in, and there was nothing for the\nbaffled ape-man to do but wait in the partial shelter of a huge tree\nuntil morning; but the coming of dawn brought no cessation of the\ntorrential downpour.\n\nFor a week the sun was obscured by heavy clouds, while violent rain and\nwind storms obliterated the last remnants of the spoor Tarzan\nconstantly though vainly sought.\n\nDuring all this time he saw no signs of natives, nor of his own pack,\nthe members of which he feared had lost his trail during the terrific\nstorm.  As the country was strange to him, he had been unable to judge\nhis course accurately, since he had had neither sun by day nor moon nor\nstars by night to guide him.\n\nWhen the sun at last broke through the clouds in the fore-noon of the\nseventh day, it looked down upon an almost frantic ape-man.\n\nFor the first time in his life, Tarzan of the Apes had been lost in the\njungle.  That the experience should have befallen him at such a time\nseemed cruel beyond expression.  Somewhere in this savage land his wife\nand son lay in the clutches of the arch-fiend Rokoff.\n\nWhat hideous trials might they not have undergone during those seven\nawful days that nature had thwarted him in his endeavours to locate\nthem?  Tarzan knew the Russian, in whose power they were, so well that\nhe could not doubt but that the man, filled with rage that Jane had\nonce escaped him, and knowing that Tarzan might be close upon his\ntrail, would wreak without further loss of time whatever vengeance his\npolluted mind might be able to conceive.\n\nBut now that the sun shone once more, the ape-man was still at a loss\nas to what direction to take.  He knew that Rokoff had left the river\nin pursuit of Anderssen, but whether he would continue inland or return\nto the Ugambi was a question.\n\nThe ape-man had seen that the river at the point he had left it was\ngrowing narrow and swift, so that he judged that it could not be\nnavigable even for canoes to any great distance farther toward its\nsource.  However, if Rokoff had not returned to the river, in what\ndirection had he proceeded?\n\nFrom the direction of Anderssen's flight with Jane and the child Tarzan\nwas convinced that the man had purposed attempting the tremendous feat\nof crossing the continent to Zanzibar; but whether Rokoff would dare so\ndangerous a journey or not was a question.\n\nFear might drive him to the attempt now that he knew the manner of\nhorrible pack that was upon his trail, and that Tarzan of the Apes was\nfollowing him to wreak upon him the vengeance that he deserved.\n\nAt last the ape-man determined to continue toward the northeast in the\ngeneral direction of German East Africa until he came upon natives from\nwhom he might gain information as to Rokoff's whereabouts.\n\nThe second day following the cessation of the rain Tarzan came upon a\nnative village the inhabitants of which fled into the bush the instant\ntheir eyes fell upon him.  Tarzan, not to be thwarted in any such\nmanner as this, pursued them, and after a brief chase caught up with a\nyoung warrior.  The fellow was so badly frightened that he was unable\nto defend himself, dropping his weapons and falling upon the ground,\nwide-eyed and screaming as he gazed on his captor.\n\nIt was with considerable difficulty that the ape-man quieted the\nfellow's fears sufficiently to obtain a coherent statement from him as\nto the cause of his uncalled-for terror.\n\nFrom him Tarzan learned, by dint of much coaxing, that a party of\nwhites had passed through the village several days before.  These men\nhad told them of a terrible white devil that pursued them, warning the\nnatives against it and the frightful pack of demons that accompanied it.\n\nThe black had recognized Tarzan as the white devil from the\ndescriptions given by the whites and their black servants.   Behind him\nhe had expected to see a horde of demons disguised as apes and panthers.\n\nIn this Tarzan saw the cunning hand of Rokoff.  The Russian was\nattempting to make travel as difficult as possible for him by turning\nthe natives against him in superstitious fear.\n\nThe native further told Tarzan that the white man who had led the\nrecent expedition had promised them a fabulous reward if they would\nkill the white devil.  This they had fully intended doing should the\nopportunity present itself; but the moment they had seen Tarzan their\nblood had turned to water, as the porters of the white men had told\nthem would be the case.\n\nFinding the ape-man made no attempt to harm him, the native at last\nrecovered his grasp upon his courage, and, at Tarzan's suggestion,\naccompanied the white devil back to the village, calling as he went for\nhis fellows to return also, as \"the white devil has promised to do you\nno harm if you come back right away and answer his questions.\"\n\nOne by one the blacks straggled into the village, but that their fears\nwere not entirely allayed was evident from the amount of white that\nshowed about the eyes of the majority of them as they cast constant and\napprehensive sidelong glances at the ape-man.\n\nThe chief was among the first to return to the village, and as it was\nhe that Tarzan was most anxious to interview, he lost no time in\nentering into a palaver with the black.\n\nThe fellow was short and stout, with an unusually low and degraded\ncountenance and apelike arms.  His whole expression denoted\ndeceitfulness.\n\nOnly the superstitious terror engendered in him by the stories poured\ninto his ears by the whites and blacks of the Russian's party kept him\nfrom leaping upon Tarzan with his warriors and slaying him forthwith,\nfor he and his people were inveterate maneaters.  But the fear that he\nmight indeed be a devil, and that out there in the jungle behind him\nhis fierce demons waited to do his bidding, kept M'ganwazam from\nputting his desires into action.\n\nTarzan questioned the fellow closely, and by comparing his statements\nwith those of the young warrior he had first talked with he learned\nthat Rokoff and his safari were in terror-stricken retreat in the\ndirection of the far East Coast.\n\nMany of the Russian's porters had already deserted him.   In that very\nvillage he had hanged five for theft and attempted desertion.  Judging,\nhowever, from what the Waganwazam had learned from those of the\nRussian's blacks who were not too far gone in terror of the brutal\nRokoff to fear even to speak of their plans, it was apparent that he\nwould not travel any great distance before the last of his porters,\ncooks, tent-boys, gun-bearers, askari, and even his headman, would have\nturned back into the bush, leaving him to the mercy of the merciless\njungle.\n\nM'ganwazam denied that there had been any white woman or child with the\nparty of whites; but even as he spoke Tarzan was convinced that he\nlied.  Several times the ape-man approached the subject from different\nangles, but never was he successful in surprising the wily cannibal\ninto a direct contradiction of his original statement that there had\nbeen no women or children with the party.\n\nTarzan demanded food of the chief, and after considerable haggling on\nthe part of the monarch succeeded in obtaining a meal.  He then tried\nto draw out others of the tribe, especially the young man whom he had\ncaptured in the bush, but M'ganwazam's presence sealed their lips.\n\nAt last, convinced that these people knew a great deal more than they\nhad told him concerning the whereabouts of the Russian and the fate of\nJane and the child, Tarzan determined to remain overnight among them in\nthe hope of discovering something further of importance.\n\nWhen he had stated his decision to the chief he was rather surprised to\nnote the sudden change in the fellow's attitude toward him.  From\napparent dislike and suspicion M'ganwazam became a most eager and\nsolicitous host.\n\nNothing would do but that the ape-man should occupy the best hut in the\nvillage, from which M'ganwazam's oldest wife was forthwith summarily\nejected, while the chief took up his temporary abode in the hut of one\nof his younger consorts.\n\nHad Tarzan chanced to recall the fact that a princely reward had been\noffered the blacks if they should succeed in killing him, he might have\nmore quickly interpreted M'ganwazam's sudden change in front.\n\nTo have the white giant sleeping peacefully in one of his own huts\nwould greatly facilitate the matter of earning the reward, and so the\nchief was urgent in his suggestions that Tarzan, doubtless being very\nmuch fatigued after his travels, should retire early to the comforts of\nthe anything but inviting palace.\n\nAs much as the ape-man detested the thought of sleeping within a native\nhut, he had determined to do so this night, on the chance that he might\nbe able to induce one of the younger men to sit and chat with him\nbefore the fire that burned in the centre of the smoke-filled dwelling,\nand from him draw the truths he sought.  So Tarzan accepted the\ninvitation of old M'ganwazam, insisting, however, that he much\npreferred sharing a hut with some of the younger men rather than\ndriving the chief's old wife out in the cold.\n\nThe toothless old hag grinned her appreciation of this suggestion, and\nas the plan still better suited the chief's scheme, in that it would\npermit him to surround Tarzan with a gang of picked assassins, he\nreadily assented, so that presently Tarzan had been installed in a hut\nclose to the village gate.\n\nAs there was to be a dance that night in honour of a band of recently\nreturned hunters, Tarzan was left alone in the hut, the young men, as\nM'ganwazam explained, having to take part in the festivities.\n\nAs soon as the ape-man was safely installed in the trap, M'Ganwazam\ncalled about him the young warriors whom he had selected to spend the\nnight with the white devil!\n\nNone of them was overly enthusiastic about the plan, since deep in\ntheir superstitious hearts lay an exaggerated fear of the strange white\ngiant; but the word of M'ganwazam was law among his people, so not one\ndared refuse the duty he was called upon to perform.\n\nAs M'ganwazam unfolded his plan in whispers to the savages squatting\nabout him the old, toothless hag, to whom Tarzan had saved her hut for\nthe night, hovered about the conspirators ostensibly to replenish the\nsupply of firewood for the blaze about which the men sat, but really to\ndrink in as much of their conversation as possible.\n\nTarzan had slept for perhaps an hour or two despite the savage din of\nthe revellers when his keen senses came suddenly alert to a\nsuspiciously stealthy movement in the hut in which he lay.  The fire\nhad died down to a little heap of glowing embers, which accentuated\nrather than relieved the darkness that shrouded the interior of the\nevil-smelling dwelling, yet the trained senses of the ape-man warned\nhim of another presence creeping almost silently toward him through the\ngloom.\n\nHe doubted that it was one of his hut mates returning from the\nfestivities, for he still heard the wild cries of the dancers and the\ndin of the tom-toms in the village street without.   Who could it be\nthat took such pains to conceal his approach?\n\nAs the presence came within reach of him the ape-man bounded lightly to\nthe opposite side of the hut, his spear poised ready at his side.\n\n\"Who is it,\" he asked, \"that creeps upon Tarzan of the Apes, like a\nhungry lion out of the darkness?\"\n\n\"Silence, bwana!\" replied an old cracked voice.  \"It is Tambudza--she\nwhose hut you would not take, and thus drive an old woman out into the\ncold night.\"\n\n\"What does Tambudza want of Tarzan of the Apes?\" asked the ape-man.\n\n\"You were kind to me to whom none is now kind, and I have come to warn\nyou in payment of your kindness,\" answered the old hag.\n\n\"Warn me of what?\"\n\n\"M'ganwazam has chosen the young men who are to sleep in the hut with\nyou,\" replied Tambudza.  \"I was near as he talked with them, and heard\nhim issuing his instructions to them.   When the dance is run well into\nthe morning they are to come to the hut.\n\n\"If you are awake they are to pretend that they have come to sleep, but\nif you sleep it is M'ganwazam's command that you be killed.  If you are\nnot then asleep they will wait quietly beside you until you do sleep,\nand then they will all fall upon you together and slay you.  M'ganwazam\nis determined to win the reward the white man has offered.\"\n\n\"I had forgotten the reward,\" said Tarzan, half to himself, and then he\nadded, \"How may M'ganwazam hope to collect the reward now that the\nwhite men who are my enemies have left his country and gone he knows\nnot where?\"\n\n\"Oh, they have not gone far,\" replied Tambudza.   \"M'ganwazam knows\nwhere they camp.  His runners could quickly overtake them--they move\nslowly.\"\n\n\"Where are they?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"Do you wish to come to them?\" asked Tambudza in way of reply.\n\nTarzan nodded.\n\n\"I cannot tell you where they lie so that you could come to the place\nyourself, but I could lead you to them, bwana.\"\n\nIn their interest in the conversation neither of the speakers had\nnoticed the little figure which crept into the darkness of the hut\nbehind them, nor did they see it when it slunk noiselessly out again.\n\nIt was little Buulaoo, the chief's son by one of his younger wives--a\nvindictive, degenerate little rascal who hated Tambudza, and was ever\nseeking opportunities to spy upon her and report her slightest breach\nof custom to his father.\n\n\"Come, then,\" said Tarzan quickly, \"let us be on our way.\"\n\nThis Buulaoo did not hear, for he was already legging it up the village\nstreet to where his hideous sire guzzled native beer, and watched the\nevolutions of the frantic dancers leaping high in the air and cavorting\nwildly in their hysterical capers.\n\nSo it happened that as Tarzan and Tambudza sneaked warily from the\nvillage and melted into the Stygian darkness of the jungle two lithe\nrunners took their way in the same direction, though by another trail.\n\nWhen they had come sufficiently far from the village to make it safe\nfor them to speak above a whisper, Tarzan asked the old woman if she\nhad seen aught of a white woman and a little child.\n\n\"Yes, bwana,\" replied Tambudza, \"there was a woman with them and a\nlittle child--a little white piccaninny.   It died here in our village\nof the fever and they buried it!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\nA Black Scoundrel\n\n\nWhen Jane Clayton regained consciousness she saw Anderssen standing\nover her, holding the baby in his arms.  As her eyes rested upon them\nan expression of misery and horror overspread her countenance.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" he asked.  \"You ban sick?\"\n\n\"Where is my baby?\" she cried, ignoring his questions.\n\nAnderssen held out the chubby infant, but she shook her head.\n\n\"It is not mine,\" she said.  \"You knew that it was not mine.   You are\na devil like the Russian.\"\n\nAnderssen's blue eyes stretched in surprise.\n\n\"Not yours!\" he exclaimed.  \"You tole me the kid aboard the Kincaid ban\nyour kid.\"\n\n\"Not this one,\" replied Jane dully.  \"The other.  Where is the other?\nThere must have been two.  I did not know about this one.\"\n\n\"There vasn't no other kid.  Ay tank this ban yours.  Ay am very sorry.\"\n\nAnderssen fidgeted about, standing first on one foot and then upon the\nother.  It was perfectly evident to Jane that he was honest in his\nprotestations of ignorance of the true identity of the child.\n\nPresently the baby commenced to crow, and bounce up and down in the\nSwede's arms, at the same time leaning forward with little hands\nout-reaching toward the young woman.\n\nShe could not withstand the appeal, and with a low cry she sprang to\nher feet and gathered the baby to her breast.\n\nFor a few minutes she wept silently, her face buried in the baby's\nsoiled little dress.  The first shock of disappointment that the tiny\nthing had not been her beloved Jack was giving way to a great hope that\nafter all some miracle had occurred to snatch her baby from Rokoff's\nhands at the last instant before the Kincaid sailed from England.\n\nThen, too, there was the mute appeal of this wee waif alone and unloved\nin the midst of the horrors of the savage jungle.   It was this thought\nmore than any other that had sent her mother's heart out to the\ninnocent babe, while still she suffered from disappointment that she\nhad been deceived in its identity.\n\n\"Have you no idea whose child this is?\" she asked Anderssen.\n\nThe man shook his head.\n\n\"Not now,\" he said.  \"If he ain't ban your kid, Ay don' know whose kid\nhe do ban.  Rokoff said it was yours.  Ay tank he tank so, too.\n\n\"What do we do with it now?  Ay can't go back to the Kincaid.   Rokoff\nwould have me shot; but you can go back.  Ay take you to the sea, and\nthen some of these black men they take you to the ship--eh?\"\n\n\"No! no!\" cried Jane.  \"Not for the world.  I would rather die than\nfall into the hands of that man again.  No, let us go on and take this\npoor little creature with us.  If God is willing we shall be saved in\none way or another.\"\n\nSo they again took up their flight through the wilderness, taking with\nthem a half-dozen of the Mosulas to carry provisions and the tents that\nAnderssen had smuggled aboard the small boat in preparation for the\nattempted escape.\n\nThe days and nights of torture that the young woman suffered were so\nmerged into one long, unbroken nightmare of hideousness that she soon\nlost all track of time.  Whether they had been wandering for days or\nyears she could not tell.   The one bright spot in that eternity of\nfear and suffering was the little child whose tiny hands had long since\nfastened their softly groping fingers firmly about her heart.\n\nIn a way the little thing took the place and filled the aching void\nthat the theft of her own baby had left.  It could never be the same,\nof course, but yet, day by day, she found her mother-love, enveloping\nthe waif more closely until she sometimes sat with closed eyes lost in\nthe sweet imagining that the little bundle of humanity at her breast\nwas truly her own.\n\nFor some time their progress inland was extremely slow.   Word came to\nthem from time to time through natives passing from the coast on\nhunting excursions that Rokoff had not yet guessed the direction of\ntheir flight.  This, and the desire to make the journey as light as\npossible for the gently bred woman, kept Anderssen to a slow advance of\nshort and easy marches with many rests.\n\nThe Swede insisted upon carrying the child while they travelled, and in\ncountless other ways did what he could to help Jane Clayton conserve\nher strength.  He had been terribly chagrined on discovering the\nmistake he had made in the identity of the baby, but once the young\nwoman became convinced that his motives were truly chivalrous she would\nnot permit him longer to upbraid himself for the error that he could\nnot by any means have avoided.\n\nAt the close of each day's march Anderssen saw to the erection of a\ncomfortable shelter for Jane and the child.   Her tent was always\npitched in the most favourable location.   The thorn boma round it was\nthe strongest and most impregnable that the Mosula could construct.\n\nHer food was the best that their limited stores and the rifle of the\nSwede could provide, but the thing that touched her heart the closest\nwas the gentle consideration and courtesy which the man always accorded\nher.\n\nThat such nobility of character could lie beneath so repulsive an\nexterior never ceased to be a source of wonder and amazement to her,\nuntil at last the innate chivalry of the man, and his unfailing\nkindliness and sympathy transformed his appearance in so far as Jane\nwas concerned until she saw only the sweetness of his character\nmirrored in his countenance.\n\nThey had commenced to make a little better progress when word reached\nthem that Rokoff was but a few marches behind them, and that he had at\nlast discovered the direction of their flight.  It was then that\nAnderssen took to the river, purchasing a canoe from a chief whose\nvillage lay a short distance from the Ugambi upon the bank of a\ntributary.\n\nThereafter the little party of fugitives fled up the broad Ugambi, and\nso rapid had their flight become that they no longer received word of\ntheir pursuers.  At the end of canoe navigation upon the river, they\nabandoned their canoe and took to the jungle.  Here progress became at\nonce arduous, slow, and dangerous.\n\nThe second day after leaving the Ugambi the baby fell ill with fever.\nAnderssen knew what the outcome must be, but he had not the heart to\ntell Jane Clayton the truth, for he had seen that the young woman had\ncome to love the child almost as passionately as though it had been her\nown flesh and blood.\n\nAs the baby's condition precluded farther advance, Anderssen withdrew a\nlittle from the main trail he had been following and built a camp in a\nnatural clearing on the bank of a little river.\n\nHere Jane devoted her every moment to caring for the tiny sufferer, and\nas though her sorrow and anxiety were not all that she could bear, a\nfurther blow came with the sudden announcement of one of the Mosula\nporters who had been foraging in the jungle adjacent that Rokoff and\nhis party were camped quite close to them, and were evidently upon\ntheir trail to this little nook which all had thought so excellent a\nhiding-place.\n\nThis information could mean but one thing, and that they must break\ncamp and fly onward regardless of the baby's condition.   Jane Clayton\nknew the traits of the Russian well enough to be positive that he would\nseparate her from the child the moment that he recaptured them, and she\nknew that separation would mean the immediate death of the baby.\n\nAs they stumbled forward through the tangled vegetation along an old\nand almost overgrown game trail the Mosula porters deserted them one by\none.\n\nThe men had been staunch enough in their devotion and loyalty as long\nas they were in no danger of being overtaken by the Russian and his\nparty.  They had heard, however, so much of the atrocious disposition\nof Rokoff that they had grown to hold him in mortal terror, and now\nthat they knew he was close upon them their timid hearts would fortify\nthem no longer, and as quickly as possible they deserted the three\nwhites.\n\nYet on and on went Anderssen and the girl.  The Swede went ahead, to\nhew a way through the brush where the path was entirely overgrown, so\nthat on this march it was necessary that the young woman carry the\nchild.\n\nAll day they marched.  Late in the afternoon they realized that they\nhad failed.  Close behind them they heard the noise of a large safari\nadvancing along the trail which they had cleared for their pursuers.\n\nWhen it became quite evident that they must be overtaken in a short\ntime Anderssen hid Jane behind a large tree, covering her and the child\nwith brush.\n\n\"There is a village about a mile farther on,\" he said to her.   \"The\nMosula told me its location before they deserted us.   Ay try to lead\nthe Russian off your trail, then you go on to the village.  Ay tank the\nchief ban friendly to white men--the Mosula tal me he ban.  Anyhow,\nthat was all we can do.\n\n\"After while you get chief to tak you down by the Mosula village at the\nsea again, an' after a while a ship is sure to put into the mouth of\nthe Ugambi.  Then you be all right.  Gude-by an' gude luck to you,\nlady!\"\n\n\"But where are you going, Sven?\" asked Jane.  \"Why can't you hide here\nand go back to the sea with me?\"\n\n\"Ay gotta tal the Russian you ban dead, so that he don't luke for you\nno more,\" and Anderssen grinned.\n\n\"Why can't you join me then after you have told him that?\" insisted the\ngirl.\n\nAnderssen shook his head.\n\n\"Ay don't tank Ay join anybody any more after Ay tal the Russian you\nban dead,\" he said.\n\n\"You don't mean that you think he will kill you?\" asked Jane, and yet\nin her heart she knew that that was exactly what the great scoundrel\nwould do in revenge for his having been thwarted by the Swede.\nAnderssen did not reply, other than to warn her to silence and point\ntoward the path along which they had just come.\n\n\"I don't care,\" whispered Jane Clayton.  \"I shall not let you die to\nsave me if I can prevent it in any way.  Give me your revolver.  I can\nuse that, and together we may be able to hold them off until we can\nfind some means of escape.\"\n\n\"It won't work, lady,\" replied Anderssen.  \"They would only get us\nboth, and then Ay couldn't do you no good at all.   Think of the kid,\nlady, and what it would be for you both to fall into Rokoff's hands\nagain.  For his sake you must do what Ay say.  Here, take my rifle and\nammunition; you may need them.\"\n\nHe shoved the gun and bandoleer into the shelter beside Jane.   Then he\nwas gone.\n\nShe watched him as he returned along the path to meet the oncoming\nsafari of the Russian.  Soon a turn in the trail hid him from view.\n\nHer first impulse was to follow.  With the rifle she might be of\nassistance to him, and, further, she could not bear the terrible\nthought of being left alone at the mercy of the fearful jungle without\na single friend to aid her.\n\nShe started to crawl from her shelter with the intention of running\nafter Anderssen as fast as she could.  As she drew the baby close to\nher she glanced down into its little face.\n\nHow red it was!  How unnatural the little thing looked.   She raised\nthe cheek to hers.  It was fiery hot with fever!\n\nWith a little gasp of terror Jane Clayton rose to her feet in the\njungle path.  The rifle and bandoleer lay forgotten in the shelter\nbeside her.  Anderssen was forgotten, and Rokoff, and her great peril.\n\nAll that rioted through her fear-mad brain was the fearful fact that\nthis little, helpless child was stricken with the terrible\njungle-fever, and that she was helpless to do aught to allay its\nsufferings--sufferings that were sure to come during ensuing\nintervals of partial consciousness.\n\nHer one thought was to find some one who could help her--some woman who\nhad had children of her own--and with the thought came recollection of\nthe friendly village of which Anderssen had spoken.  If she could but\nreach it--in time!\n\nThere was no time to be lost.  Like a startled antelope she turned and\nfled up the trail in the direction Anderssen had indicated.\n\nFrom far behind came the sudden shouting of men, the sound of shots,\nand then silence.  She knew that Anderssen had met the Russian.\n\nA half-hour later she stumbled, exhausted, into a little thatched\nvillage.  Instantly she was surrounded by men, women, and children.\nEager, curious, excited natives plied her with a hundred questions, no\none of which she could understand or answer.\n\nAll that she could do was to point tearfully at the baby, now wailing\npiteously in her arms, and repeat over and over, \"Fever--fever--fever.\"\n\nThe blacks did not understand her words, but they saw the cause of her\ntrouble, and soon a young woman had pulled her into a hut and with\nseveral others was doing her poor best to quiet the child and allay its\nagony.\n\nThe witch doctor came and built a little fire before the infant, upon\nwhich he boiled some strange concoction in a small earthen pot, making\nweird passes above it and mumbling strange, monotonous chants.\nPresently he dipped a zebra's tail into the brew, and with further\nmutterings and incantations sprinkled a few drops of the liquid over\nthe baby's face.\n\nAfter he had gone the women sat about and moaned and wailed until Jane\nthought that she should go mad; but, knowing that they were doing it\nall out of the kindness of their hearts, she endured the frightful\nwaking nightmare of those awful hours in dumb and patient suffering.\n\nIt must have been well toward midnight that she became conscious of a\nsudden commotion in the village.  She heard the voices of the natives\nraised in controversy, but she could not understand the words.\n\nPresently she heard footsteps approaching the hut in which she squatted\nbefore a bright fire with the baby on her lap.   The little thing lay\nvery still now, its lids, half-raised, showed the pupils horribly\nupturned.\n\nJane Clayton looked into the little face with fear-haunted eyes.  It\nwas not her baby--not her flesh and blood--but how close, how dear the\ntiny, helpless thing had become to her.   Her heart, bereft of its own,\nhad gone out to this poor, little, nameless waif, and lavished upon it\nall the love that had been denied her during the long, bitter weeks of\nher captivity aboard the Kincaid.\n\nShe saw that the end was near, and though she was terrified at\ncontemplation of her loss, still she hoped that it would come quickly\nnow and end the sufferings of the little victim.\n\nThe footsteps she had heard without the hut now halted before the door.\nThere was a whispered colloquy, and a moment later M'ganwazam, chief of\nthe tribe, entered.  She had seen but little of him, as the women had\ntaken her in hand almost as soon as she had entered the village.\n\nM'ganwazam, she now saw, was an evil-appearing savage with every mark\nof brutal degeneracy writ large upon his bestial countenance.  To Jane\nClayton he looked more gorilla than human.  He tried to converse with\nher, but without success, and finally he called to some one without.\n\nIn answer to his summons another Negro entered--a man of very different\nappearance from M'ganwazam--so different, in fact, that Jane Clayton\nimmediately decided that he was of another tribe.  This man acted as\ninterpreter, and almost from the first question that M'ganwazam put to\nher, Jane felt an intuitive conviction that the savage was attempting\nto draw information from her for some ulterior motive.\n\nShe thought it strange that the fellow should so suddenly have become\ninterested in her plans, and especially in her intended destination\nwhen her journey had been interrupted at his village.\n\nSeeing no reason for withholding the information, she told him the\ntruth; but when he asked if she expected to meet her husband at the end\nof the trip, she shook her head negatively.\n\nThen he told her the purpose of his visit, talking through the\ninterpreter.\n\n\"I have just learned,\" he said, \"from some men who live by the side of\nthe great water, that your husband followed you up the Ugambi for\nseveral marches, when he was at last set upon by natives and killed.\nTherefore I have told you this that you might not waste your time in a\nlong journey if you expected to meet your husband at the end of it; but\ninstead could turn and retrace your steps to the coast.\"\n\nJane thanked M'ganwazam for his kindness, though her heart was numb\nwith suffering at this new blow.  She who had suffered so much was at\nlast beyond reach of the keenest of misery's pangs, for her senses were\nnumbed and calloused.\n\nWith bowed head she sat staring with unseeing eyes upon the face of the\nbaby in her lap.  M'ganwazam had left the hut.   Sometime later she\nheard a noise at the entrance--another had entered.  One of the women\nsitting opposite her threw a faggot upon the dying embers of the fire\nbetween them.\n\nWith a sudden flare it burst into renewed flame, lighting up the hut's\ninterior as though by magic.\n\nThe flame disclosed to Jane Clayton's horrified gaze that the baby was\nquite dead.  How long it had been so she could not guess.\n\nA choking lump rose to her throat, her head drooped in silent misery\nupon the little bundle that she had caught suddenly to her breast.\n\nFor a moment the silence of the hut was unbroken.  Then the native\nwoman broke into a hideous wail.\n\nA man coughed close before Jane Clayton and spoke her name.\n\nWith a start she raised her eyes to look into the sardonic countenance\nof Nikolas Rokoff.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\nEscape\n\n\nFor a moment Rokoff stood sneering down upon Jane Clayton, then his\neyes fell to the little bundle in her lap.  Jane had drawn one corner\nof the blanket over the child's face, so that to one who did not know\nthe truth it seemed but to be sleeping.\n\n\"You have gone to a great deal of unnecessary trouble,\" said Rokoff,\n\"to bring the child to this village.  If you had attended to your own\naffairs I should have brought it here myself.\n\n\"You would have been spared the dangers and fatigue of the journey.\nBut I suppose I must thank you for relieving me of the inconvenience of\nhaving to care for a young infant on the march.\n\n\"This is the village to which the child was destined from the first.\nM'ganwazam will rear him carefully, making a good cannibal of him, and\nif you ever chance to return to civilization it will doubtless afford\nyou much food for thought as you compare the luxuries and comforts of\nyour life with the details of the life your son is living in the\nvillage of the Waganwazam.\n\n\"Again I thank you for bringing him here for me, and now I must ask you\nto surrender him to me, that I may turn him over to his foster\nparents.\" As he concluded Rokoff held out his hands for the child, a\nnasty grin of vindictiveness upon his lips.\n\nTo his surprise Jane Clayton rose and, without a word of protest, laid\nthe little bundle in his arms.\n\n\"Here is the child,\" she said.  \"Thank God he is beyond your power to\nharm.\"\n\nGrasping the import of her words, Rokoff snatched the blanket from the\nchild's face to seek confirmation of his fears.   Jane Clayton watched\nhis expression closely.\n\nShe had been puzzled for days for an answer to the question of Rokoff's\nknowledge of the child's identity.  If she had been in doubt before the\nlast shred of that doubt was wiped away as she witnessed the terrible\nanger of the Russian as he looked upon the dead face of the baby and\nrealized that at the last moment his dearest wish for vengeance had\nbeen thwarted by a higher power.\n\nAlmost throwing the body of the child back into Jane Clayton's arms,\nRokoff stamped up and down the hut, pounding the air with his clenched\nfists and cursing terribly.  At last he halted in front of the young\nwoman, bringing his face down close to hers.\n\n\"You are laughing at me,\" he shrieked.  \"You think that you have beaten\nme--eh?  I'll show you, as I have shown the miserable ape you call\n'husband,' what it means to interfere with the plans of Nikolas Rokoff.\n\n\"You have robbed me of the child.  I cannot make him the son of a\ncannibal chief, but\"--and he paused as though to let the full meaning\nof his threat sink deep--\"I can make the mother the wife of a cannibal,\nand that I shall do--after I have finished with her myself.\"\n\nIf he had thought to wring from Jane Clayton any sign of terror he\nfailed miserably.  She was beyond that.  Her brain and nerves were numb\nto suffering and shock.\n\nTo his surprise a faint, almost happy smile touched her lips.   She was\nthinking with thankful heart that this poor little corpse was not that\nof her own wee Jack, and that--best of all--Rokoff evidently did not\nknow the truth.\n\nShe would have liked to have flaunted the fact in his face, but she\ndared not.  If he continued to believe that the child had been hers, so\nmuch safer would be the real Jack wherever he might be.  She had, of\ncourse, no knowledge of the whereabouts of her little son--she did not\nknow, even, that he still lived, and yet there was the chance that he\nmight.\n\nIt was more than possible that without Rokoff's knowledge this child\nhad been substituted for hers by one of the Russian's confederates, and\nthat even now her son might be safe with friends in London, where there\nwere many, both able and willing, to have paid any ransom which the\ntraitorous conspirator might have asked for the safe release of Lord\nGreystoke's son.\n\nShe had thought it all out a hundred times since she had discovered\nthat the baby which Anderssen had placed in her arms that night upon\nthe Kincaid was not her own, and it had been a constant and gnawing\nsource of happiness to her to dream the whole fantasy through in its\nevery detail.\n\nNo, the Russian must never know that this was not her baby.   She\nrealized that her position was hopeless--with Anderssen and her husband\ndead there was no one in all the world with a desire to succour her who\nknew where she might be found.\n\nRokoff's threat, she realized, was no idle one.  That he would do, or\nattempt to do, all that he had promised, she was perfectly sure; but at\nthe worst it meant but a little earlier release from the hideous\nanguish that she had been enduring.   She must find some way to take\nher own life before the Russian could harm her further.\n\nJust now she wanted time--time to think and prepare herself for the\nend.  She felt that she could not take the last, awful step until she\nhad exhausted every possibility of escape.   She did not care to live\nunless she might find her way back to her own child, but slight as such\na hope appeared she would not admit its impossibility until the last\nmoment had come, and she faced the fearful reality of choosing between\nthe final alternatives--Nikolas Rokoff on one hand and self-destruction\nupon the other.\n\n\"Go away!\" she said to the Russian.  \"Go away and leave me in peace\nwith my dead.  Have you not brought sufficient misery and anguish upon\nme without attempting to harm me further?  What wrong have I ever done\nyou that you should persist in persecuting me?\"\n\n\"You are suffering for the sins of the monkey you chose when you might\nhave had the love of a gentleman--of Nikolas Rokoff,\" he replied.  \"But\nwhere is the use in discussing the matter?  We shall bury the child\nhere, and you will return with me at once to my own camp.  Tomorrow I\nshall bring you back and turn you over to your new husband--the lovely\nM'ganwazam.  Come!\"\n\nHe reached out for the child.  Jane, who was on her feet now, turned\naway from him.\n\n\"I shall bury the body,\" she said.  \"Send some men to dig a grave\noutside the village.\"\n\nRokoff was anxious to have the thing over and get back to his camp with\nhis victim.  He thought he saw in her apathy a resignation to her fate.\nStepping outside the hut, he motioned her to follow him, and a moment\nlater, with his men, he escorted Jane beyond the village, where beneath\na great tree the blacks scooped a shallow grave.\n\nWrapping the tiny body in a blanket, Jane laid it tenderly in the black\nhole, and, turning her head that she might not see the mouldy earth\nfalling upon the pitiful little bundle, she breathed a prayer beside\nthe grave of the nameless waif that had won its way to the innermost\nrecesses of her heart.\n\nThen, dry-eyed but suffering, she rose and followed the Russian through\nthe Stygian blackness of the jungle, along the winding, leafy corridor\nthat led from the village of M'ganwazam, the black cannibal, to the\ncamp of Nikolas Rokoff, the white fiend.\n\nBeside them, in the impenetrable thickets that fringed the path, rising\nto arch above it and shut out the moon, the girl could hear the\nstealthy, muffled footfalls of great beasts, and ever round about them\nrose the deafening roars of hunting lions, until the earth trembled to\nthe mighty sound.\n\nThe porters lighted torches now and waved them upon either hand to\nfrighten off the beasts of prey.  Rokoff urged them to greater speed,\nand from the quavering note in his voice Jane Clayton knew that he was\nweak from terror.\n\nThe sounds of the jungle night recalled most vividly the days and\nnights that she had spent in a similar jungle with her forest god--with\nthe fearless and unconquerable Tarzan of the Apes.  Then there had been\nno thoughts of terror, though the jungle noises were new to her, and\nthe roar of a lion had seemed the most awe-inspiring sound upon the\ngreat earth.\n\nHow different would it be now if she knew that he was somewhere there\nin the wilderness, seeking her!  Then, indeed, would there be that for\nwhich to live, and every reason to believe that succour was close at\nhand--but he was dead!  It was incredible that it should be so.\n\nThere seemed no place in death for that great body and those mighty\nthews.  Had Rokoff been the one to tell her of her lord's passing she\nwould have known that he lied.   There could be no reason, she thought,\nwhy M'ganwazam should have deceived her.  She did not know that the\nRussian had talked with the savage a few minutes before the chief had\ncome to her with his tale.\n\nAt last they reached the rude boma that Rokoff's porters had thrown up\nround the Russian's camp.  Here they found all in turmoil.  She did not\nknow what it was all about, but she saw that Rokoff was very angry, and\nfrom bits of conversation which she could translate she gleaned that\nthere had been further desertions while he had been absent, and that\nthe deserters had taken the bulk of his food and ammunition.\n\nWhen he had done venting his rage upon those who remained he returned\nto where Jane stood under guard of a couple of his white sailors.  He\ngrasped her roughly by the arm and started to drag her toward his tent.\nThe girl struggled and fought to free herself, while the two sailors\nstood by, laughing at the rare treat.\n\nRokoff did not hesitate to use rough methods when he found that he was\nto have difficulty in carrying out his designs.   Repeatedly he struck\nJane Clayton in the face, until at last, half-conscious, she was\ndragged within his tent.\n\nRokoff's boy had lighted the Russian's lamp, and now at a word from his\nmaster he made himself scarce.  Jane had sunk to the floor in the\nmiddle of the enclosure.  Slowly her numbed senses were returning to\nher and she was commencing to think very fast indeed.  Quickly her eyes\nran round the interior of the tent, taking in every detail of its\nequipment and contents.\n\nNow the Russian was lifting her to her feet and attempting to drag her\nto the camp cot that stood at one side of the tent.   At his belt hung\na heavy revolver.  Jane Clayton's eyes riveted themselves upon it.  Her\npalm itched to grasp the huge butt.   She feigned again to swoon, but\nthrough her half-closed lids she waited her opportunity.\n\nIt came just as Rokoff was lifting her upon the cot.  A noise at the\ntent door behind him brought his head quickly about and away from the\ngirl.  The butt of the gun was not an inch from her hand.  With a\nsingle, lightning-like move she snatched the weapon from its holster,\nand at the same instant Rokoff turned back toward her, realizing his\nperil.\n\nShe did not dare fire for fear the shot would bring his people about\nhim, and with Rokoff dead she would fall into hands no better than his\nand to a fate probably even worse than he alone could have imagined.\nThe memory of the two brutes who stood and laughed as Rokoff struck her\nwas still vivid.\n\nAs the rage and fear-filled countenance of the Slav turned toward her\nJane Clayton raised the heavy revolver high above the pasty face and\nwith all her strength dealt the man a terrific blow between the eyes.\n\nWithout a sound he sank, limp and unconscious, to the ground.   A\nmoment later the girl stood beside him--for a moment at least free from\nthe menace of his lust.\n\nOutside the tent she again heard the noise that had distracted Rokoff's\nattention.  What it was she did not know, but, fearing the return of\nthe servant and the discovery of her deed, she stepped quickly to the\ncamp table upon which burned the oil lamp and extinguished the smudgy,\nevil-smelling flame.\n\nIn the total darkness of the interior she paused for a moment to\ncollect her wits and plan for the next step in her venture for freedom.\n\nAbout her was a camp of enemies.  Beyond these foes a black wilderness\nof savage jungle peopled by hideous beasts of prey and still more\nhideous human beasts.\n\nThere was little or no chance that she could survive even a few days of\nthe constant dangers that would confront her there; but the knowledge\nthat she had already passed through so many perils unscathed, and that\nsomewhere out in the faraway world a little child was doubtless at that\nvery moment crying for her, filled her with determination to make the\neffort to accomplish the seemingly impossible and cross that awful land\nof horror in search of the sea and the remote chance of succour she\nmight find there.\n\nRokoff's tent stood almost exactly in the centre of the boma.\nSurrounding it were the tents and shelters of his white companions and\nthe natives of his safari.  To pass through these and find egress\nthrough the boma seemed a task too fraught with insurmountable\nobstacles to warrant even the slightest consideration, and yet there\nwas no other way.\n\nTo remain in the tent until she should be discovered would be to set at\nnaught all that she had risked to gain her freedom, and so with\nstealthy step and every sense alert she approached the back of the tent\nto set out upon the first stage of her adventure.\n\nGroping along the rear of the canvas wall, she found that there was no\nopening there.  Quickly she returned to the side of the unconscious\nRussian.  In his belt her groping fingers came upon the hilt of a long\nhunting-knife, and with this she cut a hole in the back wall of the\ntent.\n\nSilently she stepped without.  To her immense relief she saw that the\ncamp was apparently asleep.  In the dim and flickering light of the\ndying fires she saw but a single sentry, and he was dozing upon his\nhaunches at the opposite side of the enclosure.\n\nKeeping the tent between him and herself, she crossed between the small\nshelters of the native porters to the boma wall beyond.\n\nOutside, in the darkness of the tangled jungle, she could hear the\nroaring of lions, the laughing of hyenas, and the countless, nameless\nnoises of the midnight jungle.\n\nFor a moment she hesitated, trembling.  The thought of the prowling\nbeasts out there in the darkness was appalling.   Then, with a sudden\nbrave toss of her head, she attacked the thorny boma wall with her\ndelicate hands.  Torn and bleeding though they were, she worked on\nbreathlessly until she had made an opening through which she could worm\nher body, and at last she stood outside the enclosure.\n\nBehind her lay a fate worse than death, at the hands of human beings.\n\nBefore her lay an almost certain fate--but it was only death--sudden,\nmerciful, and honourable death.\n\nWithout a tremor and without regret she darted away from the camp, and\na moment later the mysterious jungle had closed about her.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\nAlone in the Jungle\n\n\nTambudza, leading Tarzan of the Apes toward the camp of the Russian,\nmoved very slowly along the winding jungle path, for she was old and\nher legs stiff with rheumatism.\n\nSo it was that the runners dispatched by M'ganwazam to warn Rokoff that\nthe white giant was in his village and that he would be slain that\nnight reached the Russian's camp before Tarzan and his ancient guide\nhad covered half the distance.\n\nThe guides found the white man's camp in a turmoil.   Rokoff had that\nmorning been discovered stunned and bleeding within his tent.  When he\nhad recovered his senses and realized that Jane Clayton had escaped,\nhis rage was boundless.\n\nRushing about the camp with his rifle, he had sought to shoot down the\nnative sentries who had allowed the young woman to elude their\nvigilance, but several of the other whites, realizing that they were\nalready in a precarious position owing to the numerous desertions that\nRokoff's cruelty had brought about, seized and disarmed him.\n\nThen came the messengers from M'ganwazam, but scarce had they told\ntheir story and Rokoff was preparing to depart with them for their\nvillage when other runners, panting from the exertions of their swift\nflight through the jungle, rushed breathless into the firelight, crying\nthat the great white giant had escaped from M'ganwazam and was already\non his way to wreak vengeance against his enemies.\n\nInstantly confusion reigned within the encircling boma.  The blacks\nbelonging to Rokoff's safari were terror-stricken at the thought of the\nproximity of the white giant who hunted through the jungle with a\nfierce pack of apes and panthers at his heels.\n\nBefore the whites realized what had happened the superstitious fears of\nthe natives had sent them scurrying into the bush--their own carriers\nas well as the messengers from M'ganwazam--but even in their haste they\nhad not neglected to take with them every article of value upon which\nthey could lay their hands.\n\nThus Rokoff and the seven white sailors found themselves deserted and\nrobbed in the midst of a wilderness.\n\nThe Russian, following his usual custom, berated his companions, laying\nall the blame upon their shoulders for the events which had led up to\nthe almost hopeless condition in which they now found themselves; but\nthe sailors were in no mood to brook his insults and his cursing.\n\nIn the midst of this tirade one of them drew a revolver and fired\npoint-blank at the Russian.  The fellow's aim was poor, but his act so\nterrified Rokoff that he turned and fled for his tent.\n\nAs he ran his eyes chanced to pass beyond the boma to the edge of the\nforest, and there he caught a glimpse of that which sent his craven\nheart cold with a fear that almost expunged his terror of the seven men\nat his back, who by this time were all firing in hate and revenge at\nhis retreating figure.\n\nWhat he saw was the giant figure of an almost naked white man emerging\nfrom the bush.\n\nDarting into his tent, the Russian did not halt in his flight, but kept\nright on through the rear wall, taking advantage of the long slit that\nJane Clayton had made the night before.\n\nThe terror-stricken Muscovite scurried like a hunted rabbit through the\nhole that still gaped in the boma's wall at the point where his own\nprey had escaped, and as Tarzan approached the camp upon the opposite\nside Rokoff disappeared into the jungle in the wake of Jane Clayton.\n\nAs the ape-man entered the boma with old Tambudza at his elbow the\nseven sailors, recognizing him, turned and fled in the opposite\ndirection.  Tarzan saw that Rokoff was not among them, and so he let\nthem go their way--his business was with the Russian, whom he expected\nto find in his tent.  As to the sailors, he was sure that the jungle\nwould exact from them expiation for their villainies, nor, doubtless,\nwas he wrong, for his were the last white man's eyes to rest upon any\nof them.\n\nFinding Rokoff's tent empty, Tarzan was about to set out in search of\nthe Russian when Tambudza suggested to him that the departure of the\nwhite man could only have resulted from word reaching him from\nM'ganwazam that Tarzan was in his village.\n\n\"He has doubtless hastened there,\" argued the old woman.  \"If you would\nfind him let us return at once.\"\n\nTarzan himself thought that this would probably prove to be the fact,\nso he did not waste time in an endeavour to locate the Russian's trail,\nbut, instead, set out briskly for the village of M'ganwazam, leaving\nTambudza to plod slowly in his wake.\n\nHis one hope was that Jane was still safe and with Rokoff.   If this\nwas the case, it would be but a matter of an hour or more before he\nshould be able to wrest her from the Russian.\n\nHe knew now that M'ganwazam was treacherous and that he might have to\nfight to regain possession of his wife.   He wished that Mugambi,\nSheeta, Akut, and the balance of the pack were with him, for he\nrealized that single-handed it would be no child's play to bring Jane\nsafely from the clutches of two such scoundrels as Rokoff and the wily\nM'ganwazam.\n\nTo his surprise he found no sign of either Rokoff or Jane in the\nvillage, and as he could not trust the word of the chief, he wasted no\ntime in futile inquiry.  So sudden and unexpected had been his return,\nand so quickly had he vanished into the jungle after learning that\nthose he sought were not among the Waganwazam, that old M'ganwazam had\nno time to prevent his going.\n\nSwinging through the trees, he hastened back to the deserted camp he\nhad so recently left, for here, he knew, was the logical place to take\nup the trail of Rokoff and Jane.\n\nArrived at the boma, he circled carefully about the outside of the\nenclosure until, opposite a break in the thorny wall, he came to\nindications that something had recently passed into the jungle.  His\nacute sense of smell told him that both of those he sought had fled\nfrom the camp in this direction, and a moment later he had taken up the\ntrail and was following the faint spoor.\n\nFar ahead of him a terror-stricken young woman was slinking along a\nnarrow game-trail, fearful that the next moment would bring her face to\nface with some savage beast or equally savage man.  As she ran on,\nhoping against hope that she had hit upon the direction that would lead\nher eventually to the great river, she came suddenly upon a familiar\nspot.\n\nAt one side of the trail, beneath a giant tree, lay a little heap of\nloosely piled brush--to her dying day that little spot of jungle would\nbe indelibly impressed upon her memory.   It was where Anderssen had\nhidden her--where he had given up his life in the vain effort to save\nher from Rokoff.\n\nAt sight of it she recalled the rifle and ammunition that the man had\nthrust upon her at the last moment.  Until now she had forgotten them\nentirely.  Still clutched in her hand was the revolver she had snatched\nfrom Rokoff's belt, but that could contain at most not over six\ncartridges--not enough to furnish her with food and protection both on\nthe long journey to the sea.\n\nWith bated breath she groped beneath the little mound, scarce daring to\nhope that the treasure remained where she had left it; but, to her\ninfinite relief and joy, her hand came at once upon the barrel of the\nheavy weapon and then upon the bandoleer of cartridges.\n\nAs she threw the latter about her shoulder and felt the weight of the\nbig game-gun in her hand a sudden sense of security suffused her.  It\nwas with new hope and a feeling almost of assured success that she\nagain set forward upon her journey.\n\nThat night she slept in the crotch of a tree, as Tarzan had so often\ntold her that he was accustomed to doing, and early the next morning\nwas upon her way again.  Late in the afternoon, as she was about to\ncross a little clearing, she was startled at the sight of a huge ape\ncoming from the jungle upon the opposite side.\n\nThe wind was blowing directly across the clearing between them, and\nJane lost no time in putting herself downwind from the huge creature.\nThen she hid in a clump of heavy bush and watched, holding the rifle\nready for instant use.\n\nTo her consternation she saw that the apes were pausing in the centre\nof the clearing.  They came together in a little knot, where they stood\nlooking backward, as though in expectation of the coming of others of\ntheir tribe.   Jane wished that they would go on, for she knew that at\nany moment some little, eddying gust of wind might carry her scent down\nto their nostrils, and then what would the protection of her rifle\namount to in the face of those gigantic muscles and mighty fangs?\n\nHer eyes moved back and forth between the apes and the edge of the\njungle toward which they were gazing until at last she perceived the\nobject of their halt and the thing that they awaited.  They were being\nstalked.\n\nOf this she was positive, as she saw the lithe, sinewy form of a\npanther glide noiselessly from the jungle at the point at which the\napes had emerged but a moment before.\n\nQuickly the beast trotted across the clearing toward the anthropoids.\nJane wondered at their apparent apathy, and a moment later her wonder\nturned to amazement as she saw the great cat come quite close to the\napes, who appeared entirely unconcerned by its presence, and, squatting\ndown in their midst, fell assiduously to the business of preening,\nwhich occupies most of the waking hours of the cat family.\n\nIf the young woman was surprised by the sight of these natural enemies\nfraternizing, it was with emotions little short of fear for her own\nsanity that she presently saw a tall, muscular warrior enter the\nclearing and join the group of savage beasts assembled there.\n\nAt first sight of the man she had been positive that he would be torn\nto pieces, and she had half risen from her shelter, raising her rifle\nto her shoulder to do what she could to avert the man's terrible fate.\n\nNow she saw that he seemed actually conversing with the beasts--issuing\norders to them.\n\nPresently the entire company filed on across the clearing and\ndisappeared in the jungle upon the opposite side.\n\nWith a gasp of mingled incredulity and relief Jane Clayton staggered to\nher feet and fled on away from the terrible horde that had just passed\nher, while a half-mile behind her another individual, following the\nsame trail as she, lay frozen with terror behind an ant-hill as the\nhideous band passed quite close to him.\n\nThis one was Rokoff; but he had recognized the members of the awful\naggregation as allies of Tarzan of the Apes.   No sooner, therefore,\nhad the beasts passed him than he rose and raced through the jungle as\nfast as he could go, in order that he might put as much distance as\npossible between himself and these frightful beasts.\n\nSo it happened that as Jane Clayton came to the bank of the river, down\nwhich she hoped to float to the ocean and eventual rescue, Nikolas\nRokoff was but a short distance in her rear.\n\nUpon the bank the girl saw a great dugout drawn half-way from the water\nand tied securely to a near-by tree.\n\nThis, she felt, would solve the question of transportation to the sea\ncould she but launch the huge, unwieldy craft.   Unfastening the rope\nthat had moored it to the tree, Jane pushed frantically upon the bow of\nthe heavy canoe, but for all the results that were apparent she might\nas well have been attempting to shove the earth out of its orbit.\n\nShe was about winded when it occurred to her to try working the dugout\ninto the stream by loading the stern with ballast and then rocking the\nbow back and forth along the bank until the craft eventually worked\nitself into the river.\n\nThere were no stones or rocks available, but along the shore she found\nquantities of driftwood deposited by the river at a slightly higher\nstage.  These she gathered and piled far in the stern of the boat,\nuntil at last, to her immense relief, she saw the bow rise gently from\nthe mud of the bank and the stern drift slowly with the current until\nit again lodged a few feet farther down-stream.\n\nJane found that by running back and forth between the bow and stern she\ncould alternately raise and lower each end of the boat as she shifted\nher weight from one end to the other, with the result that each time\nshe leaped to the stern the canoe moved a few inches farther into the\nriver.\n\nAs the success of her plan approached more closely to fruition she\nbecame so wrapped in her efforts that she failed to note the figure of\na man standing beneath a huge tree at the edge of the jungle from which\nhe had just emerged.\n\nHe watched her and her labours with a cruel and malicious grin upon his\nswarthy countenance.\n\nThe boat at last became so nearly free of the retarding mud and of the\nbank that Jane felt positive that she could pole it off into deeper\nwater with one of the paddles which lay in the bottom of the rude\ncraft.  With this end in view she seized upon one of these implements\nand had just plunged it into the river bottom close to the shore when\nher eyes happened to rise to the edge of the jungle.\n\nAs her gaze fell upon the figure of the man a little cry of terror rose\nto her lips.  It was Rokoff.\n\nHe was running toward her now and shouting to her to wait or he would\nshoot--though as he was entirely unarmed it was difficult to discover just\nhow he intended making good his threat.\n\nJane Clayton knew nothing of the various misfortunes that had befallen\nthe Russian since she had escaped from his tent, so she believed that\nhis followers must be close at hand.\n\nHowever, she had no intention of falling again into the man's clutches.\nShe would rather die at once than that that should happen to her.\nAnother minute and the boat would be free.\n\nOnce in the current of the river she would be beyond Rokoff's power to\nstop her, for there was no other boat upon the shore, and no man, and\ncertainly not the cowardly Rokoff, would dare to attempt to swim the\ncrocodile-infested water in an effort to overtake her.\n\nRokoff, on his part, was bent more upon escape than aught else.   He\nwould gladly have forgone any designs he might have had upon Jane\nClayton would she but permit him to share this means of escape that she\nhad discovered.  He would promise anything if she would let him come\naboard the dugout, but he did not think that it was necessary to do so.\n\nHe saw that he could easily reach the bow of the boat before it cleared\nthe shore, and then it would not be necessary to make promises of any\nsort.  Not that Rokoff would have felt the slightest compunction in\nignoring any promises he might have made the girl, but he disliked the\nidea of having to sue for favour with one who had so recently assaulted\nand escaped him.\n\nAlready he was gloating over the days and nights of revenge that would\nbe his while the heavy dugout drifted its slow way to the ocean.\n\nJane Clayton, working furiously to shove the boat beyond his reach,\nsuddenly realized that she was to be successful, for with a little\nlurch the dugout swung quickly into the current, just as the Russian\nreached out to place his hand upon its bow.\n\nHis fingers did not miss their goal by a half-dozen inches.   The girl\nalmost collapsed with the reaction from the terrific mental, physical,\nand nervous strain under which she had been labouring for the past few\nminutes.  But, thank Heaven, at last she was safe!\n\nEven as she breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving, she saw a sudden\nexpression of triumph lighten the features of the cursing Russian, and\nat the same instant he dropped suddenly to the ground, grasping firmly\nupon something which wriggled through the mud toward the water.\n\nJane Clayton crouched, wide-eyed and horror-stricken, in the bottom of\nthe boat as she realized that at the last instant success had been\nturned to failure, and that she was indeed again in the power of the\nmalignant Rokoff.\n\nFor the thing that the man had seen and grasped was the end of the\ntrailing rope with which the dugout had been moored to the tree.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\nDown the Ugambi\n\n\nHalfway between the Ugambi and the village of the Waganwazam, Tarzan\ncame upon the pack moving slowly along his old spoor.   Mugambi could\nscarce believe that the trail of the Russian and the mate of his savage\nmaster had passed so close to that of the pack.\n\nIt seemed incredible that two human beings should have come so close to\nthem without having been detected by some of the marvellously keen and\nalert beasts; but Tarzan pointed out the spoor of the two he trailed,\nand at certain points the black could see that the man and the woman\nmust have been in hiding as the pack passed them, watching every move\nof the ferocious creatures.\n\nIt had been apparent to Tarzan from the first that Jane and Rokoff were\nnot travelling together.  The spoor showed distinctly that the young\nwoman had been a considerable distance ahead of the Russian at first,\nthough the farther the ape-man continued along the trail the more\nobvious it became that the man was rapidly overhauling his quarry.\n\nAt first there had been the spoor of wild beasts over the footprints of\nJane Clayton, while upon the top of all Rokoff's spoor showed that he\nhad passed over the trail after the animals had left their records upon\nthe ground.  But later there were fewer and fewer animal imprints\noccurring between those of Jane's and the Russian's feet, until as he\napproached the river the ape-man became aware that Rokoff could not\nhave been more than a few hundred yards behind the girl.\n\nHe felt they must be close ahead of him now, and, with a little thrill\nof expectation, he leaped rapidly forward ahead of the pack.  Swinging\nswiftly through the trees, he came out upon the river-bank at the very\npoint at which Rokoff had overhauled Jane as she endeavoured to launch\nthe cumbersome dugout.\n\nIn the mud along the bank the ape-man saw the footprints of the two he\nsought, but there was neither boat nor people there when he arrived,\nnor, at first glance, any sign of their whereabouts.\n\nIt was plain that they had shoved off a native canoe and embarked upon\nthe bosom of the stream, and as the ape-man's eye ran swiftly down the\ncourse of the river beneath the shadows of the overarching trees he saw\nin the distance, just as it rounded a bend that shut it off from his\nview, a drifting dugout in the stern of which was the figure of a man.\n\nJust as the pack came in sight of the river they saw their agile leader\nracing down the river's bank, leaping from hummock to hummock of the\nswampy ground that spread between them and a little promontory which\nrose just where the river curved inward from their sight.\n\nTo follow him it was necessary for the heavy, cumbersome apes to make a\nwide detour, and Sheeta, too, who hated water.   Mugambi followed after\nthem as rapidly as he could in the wake of the great white master.\n\nA half-hour of rapid travelling across the swampy neck of land and over\nthe rising promontory brought Tarzan, by a short cut, to the inward\nbend of the winding river, and there before him upon the bosom of the\nstream he saw the dugout, and in its stern Nikolas Rokoff.\n\nJane was not with the Russian.\n\nAt sight of his enemy the broad scar upon the ape-man's brow burned\nscarlet, and there rose to his lips the hideous, bestial challenge of\nthe bull-ape.\n\nRokoff shuddered as the weird and terrible alarm fell upon his ears.\nCowering in the bottom of the boat, his teeth chattering in terror, he\nwatched the man he feared above all other creatures upon the face of\nthe earth as he ran quickly to the edge of the water.\n\nEven though the Russian knew that he was safe from his enemy, the very\nsight of him threw him into a frenzy of trembling cowardice, which\nbecame frantic hysteria as he saw the white giant dive fearlessly into\nthe forbidding waters of the tropical river.\n\nWith steady, powerful strokes the ape-man forged out into the stream\ntoward the drifting dugout.  Now Rokoff seized one of the paddles lying\nin the bottom of the craft, and, with terrorwide eyes still glued upon\nthe living death that pursued him, struck out madly in an effort to\naugment the speed of the unwieldy canoe.\n\nAnd from the opposite bank a sinister ripple, unseen by either man,\nmoved steadily toward the half-naked swimmer.\n\nTarzan had reached the stern of the craft at last.  One hand\nupstretched grasped the gunwale.  Rokoff sat frozen with fear, unable\nto move a hand or foot, his eyes riveted upon the face of his Nemesis.\n\nThen a sudden commotion in the water behind the swimmer caught his\nattention.  He saw the ripple, and he knew what caused it.\n\nAt the same instant Tarzan felt mighty jaws close upon his right leg.\nHe tried to struggle free and raise himself over the side of the boat.\nHis efforts would have succeeded had not this unexpected interruption\ngalvanized the malign brain of the Russian into instant action with its\nsudden promise of deliverance and revenge.\n\nLike a venomous snake the man leaped toward the stern of the boat, and\nwith a single swift blow struck Tarzan across the head with the heavy\npaddle.  The ape-man's fingers slipped from their hold upon the gunwale.\n\nThere was a short struggle at the surface, and then a swirl of waters,\na little eddy, and a burst of bubbles soon smoothed out by the flowing\ncurrent marked for the instant the spot where Tarzan of the Apes, Lord\nof the Jungle, disappeared from the sight of men beneath the gloomy\nwaters of the dark and forbidding Ugambi.\n\nWeak from terror, Rokoff sank shuddering into the bottom of the dugout.\nFor a moment he could not realize the good fortune that had befallen\nhim--all that he could see was the figure of a silent, struggling white\nman disappearing beneath the surface of the river to unthinkable death\nin the slimy mud of the bottom.\n\nSlowly all that it meant to him filtered into the mind of the Russian,\nand then a cruel smile of relief and triumph touched his lips; but it\nwas short-lived, for just as he was congratulating himself that he was\nnow comparatively safe to proceed upon his way to the coast unmolested,\na mighty pandemonium rose from the river-bank close by.\n\nAs his eyes sought the authors of the frightful sound he saw standing\nupon the shore, glaring at him with hate-filled eyes, a devil-faced\npanther surrounded by the hideous apes of Akut, and in the forefront of\nthem a giant black warrior who shook his fist at him, threatening him\nwith terrible death.\n\nThe nightmare of that flight down the Ugambi with the hideous horde\nracing after him by day and by night, now abreast of him, now lost in\nthe mazes of the jungle far behind for hours and once for a whole day,\nonly to reappear again upon his trail grim, relentless, and terrible,\nreduced the Russian from a strong and robust man to an emaciated,\nwhite-haired, fear-gibbering thing before ever the bay and the ocean\nbroke upon his hopeless vision.\n\nPast populous villages he had fled.  Time and again warriors had put\nout in their canoes to intercept him, but each time the hideous horde\nhad swept into view to send the terrified natives shrieking back to the\nshore to lose themselves in the jungle.\n\nNowhere in his flight had he seen aught of Jane Clayton.   Not once had\nhis eyes rested upon her since that moment at the river's brim his hand\nhad closed upon the rope attached to the bow of her dugout and he had\nbelieved her safely in his power again, only to be thwarted an instant\nlater as the girl snatched up a heavy express rifle from the bottom of\nthe craft and levelled it full at his breast.\n\nQuickly he had dropped the rope then and seen her float away beyond his\nreach, but a moment later he had been racing up-stream toward a little\ntributary in the mouth of which was hidden the canoe in which he and\nhis party had come thus far upon their journey in pursuit of the girl\nand Anderssen.\n\nWhat had become of her?\n\nThere seemed little doubt in the Russian's mind, however, but that she\nhad been captured by warriors from one of the several villages she\nwould have been compelled to pass on her way down to the sea.  Well, he\nwas at least rid of most of his human enemies.\n\nBut at that he would gladly have had them all back in the land of the\nliving could he thus have been freed from the menace of the frightful\ncreatures who pursued him with awful relentlessness, screaming and\ngrowling at him every time they came within sight of him.  The one that\nfilled him with the greatest terror was the panther--the flaming-eyed,\ndevil-faced panther whose grinning jaws gaped wide at him by day, and\nwhose fiery orbs gleamed wickedly out across the water from the\nCimmerian blackness of the jungle nights.\n\nThe sight of the mouth of the Ugambi filled Rokoff with renewed hope,\nfor there, upon the yellow waters of the bay, floated the Kincaid at\nanchor.  He had sent the little steamer away to coal while he had gone\nup the river, leaving Paulvitch in charge of her, and he could have\ncried aloud in his relief as he saw that she had returned in time to\nsave him.\n\nFrantically he alternately paddled furiously toward her and rose to his\nfeet waving his paddle and crying aloud in an attempt to attract the\nattention of those on board.  But loud as he screamed his cries\nawakened no answering challenge from the deck of the silent craft.\n\nUpon the shore behind him a hurried backward glance revealed the\npresence of the snarling pack.  Even now, he thought, these manlike\ndevils might yet find a way to reach him even upon the deck of the\nsteamer unless there were those there to repel them with firearms.\n\nWhat could have happened to those he had left upon the Kincaid?  Where\nwas Paulvitch?  Could it be that the vessel was deserted, and that,\nafter all, he was doomed to be overtaken by the terrible fate that he\nhad been flying from through all these hideous days and nights?  He\nshivered as might one upon whose brow death has already laid his clammy\nfinger.\n\nYet he did not cease to paddle frantically toward the steamer, and at\nlast, after what seemed an eternity, the bow of the dugout bumped\nagainst the timbers of the Kincaid.  Over the ship's side hung a\nmonkey-ladder, but as the Russian grasped it to ascend to the deck he\nheard a warning challenge from above, and, looking up, gazed into the\ncold, relentless muzzle of a rifle.\n\nAfter Jane Clayton, with rifle levelled at the breast of Rokoff, had\nsucceeded in holding him off until the dugout in which she had taken\nrefuge had drifted out upon the bosom of the Ugambi beyond the man's\nreach, she had lost no time in paddling to the swiftest sweep of the\nchannel, nor did she for long days and weary nights cease to hold her\ncraft to the most rapidly moving part of the river, except when during\nthe hottest hours of the day she had been wont to drift as the current\nwould take her, lying prone in the bottom of the canoe, her face\nsheltered from the sun with a great palm leaf.\n\nThus only did she gain rest upon the voyage; at other times she\ncontinually sought to augment the movement of the craft by wielding the\nheavy paddle.\n\nRokoff, on the other hand, had used little or no intelligence in his\nflight along the Ugambi, so that more often than not his craft had\ndrifted in the slow-going eddies, for he habitually hugged the bank\nfarthest from that along which the hideous horde pursued and menaced\nhim.\n\nThus it was that, though he had put out upon the river but a short time\nsubsequent to the girl, yet she had reached the bay fully two hours\nahead of him.  When she had first seen the anchored ship upon the quiet\nwater, Jane Clayton's heart had beat fast with hope and thanksgiving,\nbut as she drew closer to the craft and saw that it was the Kincaid,\nher pleasure gave place to the gravest misgivings.\n\nIt was too late, however, to turn back, for the current that carried\nher toward the ship was much too strong for her muscles.  She could not\nhave forced the heavy dugout up-stream against it, and all that was\nleft her was to attempt either to make the shore without being seen by\nthose upon the deck of the Kincaid, or to throw herself upon their\nmercy--otherwise she must be swept out to sea.\n\nShe knew that the shore held little hope of life for her, as she had no\nknowledge of the location of the friendly Mosula village to which\nAnderssen had taken her through the darkness of the night of their\nescape from the Kincaid.\n\nWith Rokoff away from the steamer it might be possible that by offering\nthose in charge a large reward they could be induced to carry her to\nthe nearest civilized port.  It was worth risking--if she could make\nthe steamer at all.\n\nThe current was bearing her swiftly down the river, and she found that\nonly by dint of the utmost exertion could she direct the awkward craft\ntoward the vicinity of the Kincaid.   Having reached the decision to\nboard the steamer, she now looked to it for aid, but to her surprise\nthe decks appeared to be empty and she saw no sign of life aboard the\nship.\n\nThe dugout was drawing closer and closer to the bow of the vessel, and\nyet no hail came over the side from any lookout aboard.  In a moment\nmore, Jane realized, she would be swept beyond the steamer, and then,\nunless they lowered a boat to rescue her, she would be carried far out\nto sea by the current and the swift ebb tide that was running.\n\nThe young woman called loudly for assistance, but there was no reply\nother than the shrill scream of some savage beast upon the\njungle-shrouded shore.  Frantically Jane wielded the paddle in an\neffort to carry her craft close alongside the steamer.\n\nFor a moment it seemed that she should miss her goal by but a few feet,\nbut at the last moment the canoe swung close beneath the steamer's bow\nand Jane barely managed to grasp the anchor chain.\n\nHeroically she clung to the heavy iron links, almost dragged from the\ncanoe by the strain of the current upon her craft.   Beyond her she saw\na monkey-ladder dangling over the steamer's side.  To release her hold\nupon the chain and chance clambering to the ladder as her canoe was\nswept beneath it seemed beyond the pale of possibility, yet to remain\nclinging to the anchor chain appeared equally as futile.\n\nFinally her glance chanced to fall upon the rope in the bow of the\ndugout, and, making one end of this fast to the chain, she succeeded in\ndrifting the canoe slowly down until it lay directly beneath the\nladder.  A moment later, her rifle slung about her shoulders, she had\nclambered safely to the deserted deck.\n\nHer first task was to explore the ship, and this she did, her rifle\nready for instant use should she meet with any human menace aboard the\nKincaid.  She was not long in discovering the cause of the apparently\ndeserted condition of the steamer, for in the forecastle she found the\nsailors, who had evidently been left to guard the ship, deep in drunken\nslumber.\n\nWith a shudder of disgust she clambered above, and to the best of her\nability closed and made fast the hatch above the heads of the sleeping\nguard.  Next she sought the galley and food, and, having appeased her\nhunger, she took her place on deck, determined that none should board\nthe Kincaid without first having agreed to her demands.\n\nFor an hour or so nothing appeared upon the surface of the river to\ncause her alarm, but then, about a bend up-stream, she saw a canoe\nappear in which sat a single figure.  It had not proceeded far in her\ndirection before she recognized the occupant as Rokoff, and when the\nfellow attempted to board he found a rifle staring him in the face.\n\nWhen the Russian discovered who it was that repelled his advance he\nbecame furious, cursing and threatening in a most horrible manner; but,\nfinding that these tactics failed to frighten or move the girl, he at\nlast fell to pleading and promising.\n\nJane had but a single reply for his every proposition, and that was\nthat nothing would ever persuade her to permit Rokoff upon the same\nvessel with her.  That she would put her threats into action and shoot\nhim should he persist in his endeavour to board the ship he was\nconvinced.\n\nSo, as there was no other alternative, the great coward dropped back\ninto his dugout and, at imminent risk of being swept to sea, finally\nsucceeded in making the shore far down the bay and upon the opposite\nside from that on which the horde of beasts stood snarling and roaring.\n\nJane Clayton knew that the fellow could not alone and unaided bring his\nheavy craft back up-stream to the Kincaid, and so she had no further\nfear of an attack by him.   The hideous crew upon the shore she thought\nshe recognized as the same that had passed her in the jungle far up the\nUgambi several days before, for it seemed quite beyond reason that\nthere should be more than one such a strangely assorted pack; but what\nhad brought them down-stream to the mouth of the river she could not\nimagine.\n\nToward the day's close the girl was suddenly alarmed by the shouting of\nthe Russian from the opposite bank of the stream, and a moment later,\nfollowing the direction of his gaze, she was terrified to see a ship's\nboat approaching from up-stream, in which, she felt assured, there\ncould be only members of the Kincaid's missing crew--only heartless\nruffians and enemies.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\nIn the Darkness of the Night\n\n\nWhen Tarzan of the Apes realized that he was in the grip of the great\njaws of a crocodile he did not, as an ordinary man might have done,\ngive up all hope and resign himself to his fate.\n\nInstead, he filled his lungs with air before the huge reptile dragged\nhim beneath the surface, and then, with all the might of his great\nmuscles, fought bitterly for freedom.  But out of his native element\nthe ape-man was too greatly handicapped to do more than excite the\nmonster to greater speed as it dragged its prey swiftly through the\nwater.\n\nTarzan's lungs were bursting for a breath of pure fresh air.   He knew\nthat he could survive but a moment more, and in the last paroxysm of\nhis suffering he did what he could to avenge his own death.\n\nHis body trailed out beside the slimy carcass of his captor, and into\nthe tough armour the ape-man attempted to plunge his stone knife as he\nwas borne to the creature's horrid den.\n\nHis efforts but served to accelerate the speed of the crocodile, and\njust as the ape-man realized that he had reached the limit of his\nendurance he felt his body dragged to a muddy bed and his nostrils rise\nabove the water's surface.  All about him was the blackness of the\npit--the silence of the grave.\n\nFor a moment Tarzan of the Apes lay gasping for breath upon the slimy,\nevil-smelling bed to which the animal had borne him.  Close at his side\nhe could feel the cold, hard plates of the creature's coat rising and\nfalling as though with spasmodic efforts to breathe.\n\nFor several minutes the two lay thus, and then a sudden convulsion of\nthe giant carcass at the man's side, a tremor, and a stiffening brought\nTarzan to his knees beside the crocodile.   To his utter amazement he\nfound that the beast was dead.   The slim knife had found a vulnerable\nspot in the scaly armour.\n\nStaggering to his feet, the ape-man groped about the reeking, oozy den.\nHe found that he was imprisoned in a subterranean chamber amply large\nenough to have accommodated a dozen or more of the huge animals such as\nthe one that had dragged him thither.\n\nHe realized that he was in the creature's hidden nest far under the\nbank of the stream, and that doubtless the only means of ingress or\negress lay through the submerged opening through which the crocodile\nhad brought him.\n\nHis first thought, of course, was of escape, but that he could make his\nway to the surface of the river beyond and then to the shore seemed\nhighly improbable.  There might be turns and windings in the neck of\nthe passage, or, most to be feared, he might meet another of the slimy\ninhabitants of the retreat upon his journey outward.\n\nEven should he reach the river in safety, there was still the danger of\nhis being again attacked before he could effect a safe landing.  Still\nthere was no alternative, and, filling his lungs with the close and\nreeking air of the chamber, Tarzan of the Apes dived into the dark and\nwatery hole which he could not see but had felt out and found with his\nfeet and legs.\n\nThe leg which had been held within the jaws of the crocodile was badly\nlacerated, but the bone had not been broken, nor were the muscles or\ntendons sufficiently injured to render it useless.  It gave him\nexcruciating pain, that was all.\n\nBut Tarzan of the Apes was accustomed to pain, and gave it no further\nthought when he found that the use of his legs was not greatly impaired\nby the sharp teeth of the monster.\n\nRapidly he crawled and swam through the passage which inclined downward\nand finally upward to open at last into the river bottom but a few feet\nfrom the shore line.  As the ape-man reached the surface he saw the\nheads of two great crocodiles but a short distance from him.  They were\nmaking rapidly in his direction, and with a superhuman effort the man\nstruck out for the overhanging branches of a near-by tree.\n\nNor was he a moment too soon, for scarcely had he drawn himself to the\nsafety of the limb than two gaping mouths snapped venomously below him.\nFor a few minutes Tarzan rested in the tree that had proved the means\nof his salvation.   His eyes scanned the river as far down-stream as\nthe tortuous channel would permit, but there was no sign of the Russian\nor his dugout.\n\nWhen he had rested and bound up his wounded leg he started on in\npursuit of the drifting canoe.  He found himself upon the opposite of\nthe river to that at which he had entered the stream, but as his quarry\nwas upon the bosom of the water it made little difference to the\nape-man upon which side he took up the pursuit.\n\nTo his intense chagrin he soon found that his leg was more badly\ninjured than he had thought, and that its condition seriously impeded\nhis progress.  It was only with the greatest difficulty that he could\nproceed faster than a walk upon the ground, and in the trees he\ndiscovered that it not only impeded his progress, but rendered\ntravelling distinctly dangerous.\n\nFrom the old negress, Tambudza, Tarzan had gathered a suggestion that\nnow filled his mind with doubts and misgivings.  When the old woman had\ntold him of the child's death she had also added that the white woman,\nthough grief-stricken, had confided to her that the baby was not hers.\n\nTarzan could see no reason for believing that Jane could have found it\nadvisable to deny her identity or that of the child; the only\nexplanation that he could put upon the matter was that, after all, the\nwhite woman who had accompanied his son and the Swede into the jungle\nfastness of the interior had not been Jane at all.\n\nThe more he gave thought to the problem, the more firmly convinced he\nbecame that his son was dead and his wife still safe in London, and in\nignorance of the terrible fate that had overtaken her first-born.\n\nAfter all, then, his interpretation of Rokoff's sinister taunt had been\nerroneous, and he had been bearing the burden of a double apprehension\nneedlessly--at least so thought the ape-man.   From this belief he\ngarnered some slight surcease from the numbing grief that the death of\nhis little son had thrust upon him.\n\nAnd such a death!  Even the savage beast that was the real Tarzan,\ninured to the sufferings and horrors of the grim jungle, shuddered as\nhe contemplated the hideous fate that had overtaken the innocent child.\n\nAs he made his way painfully towards the coast, he let his mind dwell\nso constantly upon the frightful crimes which the Russian had\nperpetrated against his loved ones that the great scar upon his\nforehead stood out almost continuously in the vivid scarlet that marked\nthe man's most relentless and bestial moods of rage.  At times he\nstartled even himself and sent the lesser creatures of the wild jungle\nscampering to their hiding places as involuntary roars and growls\nrumbled from his throat.\n\nCould he but lay his hand upon the Russian!\n\nTwice upon the way to the coast bellicose natives ran threateningly\nfrom their villages to bar his further progress, but when the awful cry\nof the bull-ape thundered upon their affrighted ears, and the great\nwhite giant charged bellowing upon them, they had turned and fled into\nthe bush, nor ventured thence until he had safely passed.\n\nThough his progress seemed tantalizingly slow to the ape-man whose idea\nof speed had been gained by such standards as the lesser apes attain,\nhe made, as a matter of fact, almost as rapid progress as the drifting\ncanoe that bore Rokoff on ahead of him, so that he came to the bay and\nwithin sight of the ocean just after darkness had fallen upon the same\nday that Jane Clayton and the Russian ended their flights from the\ninterior.\n\nThe darkness lowered so heavily upon the black river and the encircling\njungle that Tarzan, even with eyes accustomed to much use after dark,\ncould make out nothing a few yards from him.  His idea was to search\nthe shore that night for signs of the Russian and the woman who he was\ncertain must have preceded Rokoff down the Ugambi.  That the Kincaid or\nother ship lay at anchor but a hundred yards from him he did not dream,\nfor no light showed on board the steamer.\n\nEven as he commenced his search his attention was suddenly attracted by\na noise that he had not at first perceived--the stealthy dip of paddles\nin the water some distance from the shore, and about opposite the point\nat which he stood.   Motionless as a statue he stood listening to the\nfaint sound.\n\nPresently it ceased, to be followed by a shuffling noise that the\nape-man's trained ears could interpret as resulting from but a single\ncause--the scraping of leather-shod feet upon the rounds of a ship's\nmonkey-ladder.  And yet, as far as he could see, there was no ship\nthere--nor might there be one within a thousand miles.\n\nAs he stood thus, peering out into the darkness of the cloud-enshrouded\nnight, there came to him from across the water, like a slap in the\nface, so sudden and unexpected was it, the sharp staccato of an\nexchange of shots and then the scream of a woman.\n\nWounded though he was, and with the memory of his recent horrible\nexperience still strong upon him, Tarzan of the Apes did not hesitate\nas the notes of that frightened cry rose shrill and piercing upon the\nstill night air.  With a bound he cleared the intervening bush--there\nwas a splash as the water closed about him--and then, with powerful\nstrokes, he swam out into the impenetrable night with no guide save the\nmemory of an illusive cry, and for company the hideous denizens of an\nequatorial river.\n\n\nThe boat that had attracted Jane's attention as she stood guard upon\nthe deck of the Kincaid had been perceived by Rokoff upon one bank and\nMugambi and the horde upon the other.   The cries of the Russian had\nbrought the dugout first to him, and then, after a conference, it had\nbeen turned toward the Kincaid, but before ever it covered half the\ndistance between the shore and the steamer a rifle had spoken from the\nlatter's deck and one of the sailors in the bow of the canoe had\ncrumpled and fallen into the water.\n\nAfter that they went more slowly, and presently, when Jane's rifle had\nfound another member of the party, the canoe withdrew to the shore,\nwhere it lay as long as daylight lasted.\n\nThe savage, snarling pack upon the opposite shore had been directed in\ntheir pursuit by the black warrior, Mugambi, chief of the Wagambi.\nOnly he knew which might be foe and which friend of their lost master.\n\nCould they have reached either the canoe or the Kincaid they would have\nmade short work of any whom they found there, but the gulf of black\nwater intervening shut them off from farther advance as effectually as\nthough it had been the broad ocean that separated them from their prey.\n\nMugambi knew something of the occurrences which had led up to the\nlanding of Tarzan upon Jungle Island and the pursuit of the whites up\nthe Ugambi.  He knew that his savage master sought his wife and child\nwho had been stolen by the wicked white man whom they had followed far\ninto the interior and now back to the sea.\n\nHe believed also that this same man had killed the great white giant\nwhom he had come to respect and love as he had never loved the greatest\nchiefs of his own people.  And so in the wild breast of Mugambi burned\nan iron resolve to win to the side of the wicked one and wreak\nvengeance upon him for the murder of the ape-man.\n\nBut when he saw the canoe come down the river and take in Rokoff, when\nhe saw it make for the Kincaid, he realized that only by possessing\nhimself of a canoe could he hope to transport the beasts of the pack\nwithin striking distance of the enemy.\n\nSo it happened that even before Jane Clayton fired the first shot into\nRokoff's canoe the beasts of Tarzan had disappeared into the jungle.\n\nAfter the Russian and his party, which consisted of Paulvitch and the\nseveral men he had left upon the Kincaid to attend to the matter of\ncoaling, had retreated before her fire, Jane realized that it would be\nbut a temporary respite from their attentions which she had gained, and\nwith the conviction came a determination to make a bold and final\nstroke for freedom from the menacing threat of Rokoff's evil purpose.\n\nWith this idea in view she opened negotiations with the two sailors she\nhad imprisoned in the forecastle, and having forced their consent to\nher plans, upon pain of death should they attempt disloyalty, she\nreleased them just as darkness closed about the ship.\n\nWith ready revolver to compel obedience, she let them up one by one,\nsearching them carefully for concealed weapons as they stood with hands\nelevated above their heads.  Once satisfied that they were unarmed, she\nset them to work cutting the cable which held the Kincaid to her\nanchorage, for her bold plan was nothing less than to set the steamer\nadrift and float with her out into the open sea, there to trust to the\nmercy of the elements, which she was confident would be no more\nmerciless than Nikolas Rokoff should he again capture her.\n\nThere was, too, the chance that the Kincaid might be sighted by some\npassing ship, and as she was well stocked with provisions and\nwater--the men had assured her of this fact--and as the season of storm\nwas well over, she had every reason to hope for the eventual success of\nher plan.\n\nThe night was deeply overcast, heavy clouds riding low above the jungle\nand the water--only to the west, where the broad ocean spread beyond\nthe river's mouth, was there a suggestion of lessening gloom.\n\nIt was a perfect night for the purposes of the work in hand.\n\nHer enemies could not see the activity aboard the ship nor mark her\ncourse as the swift current bore her outward into the ocean.  Before\ndaylight broke the ebb-tide would have carried the Kincaid well into\nthe Benguela current which flows northward along the coast of Africa,\nand, as a south wind was prevailing, Jane hoped to be out of sight of\nthe mouth of the Ugambi before Rokoff could become aware of the\ndeparture of the steamer.\n\nStanding over the labouring seamen, the young woman breathed a sigh of\nrelief as the last strand of the cable parted and she knew that the\nvessel was on its way out of the maw of the savage Ugambi.\n\nWith her two prisoners still beneath the coercing influence of her\nrifle, she ordered them upon deck with the intention of again\nimprisoning them in the forecastle; but at length she permitted herself\nto be influenced by their promises of loyalty and the arguments which\nthey put forth that they could be of service to her, and permitted them\nto remain above.\n\nFor a few minutes the Kincaid drifted rapidly with the current, and\nthen, with a grinding jar, she stopped in midstream.   The ship had run\nupon a low-lying bar that splits the channel about a quarter of a mile\nfrom the sea.\n\nFor a moment she hung there, and then, swinging round until her bow\npointed toward the shore, she broke adrift once more.\n\nAt the same instant, just as Jane Clayton was congratulating herself\nthat the ship was once more free, there fell upon her ears from a point\nup the river about where the Kincaid had been anchored the rattle of\nmusketry and a woman's scream--shrill, piercing, fear-laden.\n\nThe sailors heard the shots with certain conviction that they announced\nthe coming of their employer, and as they had no relish for the plan\nthat would consign them to the deck of a drifting derelict, they\nwhispered together a hurried plan to overcome the young woman and hail\nRokoff and their companions to their rescue.\n\nIt seemed that fate would play into their hands, for with the reports\nof the guns Jane Clayton's attention had been distracted from her\nunwilling assistants, and instead of keeping one eye upon them as she\nhad intended doing, she ran to the bow of the Kincaid to peer through\nthe darkness toward the source of the disturbance upon the river's\nbosom.\n\nSeeing that she was off her guard, the two sailors crept stealthily\nupon her from behind.\n\nThe scraping upon the deck of the shoes of one of them startled the\ngirl to a sudden appreciation of her danger, but the warning had come\ntoo late.\n\nAs she turned, both men leaped upon her and bore her to the deck, and\nas she went down beneath them she saw, outlined against the lesser\ngloom of the ocean, the figure of another man clamber over the side of\nthe Kincaid.\n\nAfter all her pains her heroic struggle for freedom had failed.  With a\nstifled sob she gave up the unequal battle.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\nOn the Deck of the \"Kincaid\"\n\n\nWhen Mugambi had turned back into the jungle with the pack he had a\ndefinite purpose in view.  It was to obtain a dugout wherewith to\ntransport the beasts of Tarzan to the side of the Kincaid.  Nor was he\nlong in coming upon the object which he sought.\n\nJust at dusk he found a canoe moored to the bank of a small tributary\nof the Ugambi at a point where he had felt certain that he should find\none.\n\nWithout loss of time he piled his hideous fellows into the craft and\nshoved out into the stream.  So quickly had they taken possession of\nthe canoe that the warrior had not noticed that it was already\noccupied.  The huddled figure sleeping in the bottom had entirely\nescaped his observation in the darkness of the night that had now\nfallen.\n\nBut no sooner were they afloat than a savage growling from one of the\napes directly ahead of him in the dugout attracted his attention to a\nshivering and cowering figure that trembled between him and the great\nanthropoid.  To Mugambi's astonishment he saw that it was a native\nwoman.  With difficulty he kept the ape from her throat, and after a\ntime succeeded in quelling her fears.\n\nIt seemed that she had been fleeing from marriage with an old man she\nloathed and had taken refuge for the night in the canoe she had found\nupon the river's edge.\n\nMugambi did not wish her presence, but there she was, and rather than\nlose time by returning her to the shore the black permitted her to\nremain on board the canoe.\n\nAs quickly as his awkward companions could paddle the dugout\ndown-stream toward the Ugambi and the Kincaid they moved through the\ndarkness.  It was with difficulty that Mugambi could make out the\nshadowy form of the steamer, but as he had it between himself and the\nocean it was much more apparent than to one upon either shore of the\nriver.\n\nAs he approached it he was amazed to note that it seemed to be receding\nfrom him, and finally he was convinced that the vessel was moving\ndown-stream.  Just as he was about to urge his creatures to renewed\nefforts to overtake the steamer the outline of another canoe burst\nsuddenly into view not three yards from the bow of his own craft.\n\nAt the same instant the occupants of the stranger discovered the\nproximity of Mugambi's horde, but they did not at first recognize the\nnature of the fearful crew.  A man in the bow of the oncoming boat\nchallenged them just as the two dugouts were about to touch.\n\nFor answer came the menacing growl of a panther, and the fellow found\nhimself gazing into the flaming eyes of Sheeta, who had raised himself\nwith his forepaws upon the bow of the boat, ready to leap in upon the\noccupants of the other craft.\n\nInstantly Rokoff realized the peril that confronted him and his\nfellows.  He gave a quick command to fire upon the occupants of the\nother canoe, and it was this volley and the scream of the terrified\nnative woman in the canoe with Mugambi that both Tarzan and Jane had\nheard.\n\nBefore the slower and less skilled paddlers in Mugambi's canoe could\npress their advantage and effect a boarding of the enemy the latter had\nturned swiftly down-stream and were paddling for their lives in the\ndirection of the Kincaid, which was now visible to them.\n\nThe vessel after striking upon the bar had swung loose again into a\nslow-moving eddy, which returns up-stream close to the southern shore\nof the Ugambi only to circle out once more and join the downward flow a\nhundred yards or so farther up.  Thus the Kincaid was returning Jane\nClayton directly into the hands of her enemies.\n\nIt so happened that as Tarzan sprang into the river the vessel was not\nvisible to him, and as he swam out into the night he had no idea that a\nship drifted so close at hand.   He was guided by the sounds which he\ncould hear coming from the two canoes.\n\nAs he swam he had vivid recollections of the last occasion upon which\nhe had swum in the waters of the Ugambi, and with them a sudden shudder\nshook the frame of the giant.\n\nBut, though he twice felt something brush his legs from the slimy\ndepths below him, nothing seized him, and of a sudden he quite forgot\nabout crocodiles in the astonishment of seeing a dark mass loom\nsuddenly before him where he had still expected to find the open river.\n\nSo close was it that a few strokes brought him up to the thing, when to\nhis amazement his outstretched hand came in contact with a ship's side.\n\nAs the agile ape-man clambered over the vessel's rail there came to his\nsensitive ears the sound of a struggle at the opposite side of the deck.\n\nNoiselessly he sped across the intervening space.\n\nThe moon had risen now, and, though the sky was still banked with\nclouds, a lesser darkness enveloped the scene than that which had\nblotted out all sight earlier in the night.  His keen eyes, therefore,\nsaw the figures of two men grappling with a woman.\n\nThat it was the woman who had accompanied Anderssen toward the interior\nhe did not know, though he suspected as much, as he was now quite\ncertain that this was the deck of the Kincaid upon which chance had led\nhim.\n\nBut he wasted little time in idle speculation.  There was a woman in\ndanger of harm from two ruffians, which was enough excuse for the\nape-man to project his giant thews into the conflict without further\ninvestigation.\n\nThe first that either of the sailors knew that there was a new force at\nwork upon the ship was the falling of a mighty hand upon a shoulder of\neach.  As if they had been in the grip of a fly-wheel, they were jerked\nsuddenly from their prey.\n\n\"What means this?\" asked a low voice in their ears.\n\nThey were given no time to reply, however, for at the sound of that\nvoice the young woman had sprung to her feet and with a little cry of\njoy leaped toward their assailant.\n\n\"Tarzan!\" she cried.\n\nThe ape-man hurled the two sailors across the deck, where they rolled,\nstunned and terrified, into the scuppers upon the opposite side, and\nwith an exclamation of incredulity gathered the girl into his arms.\n\nBrief, however, were the moments for their greeting.\n\nScarcely had they recognized one another than the clouds above them\nparted to show the figures of a half-dozen men clambering over the side\nof the Kincaid to the steamer's deck.\n\nForemost among them was the Russian.  As the brilliant rays of the\nequatorial moon lighted the deck, and he realized that the man before\nhim was Lord Greystoke, he screamed hysterical commands to his\nfollowers to fire upon the two.\n\nTarzan pushed Jane behind the cabin near which they had been standing,\nand with a quick bound started for Rokoff.   The men behind the\nRussian, at least two of them, raised their rifles and fired at the\ncharging ape-man; but those behind them were otherwise engaged--for up\nthe monkey-ladder in their rear was thronging a hideous horde.\n\nFirst came five snarling apes, huge, manlike beasts, with bared fangs\nand slavering jaws; and after them a giant black warrior, his long\nspear gleaming in the moonlight.\n\nBehind him again scrambled another creature, and of all the horrid\nhorde it was this they most feared--Sheeta, the panther, with gleaming\njaws agape and fiery eyes blazing at them in the mightiness of his hate\nand of his blood lust.\n\nThe shots that had been fired at Tarzan missed him, and he would have\nbeen upon Rokoff in another instant had not the great coward dodged\nbackward between his two henchmen, and, screaming in hysterical terror,\nbolted forward toward the forecastle.\n\nFor the moment Tarzan's attention was distracted by the two men before\nhim, so that he could not at the time pursue the Russian.  About him\nthe apes and Mugambi were battling with the balance of the Russian's\nparty.\n\nBeneath the terrible ferocity of the beasts the men were soon\nscampering in all directions--those who still lived to scamper, for the\ngreat fangs of the apes of Akut and the tearing talons of Sheeta\nalready had found more than a single victim.\n\nFour, however, escaped and disappeared into the forecastle, where they\nhoped to barricade themselves against further assault.   Here they\nfound Rokoff, and, enraged at his desertion of them in their moment of\nperil, no less than at the uniformly brutal treatment it had been his\nwont to accord them, they gloated upon the opportunity now offered them\nto revenge themselves in part upon their hated employer.\n\nDespite his prayers and grovelling pleas, therefore, they hurled him\nbodily out upon the deck, delivering him to the mercy of the fearful\nthings from which they had themselves just escaped.\n\nTarzan saw the man emerge from the forecastle--saw and recognized his\nenemy; but another saw him even as soon.\n\nIt was Sheeta, and with grinning jaws the mighty beast slunk silently\ntoward the terror-stricken man.\n\nWhen Rokoff saw what it was that stalked him his shrieks for help\nfilled the air, as with trembling knees he stood, as one paralyzed,\nbefore the hideous death that was creeping upon him.\n\nTarzan took a step toward the Russian, his brain burning with a raging\nfire of vengeance.  At last he had the murderer of his son at his\nmercy.  His was the right to avenge.\n\nOnce Jane had stayed his hand that time that he sought to take the law\ninto his own power and mete to Rokoff the death that he had so long\nmerited; but this time none should stay him.\n\nHis fingers clenched and unclenched spasmodically as he approached the\ntrembling Russ, beastlike and ominous as a brute of prey.\n\nPresently he saw that Sheeta was about to forestall him, robbing him of\nthe fruits of his great hate.\n\nHe called sharply to the panther, and the words, as if they had broken\na hideous spell that had held the Russian, galvanized him into sudden\naction.  With a scream he turned and fled toward the bridge.\n\nAfter him pounced Sheeta the panther, unmindful of his master's warning\nvoice.\n\nTarzan was about to leap after the two when he felt a light touch upon\nhis arm.  Turning, he found Jane at his elbow.\n\n\"Do not leave me,\" she whispered.  \"I am afraid.\"\n\nTarzan glanced behind her.\n\nAll about were the hideous apes of Akut.  Some, even, were approaching\nthe young woman with bared fangs and menacing guttural warnings.\n\nThe ape-man warned them back.  He had forgotten for the moment that\nthese were but beasts, unable to differentiate his friends and his\nfoes.  Their savage natures were roused by their recent battle with the\nsailors, and now all flesh outside the pack was meat to them.\n\nTarzan turned again toward the Russian, chagrined that he should have\nto forgo the pleasure of personal revenge--unless the man should escape\nSheeta.  But as he looked he saw that there could be no hope of that.\nThe fellow had retreated to the end of the bridge, where he now stood\ntrembling and wide-eyed, facing the beast that moved slowly toward him.\n\nThe panther crawled with belly to the planking, uttering uncanny\nmouthings.  Rokoff stood as though petrified, his eyes protruding from\ntheir sockets, his mouth agape, and the cold sweat of terror clammy\nupon his brow.\n\nBelow him, upon the deck, he had seen the great anthropoids, and so had\nnot dared to seek escape in that direction.   In fact, even now one of\nthe brutes was leaping to seize the bridge-rail and draw himself up to\nthe Russian's side.\n\nBefore him was the panther, silent and crouched.\n\nRokoff could not move.  His knees trembled.  His voice broke in\ninarticulate shrieks.  With a last piercing wail he sank to his\nknees--and then Sheeta sprang.\n\nFull upon the man's breast the tawny body hurtled, tumbling the Russian\nto his back.\n\nAs the great fangs tore at the throat and chest, Jane Clayton turned\naway in horror; but not so Tarzan of the Apes.  A cold smile of\nsatisfaction touched his lips.  The scar upon his forehead that had\nburned scarlet faded to the normal hue of his tanned skin and\ndisappeared.\n\nRokoff fought furiously but futilely against the growling, rending fate\nthat had overtaken him.  For all his countless crimes he was punished\nin the brief moment of the hideous death that claimed him at the last.\n\nAfter his struggles ceased Tarzan approached, at Jane's suggestion, to\nwrest the body from the panther and give what remained of it decent\nhuman burial; but the great cat rose snarling above its kill,\nthreatening even the master it loved in its savage way, so that rather\nthan kill his friend of the jungle, Tarzan was forced to relinquish his\nintentions.\n\nAll that night Sheeta, the panther, crouched upon the grisly thing that\nhad been Nikolas Rokoff.  The bridge of the Kincaid was slippery with\nblood.  Beneath the brilliant tropic moon the great beast feasted\nuntil, when the sun rose the following morning, there remained of\nTarzan's great enemy only gnawed and broken bones.\n\n\nOf the Russian's party, all were accounted for except Paulvitch.  Four\nwere prisoners in the Kincaid's forecastle.  The rest were dead.\n\nWith these men Tarzan got up steam upon the vessel, and with the\nknowledge of the mate, who happened to be one of those surviving, he\nplanned to set out in quest of Jungle Island; but as the morning dawned\nthere came with it a heavy gale from the west which raised a sea into\nwhich the mate of the Kincaid dared not venture.  All that day the ship\nlay within the shelter of the mouth of the river; for, though night\nwitnessed a lessening of the wind, it was thought safer to wait for\ndaylight before attempting the navigation of the winding channel to the\nsea.\n\nUpon the deck of the steamer the pack wandered without let or hindrance\nby day, for they had soon learned through Tarzan and Mugambi that they\nmust harm no one upon the Kincaid; but at night they were confined\nbelow.\n\nTarzan's joy had been unbounded when he learned from his wife that the\nlittle child who had died in the village of M'ganwazam was not their\nson.  Who the baby could have been, or what had become of their own,\nthey could not imagine, and as both Rokoff and Paulvitch were gone,\nthere was no way of discovering.\n\nThere was, however, a certain sense of relief in the knowledge that\nthey might yet hope.  Until positive proof of the baby's death reached\nthem there was always that to buoy them up.\n\nIt seemed quite evident that their little Jack had not been brought\naboard the Kincaid.  Anderssen would have known of it had such been the\ncase, but he had assured Jane time and time again that the little one\nhe had brought to her cabin the night he aided her to escape was the\nonly one that had been aboard the Kincaid since she lay at Dover.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\nPaulvitch Plots Revenge\n\n\nAs Jane and Tarzan stood upon the vessel's deck recounting to one\nanother the details of the various adventures through which each had\npassed since they had parted in their London home, there glared at them\nfrom beneath scowling brows a hidden watcher upon the shore.\n\nThrough the man's brain passed plan after plan whereby he might thwart\nthe escape of the Englishman and his wife, for so long as the vital\nspark remained within the vindictive brain of Alexander Paulvitch none\nwho had aroused the enmity of the Russian might be entirely safe.\n\nPlan after plan he formed only to discard each either as impracticable,\nor unworthy the vengeance his wrongs demanded.   So warped by faulty\nreasoning was the criminal mind of Rokoff's lieutenant that he could\nnot grasp the real truth of that which lay between himself and the\nape-man and see that always the fault had been, not with the English\nlord, but with himself and his confederate.\n\nAnd at the rejection of each new scheme Paulvitch arrived always at the\nsame conclusion--that he could accomplish naught while half the breadth\nof the Ugambi separated him from the object of his hatred.\n\nBut how was he to span the crocodile-infested waters?  There was no\ncanoe nearer than the Mosula village, and Paulvitch was none too sure\nthat the Kincaid would still be at anchor in the river when he returned\nshould he take the time to traverse the jungle to the distant village\nand return with a canoe.  Yet there was no other way, and so, convinced\nthat thus alone might he hope to reach his prey, Paulvitch, with a\nparting scowl at the two figures upon the Kincaid's deck, turned away\nfrom the river.\n\nHastening through the dense jungle, his mind centred upon his one\nfetich--revenge--the Russian forgot even his terror of the savage world\nthrough which he moved.\n\nBaffled and beaten at every turn of Fortune's wheel, reacted upon time\nafter time by his own malign plotting, the principal victim of his own\ncriminality, Paulvitch was yet so blind as to imagine that his greatest\nhappiness lay in a continuation of the plottings and schemings which\nhad ever brought him and Rokoff to disaster, and the latter finally to\na hideous death.\n\nAs the Russian stumbled on through the jungle toward the Mosula village\nthere presently crystallized within his brain a plan which seemed more\nfeasible than any that he had as yet considered.\n\nHe would come by night to the side of the Kincaid, and once aboard,\nwould search out the members of the ship's original crew who had\nsurvived the terrors of this frightful expedition, and enlist them in\nan attempt to wrest the vessel from Tarzan and his beasts.\n\nIn the cabin were arms and ammunition, and hidden in a secret\nreceptacle in the cabin table was one of those infernal machines, the\nconstruction of which had occupied much of Paulvitch's spare time when\nhe had stood high in the confidence of the Nihilists of his native land.\n\nThat was before he had sold them out for immunity and gold to the\npolice of Petrograd.  Paulvitch winced as he recalled the denunciation\nof him that had fallen from the lips of one of his former comrades ere\nthe poor devil expiated his political sins at the end of a hempen rope.\n\nBut the infernal machine was the thing to think of now.   He could do\nmuch with that if he could but get his hands upon it.  Within the\nlittle hardwood case hidden in the cabin table rested sufficient\npotential destructiveness to wipe out in the fraction of a second every\nenemy aboard the Kincaid.\n\nPaulvitch licked his lips in anticipatory joy, and urged his tired legs\nto greater speed that he might not be too late to the ship's anchorage\nto carry out his designs.\n\nAll depended, of course, upon when the Kincaid departed.   The Russian\nrealized that nothing could be accomplished beneath the light of day.\nDarkness must shroud his approach to the ship's side, for should he be\nsighted by Tarzan or Lady Greystoke he would have no chance to board\nthe vessel.\n\nThe gale that was blowing was, he believed, the cause of the delay in\ngetting the Kincaid under way, and if it continued to blow until night\nthen the chances were all in his favour, for he knew that there was\nlittle likelihood of the ape-man attempting to navigate the tortuous\nchannel of the Ugambi while darkness lay upon the surface of the water,\nhiding the many bars and the numerous small islands which are scattered\nover the expanse of the river's mouth.\n\nIt was well after noon when Paulvitch came to the Mosula village upon\nthe bank of the tributary of the Ugambi.   Here he was received with\nsuspicion and unfriendliness by the native chief, who, like all those\nwho came in contact with Rokoff or Paulvitch, had suffered in some\nmanner from the greed, the cruelty, or the lust of the two Muscovites.\n\nWhen Paulvitch demanded the use of a canoe the chief grumbled a surly\nrefusal and ordered the white man from the village.  Surrounded by\nangry, muttering warriors who seemed to be but waiting some slight\npretext to transfix him with their menacing spears the Russian could do\nnaught else than withdraw.\n\nA dozen fighting men led him to the edge of the clearing, leaving him\nwith a warning never to show himself again in the vicinity of their\nvillage.\n\nStifling his anger, Paulvitch slunk into the jungle; but once beyond\nthe sight of the warriors he paused and listened intently.  He could\nhear the voices of his escort as the men returned to the village, and\nwhen he was sure that they were not following him he wormed his way\nthrough the bushes to the edge of the river, still determined some way\nto obtain a canoe.\n\nLife itself depended upon his reaching the Kincaid and enlisting the\nsurvivors of the ship's crew in his service, for to be abandoned here\namidst the dangers of the African jungle where he had won the enmity of\nthe natives was, he well knew, practically equivalent to a sentence of\ndeath.\n\nA desire for revenge acted as an almost equally powerful incentive to\nspur him into the face of danger to accomplish his design, so that it\nwas a desperate man that lay hidden in the foliage beside the little\nriver searching with eager eyes for some sign of a small canoe which\nmight be easily handled by a single paddle.\n\nNor had the Russian long to wait before one of the awkward little\nskiffs which the Mosula fashion came in sight upon the bosom of the\nriver.  A youth was paddling lazily out into midstream from a point\nbeside the village.  When he reached the channel he allowed the\nsluggish current to carry him slowly along while he lolled indolently\nin the bottom of his crude canoe.\n\nAll ignorant of the unseen enemy upon the river's bank the lad floated\nslowly down the stream while Paulvitch followed along the jungle path a\nfew yards behind him.\n\nA mile below the village the black boy dipped his paddle into the water\nand forced his skiff toward the bank.   Paulvitch, elated by the chance\nwhich had drawn the youth to the same side of the river as that along\nwhich he followed rather than to the opposite side where he would have\nbeen beyond the stalker's reach, hid in the brush close beside the\npoint at which it was evident the skiff would touch the bank of the\nslow-moving stream, which seemed jealous of each fleeting instant which\ndrew it nearer to the broad and muddy Ugambi where it must for ever\nlose its identity in the larger stream that would presently cast its\nwaters into the great ocean.\n\nEqually indolent were the motions of the Mosula youth as he drew his\nskiff beneath an overhanging limb of a great tree that leaned down to\nimplant a farewell kiss upon the bosom of the departing water,\ncaressing with green fronds the soft breast of its languorous love.\n\nAnd, snake-like, amidst the concealing foliage lay the malevolent Russ.\nCruel, shifty eyes gloated upon the outlines of the coveted canoe, and\nmeasured the stature of its owner, while the crafty brain weighed the\nchances of the white man should physical encounter with the black\nbecome necessary.\n\nOnly direct necessity could drive Alexander Paulvitch to personal\nconflict; but it was indeed dire necessity which goaded him on to\naction now.\n\nThere was time, just time enough, to reach the Kincaid by nightfall.\nWould the black fool never quit his skiff?  Paulvitch squirmed and\nfidgeted.  The lad yawned and stretched.   With exasperating\ndeliberateness he examined the arrows in his quiver, tested his bow,\nand looked to the edge upon the hunting-knife in his loin-cloth.\n\nAgain he stretched and yawned, glanced up at the river-bank, shrugged\nhis shoulders, and lay down in the bottom of his canoe for a little nap\nbefore he plunged into the jungle after the prey he had come forth to\nhunt.\n\nPaulvitch half rose, and with tensed muscles stood glaring down upon\nhis unsuspecting victim.  The boy's lids drooped and closed.  Presently\nhis breast rose and fell to the deep breaths of slumber.  The time had\ncome!\n\nThe Russian crept stealthily nearer.  A branch rustled beneath his\nweight and the lad stirred in his sleep.  Paulvitch drew his revolver\nand levelled it upon the black.  For a moment he remained in rigid\nquiet, and then again the youth relapsed into undisturbed slumber.\n\nThe white man crept closer.  He could not chance a shot until there was\nno risk of missing.  Presently he leaned close above the Mosula.  The\ncold steel of the revolver in his hand insinuated itself nearer and\nnearer to the breast of the unconscious lad.  Now it stopped but a few\ninches above the strongly beating heart.\n\nBut the pressure of a finger lay between the harmless boy and eternity.\nThe soft bloom of youth still lay upon the brown cheek, a smile half\nparted the beardless lips.  Did any qualm of conscience point its\ndisquieting finger of reproach at the murderer?\n\nTo all such was Alexander Paulvitch immune.  A sneer curled his bearded\nlip as his forefinger closed upon the trigger of his revolver.  There\nwas a loud report.  A little hole appeared above the heart of the\nsleeping boy, a little hole about which lay a blackened rim of\npowder-burned flesh.\n\nThe youthful body half rose to a sitting posture.  The smiling lips\ntensed to the nervous shock of a momentary agony which the conscious\nmind never apprehended, and then the dead sank limply back into that\ndeepest of slumbers from which there is no awakening.\n\nThe killer dropped quickly into the skiff beside the killed.  Ruthless\nhands seized the dead boy heartlessly and raised him to the low\ngunwale.  A little shove, a splash, some widening ripples broken by the\nsudden surge of a dark, hidden body from the slimy depths, and the\ncoveted canoe was in the sole possession of the white man--more savage\nthan the youth whose life he had taken.\n\nCasting off the tie rope and seizing the paddle, Paulvitch bent\nfeverishly to the task of driving the skiff downward toward the Ugambi\nat top speed.\n\nNight had fallen when the prow of the bloodstained craft shot out into\nthe current of the larger stream.  Constantly the Russian strained his\neyes into the increasing darkness ahead in vain endeavour to pierce the\nblack shadows which lay between him and the anchorage of the Kincaid.\n\nWas the ship still riding there upon the waters of the Ugambi, or had\nthe ape-man at last persuaded himself of the safety of venturing forth\ninto the abating storm?  As Paulvitch forged ahead with the current he\nasked himself these questions, and many more beside, not the least\ndisquieting of which were those which related to his future should it\nchance that the Kincaid had already steamed away, leaving him to the\nmerciless horrors of the savage wilderness.\n\nIn the darkness it seemed to the paddler that he was fairly flying over\nthe water, and he had become convinced that the ship had left her\nmoorings and that he had already passed the spot at which she had lain\nearlier in the day, when there appeared before him beyond a projecting\npoint which he had but just rounded the flickering light from a ship's\nlantern.\n\nAlexander Paulvitch could scarce restrain an exclamation of triumph.\nThe Kincaid had not departed!  Life and vengeance were not to elude him\nafter all.\n\nHe stopped paddling the moment that he descried the gleaming beacon of\nhope ahead of him.  Silently he drifted down the muddy waters of the\nUgambi, occasionally dipping his paddle's blade gently into the current\nthat he might guide his primitive craft to the vessel's side.\n\nAs he approached more closely the dark bulk of a ship loomed before him\nout of the blackness of the night.   No sound came from the vessel's\ndeck.  Paulvitch drifted, unseen, close to the Kincaid's side.  Only\nthe momentary scraping of his canoe's nose against the ship's planking\nbroke the silence of the night.\n\nTrembling with nervous excitement, the Russian remained motionless for\nseveral minutes; but there was no sound from the great bulk above him\nto indicate that his coming had been noted.\n\nStealthily he worked his craft forward until the stays of the bowsprit\nwere directly above him.  He could just reach them.   To make his canoe\nfast there was the work of but a minute or two, and then the man raised\nhimself quietly aloft.\n\nA moment later he dropped softly to the deck.  Thoughts of the hideous\npack which tenanted the ship induced cold tremors along the spine of\nthe cowardly prowler; but life itself depended upon the success of his\nventure, and so he was enabled to steel himself to the frightful\nchances which lay before him.\n\nNo sound or sign of watch appeared upon the ship's deck.   Paulvitch\ncrept stealthily toward the forecastle.   All was silence.  The hatch\nwas raised, and as the man peered downward he saw one of the Kincaid's\ncrew reading by the light of the smoky lantern depending from the\nceiling of the crew's quarters.\n\nPaulvitch knew the man well, a surly cut-throat upon whom he figured\nstrongly in the carrying out of the plan which he had conceived.\nGently the Russ lowered himself through the aperture to the rounds of\nthe ladder which led into the forecastle.\n\nHe kept his eyes turned upon the reading man, ready to warn him to\nsilence the moment that the fellow discovered him; but so deeply\nimmersed was the sailor in the magazine that the Russian came,\nunobserved, to the forecastle floor.\n\nThere he turned and whispered the reader's name.  The man raised his\neyes from the magazine--eyes that went wide for a moment as they fell\nupon the familiar countenance of Rokoff's lieutenant, only to narrow\ninstantly in a scowl of disapproval.\n\n\"The devil!\" he ejaculated.  \"Where did you come from?  We all thought\nyou were done for and gone where you ought to have gone a long time\nago.  His lordship will be mighty pleased to see you.\"\n\nPaulvitch crossed to the sailor's side.  A friendly smile lay on the\nRussian's lips, and his right hand was extended in greeting, as though\nthe other might have been a dear and long lost friend.  The sailor\nignored the proffered hand, nor did he return the other's smile.\n\n\"I've come to help you,\" explained Paulvitch.  \"I'm going to help you\nget rid of the Englishman and his beasts--then there will be no danger\nfrom the law when we get back to civilization.   We can sneak in on\nthem while they sleep--that is Greystoke, his wife, and that black\nscoundrel, Mugambi.  Afterward it will be a simple matter to clean up\nthe beasts.  Where are they?\"\n\n\"They're below,\" replied the sailor; \"but just let me tell you\nsomething, Paulvitch.  You haven't got no more show to turn us men\nagainst the Englishman than nothing.  We had all we wanted of you and\nthat other beast.  He's dead, an' if I don't miss my guess a whole lot\nyou'll be dead too before long.   You two treated us like dogs, and if\nyou think we got any love for you you better forget it.\"\n\n\"You mean to say that you're going to turn against me?\" demanded\nPaulvitch.\n\nThe other nodded, and then after a momentary pause, during which an\nidea seemed to have occurred to him, he spoke again.\n\n\"Unless,\" he said, \"you can make it worth my while to let you go before\nthe Englishman finds you here.\"\n\n\"You wouldn't turn me away in the jungle, would you?\" asked Paulvitch.\n\"Why, I'd die there in a week.\"\n\n\"You'd have a chance there,\" replied the sailor.  \"Here, you wouldn't\nhave no chance.  Why, if I woke up my maties here they'd probably cut\nyour heart out of you before the Englishman got a chance at you at all.\nIt's mighty lucky for you that I'm the one to be awake now and not none\nof the others.\"\n\n\"You're crazy,\" cried Paulvitch.  \"Don't you know that the Englishman\nwill have you all hanged when he gets you back where the law can get\nhold of you?\"\n\n\"No, he won't do nothing of the kind,\" replied the sailor.  \"He's told\nus as much, for he says that there wasn't nobody to blame but you and\nRokoff--the rest of us was just tools.  See?\"\n\nFor half an hour the Russian pleaded or threatened as the mood seized\nhim.  Sometimes he was upon the verge of tears, and again he was\npromising his listener either fabulous rewards or condign punishment;\nbut the other was obdurate.  [condign: of equal value]\n\nHe made it plain to the Russian that there were but two plans open to\nhim--either he must consent to being turned over immediately to Lord\nGreystoke, or he must pay to the sailor, as a price for permission to\nquit the Kincaid unmolested, every cent of money and article of value\nupon his person and in his cabin.\n\n\"And you'll have to make up your mind mighty quick,\" growled the man,\n\"for I want to turn in.  Come now, choose--his lordship or the jungle?\"\n\n\"You'll be sorry for this,\" grumbled the Russian.\n\n\"Shut up,\" admonished the sailor.  \"If you get funny I may change my\nmind, and keep you here after all.\"\n\nNow Paulvitch had no intention of permitting himself to fall into the\nhands of Tarzan of the Apes if he could possibly avoid it, and while\nthe terrors of the jungle appalled him they were, to his mind,\ninfinitely preferable to the certain death which he knew he merited and\nfor which he might look at the hands of the ape-man.\n\n\"Is anyone sleeping in my cabin?\" he asked.\n\nThe sailor shook his head.  \"No,\" he said; \"Lord and Lady Greystoke\nhave the captain's cabin.  The mate is in his own, and there ain't no\none in yours.\"\n\n\"I'll go and get my valuables for you,\" said Paulvitch.\n\n\"I'll go with you to see that you don't try any funny business,\" said\nthe sailor, and he followed the Russian up the ladder to the deck.\n\nAt the cabin entrance the sailor halted to watch, permitting Paulvitch\nto go alone to his cabin.  Here he gathered together his few belongings\nthat were to buy him the uncertain safety of escape, and as he stood\nfor a moment beside the little table on which he had piled them he\nsearched his brain for some feasible plan either to ensure his safety\nor to bring revenge upon his enemies.\n\nAnd presently as he thought there recurred to his memory the little\nblack box which lay hidden in a secret receptacle beneath a false top\nupon the table where his hand rested.\n\nThe Russian's face lighted to a sinister gleam of malevolent\nsatisfaction as he stooped and felt beneath the table top.   A moment\nlater he withdrew from its hiding-place the thing he sought.  He had\nlighted the lantern swinging from the beams overhead that he might see\nto collect his belongings, and now he held the black box well in the\nrays of the lamplight, while he fingered at the clasp that fastened its\nlid.\n\nThe lifted cover revealed two compartments within the box.   In one was\na mechanism which resembled the works of a small clock.  There also was\na little battery of two dry cells.  A wire ran from the clockwork to\none of the poles of the battery, and from the other pole through the\npartition into the other compartment, a second wire returning directly\nto the clockwork.\n\nWhatever lay within the second compartment was not visible, for a cover\nlay over it and appeared to be sealed in place by asphaltum.  In the\nbottom of the box, beside the clockwork, lay a key, and this Paulvitch\nnow withdrew and fitted to the winding stem.\n\nGently he turned the key, muffling the noise of the winding operation\nby throwing a couple of articles of clothing over the box.  All the\ntime he listened intently for any sound which might indicate that the\nsailor or another were approaching his cabin; but none came to\ninterrupt his work.\n\nWhen the winding was completed the Russian set a pointer upon a small\ndial at the side of the clockwork, then he replaced the cover upon the\nblack box, and returned the entire machine to its hiding-place in the\ntable.\n\nA sinister smile curled the man's bearded lips as he gathered up his\nvaluables, blew out the lamp, and stepped from his cabin to the side of\nthe waiting sailor.\n\n\"Here are my things,\" said the Russian; \"now let me go.\"\n\n\"I'll first take a look in your pockets,\" replied the sailor.   \"You\nmight have overlooked some trifling thing that won't be of no use to\nyou in the jungle, but that'll come in mighty handy to a poor sailorman\nin London.  Ah! just as I feared,\" he ejaculated an instant later as he\nwithdrew a roll of bank-notes from Paulvitch's inside coat pocket.\n\nThe Russian scowled, muttering an imprecation; but nothing could be\ngained by argument, and so he did his best to reconcile himself to his\nloss in the knowledge that the sailor would never reach London to enjoy\nthe fruits of his thievery.\n\nIt was with difficulty that Paulvitch restrained a consuming desire to\ntaunt the man with a suggestion of the fate that would presently\novertake him and the other members of the Kincaid's company; but\nfearing to arouse the fellow's suspicions, he crossed the deck and\nlowered himself in silence into his canoe.\n\nA minute or two later he was paddling toward the shore to be swallowed\nup in the darkness of the jungle night, and the terrors of a hideous\nexistence from which, could he have had even a slight foreknowledge of\nwhat awaited him in the long years to come, he would have fled to the\ncertain death of the open sea rather than endure it.\n\nThe sailor, having made sure that Paulvitch had departed, returned to\nthe forecastle, where he hid away his booty and turned into his bunk,\nwhile in the cabin that had belonged to the Russian there ticked on and\non through the silences of the night the little mechanism in the small\nblack box which held for the unconscious sleepers upon the ill-starred\nKincaid the coming vengeance of the thwarted Russian.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\nThe Last of the \"Kincaid\"\n\n\nShortly after the break of day Tarzan was on deck noting the condition\nof the weather.  The wind had abated.   The sky was cloudless.  Every\ncondition seemed ideal for the commencement of the return voyage to\nJungle Island, where the beasts were to be left.  And then--home!\n\nThe ape-man aroused the mate and gave instructions that the Kincaid\nsail at the earliest possible moment.   The remaining members of the\ncrew, safe in Lord Greystoke's assurance that they would not be\nprosecuted for their share in the villainies of the two Russians,\nhastened with cheerful alacrity to their several duties.\n\nThe beasts, liberated from the confinement of the hold, wandered about\nthe deck, not a little to the discomfiture of the crew in whose minds\nthere remained a still vivid picture of the savagery of the beasts in\nconflict with those who had gone to their deaths beneath the fangs and\ntalons which even now seemed itching for the soft flesh of further prey.\n\nBeneath the watchful eyes of Tarzan and Mugambi, however, Sheeta and\nthe apes of Akut curbed their desires, so that the men worked about the\ndeck amongst them in far greater security than they imagined.\n\nAt last the Kincaid slipped down the Ugambi and ran out upon the\nshimmering waters of the Atlantic.  Tarzan and Jane Clayton watched the\nverdure-clad shore-line receding in the ship's wake, and for once the\nape-man left his native soil without one single pang of regret.\n\nNo ship that sailed the seven seas could have borne him away from\nAfrica to resume his search for his lost boy with half the speed that\nthe Englishman would have desired, and the slow-moving Kincaid seemed\nscarce to move at all to the impatient mind of the bereaved father.\n\nYet the vessel made progress even when she seemed to be standing still,\nand presently the low hills of Jungle Island became distinctly visible\nupon the western horizon ahead.\n\nIn the cabin of Alexander Paulvitch the thing within the black box\nticked, ticked, ticked, with apparently unending monotony; but yet,\nsecond by second, a little arm which protruded from the periphery of\none of its wheels came nearer and nearer to another little arm which\nprojected from the hand which Paulvitch had set at a certain point upon\nthe dial beside the clockwork.  When those two arms touched one another\nthe ticking of the mechanism would cease--for ever.\n\nJane and Tarzan stood upon the bridge looking out toward Jungle Island.\nThe men were forward, also watching the land grow upward out of the\nocean.  The beasts had sought the shade of the galley, where they were\ncurled up in sleep.   All was quiet and peace upon the ship, and upon\nthe waters.\n\nSuddenly, without warning, the cabin roof shot up into the air, a cloud\nof dense smoke puffed far above the Kincaid, there was a terrific\nexplosion which shook the vessel from stem to stern.\n\nInstantly pandemonium broke loose upon the deck.  The apes of Akut,\nterrified by the sound, ran hither and thither, snarling and growling.\nSheeta leaped here and there, screaming out his startled terror in\nhideous cries that sent the ice of fear straight to the hearts of the\nKincaid's crew.\n\nMugambi, too, was trembling.  Only Tarzan of the Apes and his wife\nretained their composure.  Scarce had the debris settled than the\nape-man was among the beasts, quieting their fears, talking to them in\nlow, pacific tones, stroking their shaggy bodies, and assuring them, as\nonly he could, that the immediate danger was over.\n\nAn examination of the wreckage showed that their greatest danger, now,\nlay in fire, for the flames were licking hungrily at the splintered\nwood of the wrecked cabin, and had already found a foothold upon the\nlower deck through a great jagged hole which the explosion had opened.\n\nBy a miracle no member of the ship's company had been injured by the\nblast, the origin of which remained for ever a total mystery to all but\none--the sailor who knew that Paulvitch had been aboard the Kincaid and\nin his cabin the previous night.   He guessed the truth; but discretion\nsealed his lips.  It would, doubtless, fare none too well for the man\nwho had permitted the arch enemy of them all aboard the ship in the\nwatches of the night, where later he might set an infernal machine to\nblow them all to kingdom come.  No, the man decided that he would keep\nthis knowledge to himself.\n\nAs the flames gained headway it became apparent to Tarzan that whatever\nhad caused the explosion had scattered some highly inflammable\nsubstance upon the surrounding woodwork, for the water which they\npoured in from the pump seemed rather to spread than to extinguish the\nblaze.\n\nFifteen minutes after the explosion great, black clouds of smoke were\nrising from the hold of the doomed vessel.   The flames had reached the\nengine-room, and the ship no longer moved toward the shore.  Her fate\nwas as certain as though the waters had already closed above her\ncharred and smoking remains.\n\n\"It is useless to remain aboard her longer,\" remarked the ape-man to\nthe mate.  \"There is no telling but there may be other explosions, and\nas we cannot hope to save her, the safest thing which we can do is to\ntake to the boats without further loss of time and make land.\"\n\nNor was there other alternative.  Only the sailors could bring away any\nbelongings, for the fire, which had not yet reached the forecastle, had\nconsumed all in the vicinity of the cabin which the explosion had not\ndestroyed.\n\nTwo boats were lowered, and as there was no sea the landing was made\nwith infinite ease.  Eager and anxious, the beasts of Tarzan sniffed\nthe familiar air of their native island as the small boats drew in\ntoward the beach, and scarce had their keels grated upon the sand than\nSheeta and the apes of Akut were over the bows and racing swiftly\ntoward the jungle.   A half-sad smile curved the lips of the ape-man as\nhe watched them go.\n\n\"Good-bye, my friends,\" he murmured.  \"You have been good and faithful\nallies, and I shall miss you.\"\n\n\"They will return, will they not, dear?\" asked Jane Clayton, at his\nside.\n\n\"They may and they may not,\" replied the ape-man.  \"They have been ill\nat ease since they were forced to accept so many human beings into\ntheir confidence.  Mugambi and I alone affected them less, for he and I\nare, at best, but half human.  You, however, and the members of the\ncrew are far too civilized for my beasts--it is you whom they are\nfleeing.   Doubtless they feel that they cannot trust themselves in the\nclose vicinity of so much perfectly good food without the danger that\nthey may help themselves to a mouthful some time by mistake.\"\n\nJane laughed.  \"I think they are just trying to escape you,\" she\nretorted.  \"You are always making them stop something which they see no\nreason why they should not do.  Like little children they are doubtless\ndelighted at this opportunity to flee from the zone of parental\ndiscipline.  If they come back, though, I hope they won't come by\nnight.\"\n\n\"Or come hungry, eh?\" laughed Tarzan.\n\nFor two hours after landing the little party stood watching the burning\nship which they had abandoned.  Then there came faintly to them from\nacross the water the sound of a second explosion.   The Kincaid settled\nrapidly almost immediately thereafter, and sank within a few minutes.\n\nThe cause of the second explosion was less a mystery than that of the\nfirst, the mate attributing it to the bursting of the boilers when the\nflames had finally reached them; but what had caused the first\nexplosion was a subject of considerable speculation among the stranded\ncompany.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\nJungle Island Again\n\n\nThe first consideration of the party was to locate fresh water and make\ncamp, for all knew that their term of existence upon Jungle Island\nmight be drawn out to months, or even years.\n\nTarzan knew the nearest water, and to this he immediately led the\nparty.  Here the men fell to work to construct shelters and rude\nfurniture while Tarzan went into the jungle after meat, leaving the\nfaithful Mugambi and the Mosula woman to guard Jane, whose safety he\nwould never trust to any member of the Kincaid's cut-throat crew.\n\nLady Greystoke suffered far greater anguish than any other of the\ncastaways, for the blow to her hopes and her already cruelly lacerated\nmother-heart lay not in her own privations but in the knowledge that\nshe might now never be able to learn the fate of her first-born or do\naught to discover his whereabouts, or ameliorate his condition--a\ncondition which imagination naturally pictured in the most frightful\nforms.\n\nFor two weeks the party divided the time amongst the various duties\nwhich had been allotted to each.  A daylight watch was maintained from\nsunrise to sunset upon a bluff near the camp--a jutting shoulder of\nrock which overlooked the sea.  Here, ready for instant lighting, was\ngathered a huge pile of dry branches, while from a lofty pole which\nthey had set in the ground there floated an improvised distress signal\nfashioned from a red undershirt which belonged to the mate of the\nKincaid.\n\nBut never a speck upon the horizon that might be sail or smoke rewarded\nthe tired eyes that in their endless, hopeless vigil strained daily out\nacross the vast expanse of ocean.\n\nIt was Tarzan who suggested, finally, that they attempt to construct a\nvessel that would bear them back to the mainland.   He alone could show\nthem how to fashion rude tools, and when the idea had taken root in the\nminds of the men they were eager to commence their labours.\n\nBut as time went on and the Herculean nature of their task became more\nand more apparent they fell to grumbling, and to quarrelling among\nthemselves, so that to the other dangers were now added dissension and\nsuspicion.\n\nMore than before did Tarzan now fear to leave Jane among the half\nbrutes of the Kincaid's crew; but hunting he must do, for none other\ncould so surely go forth and return with meat as he.  Sometimes Mugambi\nspelled him at the hunting; but the black's spear and arrows were never\nso sure of results as the rope and knife of the ape-man.\n\nFinally the men shirked their work, going off into the jungle by twos\nto explore and to hunt.  All this time the camp had had no sight of\nSheeta, or Akut and the other great apes, though Tarzan had sometimes\nmet them in the jungle as he hunted.\n\nAnd as matters tended from bad to worse in the camp of the castaways\nupon the east coast of Jungle Island, another camp came into being upon\nthe north coast.\n\nHere, in a little cove, lay a small schooner, the Cowrie, whose decks\nhad but a few days since run red with the blood of her officers and the\nloyal members of her crew, for the Cowrie had fallen upon bad days when\nit had shipped such men as Gust and Momulla the Maori and that\narch-fiend Kai Shang of Fachan.\n\nThere were others, too, ten of them all told, the scum of the South Sea\nports; but Gust and Momulla and Kai Shang were the brains and cunning\nof the company.  It was they who had instigated the mutiny that they\nmight seize and divide the catch of pearls which constituted the wealth\nof the Cowrie's cargo.\n\nIt was Kai Shang who had murdered the captain as he lay asleep in his\nberth, and it had been Momulla the Maori who had led the attack upon\nthe officer of the watch.\n\nGust, after his own peculiar habit, had found means to delegate to the\nothers the actual taking of life.  Not that Gust entertained any\nscruples on the subject, other than those which induced in him a rare\nregard for his own personal safety.   There is always a certain element\nof risk to the assassin, for victims of deadly assault are seldom prone\nto die quietly and considerately.  There is always a certain element of\nrisk to go so far as to dispute the issue with the murderer.  It was\nthis chance of dispute which Gust preferred to forgo.\n\nBut now that the work was done the Swede aspired to the position of\nhighest command among the mutineers.  He had even gone so far as to\nappropriate and wear certain articles belonging to the murdered captain\nof the Cowrie--articles of apparel which bore upon them the badges and\ninsignia of authority.\n\nKai Shang was peeved.  He had no love for authority, and certainly not\nthe slightest intention of submitting to the domination of an ordinary\nSwede sailor.\n\nThe seeds of discontent were, therefore, already planted in the camp of\nthe mutineers of the Cowrie at the north edge of Jungle Island.  But\nKai Shang realized that he must act with circumspection, for Gust alone\nof the motley horde possessed sufficient knowledge of navigation to get\nthem out of the South Atlantic and around the cape into more congenial\nwaters where they might find a market for their ill-gotten wealth, and\nno questions asked.\n\nThe day before they sighted Jungle Island and discovered the little\nland-locked harbour upon the bosom of which the Cowrie now rode quietly\nat anchor, the watch had discovered the smoke and funnels of a warship\nupon the southern horizon.\n\nThe chance of being spoken to and investigated by a man-of-war appealed\nnot at all to any of them, so they put into hiding for a few days until\nthe danger should have passed.\n\nAnd now Gust did not wish to venture out to sea again.   There was no\ntelling, he insisted, but that the ship they had seen was actually\nsearching for them.  Kai Shang pointed out that such could not be the\ncase since it was impossible for any human being other than themselves\nto have knowledge of what had transpired aboard the Cowrie.\n\nBut Gust was not to be persuaded.  In his wicked heart he nursed a\nscheme whereby he might increase his share of the booty by something\nlike one hundred per cent.  He alone could sail the Cowrie, therefore\nthe others could not leave Jungle Island without him; but what was\nthere to prevent Gust, with just sufficient men to man the schooner,\nslipping away from Kai Shang, Momulla the Maori, and some half of the\ncrew when opportunity presented?\n\nIt was for this opportunity that Gust waited.  Some day there would\ncome a moment when Kai Shang, Momulla, and three or four of the others\nwould be absent from camp, exploring or hunting.  The Swede racked his\nbrain for some plan whereby he might successfully lure from the sight\nof the anchored ship those whom he had determined to abandon.\n\nTo this end he organized hunting party after hunting party, but always\nthe devil of perversity seemed to enter the soul of Kai Shang, so that\nwily celestial would never hunt except in the company of Gust himself.\n\nOne day Kai Shang spoke secretly with Momulla the Maori, pouring into\nthe brown ear of his companion the suspicions which he harboured\nconcerning the Swede.  Momulla was for going immediately and running a\nlong knife through the heart of the traitor.\n\nIt is true that Kai Shang had no other evidence than the natural\ncunning of his own knavish soul--but he imagined in the intentions of\nGust what he himself would have been glad to accomplish had the means\nlain at hand.\n\nBut he dared not let Momulla slay the Swede, upon whom they depended to\nguide them to their destination.   They decided, however, that it would\ndo no harm to attempt to frighten Gust into acceding to their demands,\nand with this purpose in mind the Maori sought out the self-constituted\ncommander of the party.\n\nWhen he broached the subject of immediate departure Gust again raised\nhis former objection--that the warship might very probably be\npatrolling the sea directly in their southern path, waiting for them to\nmake the attempt to reach other waters.\n\nMomulla scoffed at the fears of his fellow, pointing out that as no one\naboard any warship knew of their mutiny there could be no reason why\nthey should be suspected.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Gust, \"there is where you are wrong.   There is where\nyou are lucky that you have an educated man like me to tell you what to\ndo.  You are an ignorant savage, Momulla, and so you know nothing of\nwireless.\"\n\nThe Maori leaped to his feet and laid his hand upon the hilt of his\nknife.\n\n\"I am no savage,\" he shouted.\n\n\"I was only joking,\" the Swede hastened to explain.  \"We are old\nfriends, Momulla; we cannot afford to quarrel, at least not while old\nKai Shang is plotting to steal all the pearls from us.  If he could\nfind a man to navigate the Cowrie he would leave us in a minute.  All\nhis talk about getting away from here is just because he has some\nscheme in his head to get rid of us.\"\n\n\"But the wireless,\" asked Momulla.  \"What has the wireless to do with\nour remaining here?\"\n\n\"Oh yes,\" replied Gust, scratching his head.  He was wondering if the\nMaori were really so ignorant as to believe the preposterous lie he was\nabout to unload upon him.  \"Oh yes!  You see every warship is equipped\nwith what they call a wireless apparatus.  It lets them talk to other\nships hundreds of miles away, and it lets them listen to all that is\nsaid on these other ships.  Now, you see, when you fellows were\nshooting up the Cowrie you did a whole lot of loud talking, and there\nisn't any doubt but that that warship was a-lyin' off south of us\nlistenin' to it all.  Of course they might not have learned the name of\nthe ship, but they heard enough to know that the crew of some ship was\nmutinying and killin' her officers.  So you see they'll be waiting to\nsearch every ship they sight for a long time to come, and they may not\nbe far away now.\"\n\nWhen he had ceased speaking the Swede strove to assume an air of\ncomposure that his listener might not have his suspicions aroused as to\nthe truth of the statements that had just been made.\n\nMomulla sat for some time in silence, eyeing Gust.  At last he rose.\n\n\"You are a great liar,\" he said.  \"If you don't get us on our way by\ntomorrow you'll never have another chance to lie, for I heard two of\nthe men saying that they'd like to run a knife into you and that if you\nkept them in this hole any longer they'd do it.\"\n\n\"Go and ask Kai Shang if there is not a wireless,\" replied Gust.  \"He\nwill tell you that there is such a thing and that vessels can talk to\none another across hundreds of miles of water.   Then say to the two\nmen who wish to kill me that if they do so they will never live to\nspend their share of the swag, for only I can get you safely to any\nport.\"\n\nSo Momulla went to Kai Shang and asked him if there was such an\napparatus as a wireless by means of which ships could talk with each\nother at great distances, and Kai Shang told him that there was.\n\nMomulla was puzzled; but still he wished to leave the island, and was\nwilling to take his chances on the open sea rather than to remain\nlonger in the monotony of the camp.\n\n\"If we only had someone else who could navigate a ship!\" wailed Kai\nShang.\n\nThat afternoon Momulla went hunting with two other Maoris.   They\nhunted toward the south, and had not gone far from camp when they were\nsurprised by the sound of voices ahead of them in the jungle.\n\nThey knew that none of their own men had preceded them, and as all were\nconvinced that the island was uninhabited, they were inclined to flee\nin terror on the hypothesis that the place was haunted--possibly by the\nghosts of the murdered officers and men of the Cowrie.\n\nBut Momulla was even more curious than he was superstitious, and so he\nquelled his natural desire to flee from the supernatural.  Motioning\nhis companions to follow his example, he dropped to his hands and\nknees, crawling forward stealthily and with quakings of heart through\nthe jungle in the direction from which came the voices of the unseen\nspeakers.\n\nPresently, at the edge of a little clearing, he halted, and there he\nbreathed a deep sigh of relief, for plainly before him he saw two\nflesh-and-blood men sitting upon a fallen log and talking earnestly\ntogether.\n\nOne was Schneider, mate of the Kincaid, and the other was a seaman\nnamed Schmidt.\n\n\"I think we can do it, Schmidt,\" Schneider was saying.   \"A good canoe\nwouldn't be hard to build, and three of us could paddle it to the\nmainland in a day if the wind was right and the sea reasonably calm.\nThere ain't no use waiting for the men to build a big enough boat to\ntake the whole party, for they're sore now and sick of working like\nslaves all day long.   It ain't none of our business anyway to save the\nEnglishman.   Let him look out for himself, says I.\"  He paused for a\nmoment, and then eyeing the other to note the effect of his next words,\nhe continued, \"But we might take the woman.  It would be a shame to\nleave a nice-lookin' piece like she is in such a Gott-forsaken hole as\nthis here island.\"\n\nSchmidt looked up and grinned.\n\n\"So that's how she's blowin', is it?\" he asked.  \"Why didn't you say so\nin the first place?  Wot's in it for me if I help you?\"\n\n\"She ought to pay us well to get her back to civilization,\" explained\nSchneider, \"an' I tell you what I'll do.  I'll just whack up with the\ntwo men that helps me.  I'll take half an' they can divide the other\nhalf--you an' whoever the other bloke is.  I'm sick of this place, an'\nthe sooner I get out of it the better I'll like it.  What do you say?\"\n\n\"Suits me,\" replied Schmidt.  \"I wouldn't know how to reach the\nmainland myself, an' know that none o' the other fellows would, so's\nyou're the only one that knows anything of navigation you're the fellow\nI'll tie to.\"\n\nMomulla the Maori pricked up his ears.  He had a smattering of every\ntongue that is spoken upon the seas, and more than a few times had he\nsailed on English ships, so that he understood fairly well all that had\npassed between Schneider and Schmidt since he had stumbled upon them.\n\nHe rose to his feet and stepped into the clearing.  Schneider and his\ncompanion started as nervously as though a ghost had risen before them.\nSchneider reached for his revolver.  Momulla raised his right hand,\npalm forward, as a sign of his pacific intentions.\n\n\"I am a friend,\" he said.  \"I heard you; but do not fear that I will\nreveal what you have said.  I can help you, and you can help me.\"  He\nwas addressing Schneider.  \"You can navigate a ship, but you have no\nship.  We have a ship, but no one to navigate it.  If you will come\nwith us and ask no questions we will let you take the ship where you\nwill after you have landed us at a certain port, the name of which we\nwill give you later.  You can take the woman of whom you speak, and we\nwill ask no questions either.  Is it a bargain?\"\n\nSchneider desired more information, and got as much as Momulla thought\nbest to give him.  Then the Maori suggested that they speak with Kai\nShang.  The two members of the Kincaid's company followed Momulla and\nhis fellows to a point in the jungle close by the camp of the\nmutineers.   Here Momulla hid them while he went in search of Kai\nShang, first admonishing his Maori companions to stand guard over the\ntwo sailors lest they change their minds and attempt to escape.\nSchneider and Schmidt were virtually prisoners, though they did not\nknow it.\n\nPresently Momulla returned with Kai Shang, to whom he had briefly\nnarrated the details of the stroke of good fortune that had come to\nthem.  The Chinaman spoke at length with Schneider, until,\nnotwithstanding his natural suspicion of the sincerity of all men, he\nbecame quite convinced that Schneider was quite as much a rogue as\nhimself and that the fellow was anxious to leave the island.\n\nThese two premises accepted there could be little doubt that Schneider\nwould prove trustworthy in so far as accepting the command of the\nCowrie was concerned; after that Kai Shang knew that he could find\nmeans to coerce the man into submission to his further wishes.\n\nWhen Schneider and Schmidt left them and set out in the direction of\ntheir own camp, it was with feelings of far greater relief than they\nhad experienced in many a day.   Now at last they saw a feasible plan\nfor leaving the island upon a seaworthy craft.  There would be no more\nhard labour at ship-building, and no risking their lives upon a crudely\nbuilt makeshift that would be quite as likely to go to the bottom as it\nwould to reach the mainland.\n\nAlso, they were to have assistance in capturing the woman, or rather\nwomen, for when Momulla had learned that there was a black woman in the\nother camp he had insisted that she be brought along as well as the\nwhite woman.\n\nAs Kai Shang and Momulla entered their camp, it was with a realization\nthat they no longer needed Gust.   They marched straight to the tent in\nwhich they might expect to find him at that hour of the day, for though\nit would have been more comfortable for the entire party to remain\naboard the ship, they had mutually decided that it would be safer for\nall concerned were they to pitch their camp ashore.\n\nEach knew that in the heart of the others was sufficient treachery to\nmake it unsafe for any member of the party to go ashore leaving the\nothers in possession of the Cowrie, so not more than two or three men\nat a time were ever permitted aboard the vessel unless all the balance\nof the company was there too.\n\nAs the two crossed toward Gust's tent the Maori felt the edge of his\nlong knife with one grimy, calloused thumb.   The Swede would have felt\nfar from comfortable could he have seen this significant action, or\nread what was passing amid the convolutions of the brown man's cruel\nbrain.\n\nNow it happened that Gust was at that moment in the tent occupied by\nthe cook, and this tent stood but a few feet from his own.  So that he\nheard the approach of Kai Shang and Momulla, though he did not, of\ncourse, dream that it had any special significance for him.\n\nChance had it, though, that he glanced out of the doorway of the cook's\ntent at the very moment that Kai Shang and Momulla approached the\nentrance to his, and he thought that he noted a stealthiness in their\nmovements that comported poorly with amicable or friendly intentions,\nand then, just as they two slunk within the interior, Gust caught a\nglimpse of the long knife which Momulla the Maori was then carrying\nbehind his back.\n\nThe Swede's eyes opened wide, and a funny little sensation assailed the\nroots of his hairs.  Also he turned almost white beneath his tan.\nQuite precipitately he left the cook's tent.   He was not one who\nrequired a detailed exposition of intentions that were quite all too\nobvious.\n\nAs surely as though he had heard them plotting, he knew that Kai Shang\nand Momulla had come to take his life.   The knowledge that he alone\ncould navigate the Cowrie had, up to now, been sufficient assurance of\nhis safety; but quite evidently something had occurred of which he had\nno knowledge that would make it quite worth the while of his\nco-conspirators to eliminate him.\n\nWithout a pause Gust darted across the beach and into the jungle.  He\nwas afraid of the jungle; uncanny noises that were indeed frightful\ncame forth from its recesses--the tangled mazes of the mysterious\ncountry back of the beach.\n\nBut if Gust was afraid of the jungle he was far more afraid of Kai\nShang and Momulla.  The dangers of the jungle were more or less\nproblematical, while the danger that menaced him at the hands of his\ncompanions was a perfectly well-known quantity, which might be\nexpressed in terms of a few inches of cold steel, or the coil of a\nlight rope.  He had seen Kai Shang garrotte a man at Pai-sha in a dark\nalleyway back of Loo Kotai's place.  He feared the rope, therefore,\nmore than he did the knife of the Maori; but he feared them both too\nmuch to remain within reach of either.  Therefore he chose the pitiless\njungle.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\nThe Law of the Jungle\n\n\nIn Tarzan's camp, by dint of threats and promised rewards, the ape-man\nhad finally succeeded in getting the hull of a large skiff almost\ncompleted.  Much of the work he and Mugambi had done with their own\nhands in addition to furnishing the camp with meat.\n\nSchneider, the mate, had been doing considerable grumbling, and had at\nlast openly deserted the work and gone off into the jungle with Schmidt\nto hunt.  He said that he wanted a rest, and Tarzan, rather than add to\nthe unpleasantness which already made camp life almost unendurable, had\npermitted the two men to depart without a remonstrance.\n\nUpon the following day, however, Schneider affected a feeling of\nremorse for his action, and set to work with a will upon the skiff.\nSchmidt also worked good-naturedly, and Lord Greystoke congratulated\nhimself that at last the men had awakened to the necessity for the\nlabour which was being asked of them and to their obligations to the\nbalance of the party.\n\nIt was with a feeling of greater relief than he had experienced for\nmany a day that he set out that noon to hunt deep in the jungle for a\nherd of small deer which Schneider reported that he and Schmidt had\nseen there the day before.\n\nThe direction in which Schneider had reported seeing the deer was\ntoward the south-west, and to that point the ape-man swung easily\nthrough the tangled verdure of the forest.\n\nAnd as he went there approached from the north a half-dozen\nill-featured men who went stealthily through the jungle as go men bent\nupon the commission of a wicked act.\n\nThey thought that they travelled unseen; but behind them, almost from\nthe moment they quitted their own camp, a tall man crept upon their\ntrail.  In the man's eyes were hate and fear, and a great curiosity.\nWhy went Kai Shang and Momulla and the others thus stealthily toward\nthe south?  What did they expect to find there?  Gust shook his\nlow-browed head in perplexity.  But he would know.  He would follow\nthem and learn their plans, and then if he could thwart them he\nwould--that went without question.\n\nAt first he had thought that they searched for him; but finally his\nbetter judgment assured him that such could not be the case, since they\nhad accomplished all they really desired by chasing him out of camp.\nNever would Kai Shang or Momulla go to such pains to slay him or\nanother unless it would put money into their pockets, and as Gust had\nno money it was evident that they were searching for someone else.\n\nPresently the party he trailed came to a halt.  Its members concealed\nthemselves in the foliage bordering the game trail along which they had\ncome.  Gust, that he might the better observe, clambered into the\nbranches of a tree to the rear of them, being careful that the leafy\nfronds hid him from the view of his erstwhile mates.\n\nHe had not long to wait before he saw a strange white man approach\ncarefully along the trail from the south.\n\nAt sight of the new-comer Momulla and Kai Shang arose from their places\nof concealment and greeted him.  Gust could not overhear what passed\nbetween them.  Then the man returned in the direction from which he had\ncome.\n\nHe was Schneider.  Nearing his camp he circled to the opposite side of\nit, and presently came running in breathlessly.   Excitedly he hastened\nto Mugambi.\n\n\"Quick!\" he cried.  \"Those apes of yours have caught Schmidt and will\nkill him if we do not hasten to his aid.  You alone can call them off.\nTake Jones and Sullivan--you may need help--and get to him as quick as\nyou can.  Follow the game trail south for about a mile.  I will remain\nhere.  I am too spent with running to go back with you,\" and the mate\nof the Kincaid threw himself upon the ground, panting as though he was\nalmost done for.\n\nMugambi hesitated.  He had been left to guard the two women.   He did\nnot know what to do, and then Jane Clayton, who had heard Schneider's\nstory, added her pleas to those of the mate.\n\n\"Do not delay,\" she urged.  \"We shall be all right here.   Mr.\nSchneider will remain with us.  Go, Mugambi.  The poor fellow must be\nsaved.\"\n\nSchmidt, who lay hidden in a bush at the edge of the camp, grinned.\nMugambi, heeding the commands of his mistress, though still doubtful of\nthe wisdom of his action, started off toward the south, with Jones and\nSullivan at his heels.\n\nNo sooner had he disappeared than Schmidt rose and darted north into\nthe jungle, and a few minutes later the face of Kai Shang of Fachan\nappeared at the edge of the clearing.  Schneider saw the Chinaman, and\nmotioned to him that the coast was clear.\n\nJane Clayton and the Mosula woman were sitting at the opening of the\nformer's tent, their backs toward the approaching ruffians.  The first\nintimation that either had of the presence of strangers in camp was the\nsudden appearance of a half-dozen ragged villains about them.\n\n\"Come!\" said Kai Shang, motioning that the two arise and follow him.\n\nJane Clayton sprang to her feet and looked about for Schneider, only to\nsee him standing behind the newcomers, a grin upon his face.  At his\nside stood Schmidt.  Instantly she saw that she had been made the\nvictim of a plot.\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" she asked, addressing the mate.\n\n\"It means that we have found a ship and that we can now escape from\nJungle Island,\" replied the man.\n\n\"Why did you send Mugambi and the others into the jungle?\" she inquired.\n\n\"They are not coming with us--only you and I, and the Mosula woman.\"\n\n\"Come!\" repeated Kai Shang, and seized Jane Clayton's wrist.\n\nOne of the Maoris grasped the black woman by the arm, and when she\nwould have screamed struck her across the mouth.\n\nMugambi raced through the jungle toward the south.  Jones and Sullivan\ntrailed far behind.  For a mile he continued upon his way to the relief\nof Schmidt, but no signs saw he of the missing man or of any of the\napes of Akut.\n\nAt last he halted and called aloud the summons which he and Tarzan had\nused to hail the great anthropoids.  There was no response.  Jones and\nSullivan came up with the black warrior as the latter stood voicing his\nweird call.  For another half-mile the black searched, calling\noccasionally.\n\nFinally the truth flashed upon him, and then, like a frightened deer,\nhe wheeled and dashed back toward camp.   Arriving there, it was but a\nmoment before full confirmation of his fears was impressed upon him.\nLady Greystoke and the Mosula woman were gone.  So, likewise, was\nSchneider.\n\nWhen Jones and Sullivan joined Mugambi he would have killed them in his\nanger, thinking them parties to the plot; but they finally succeeded in\npartially convincing him that they had known nothing of it.\n\nAs they stood speculating upon the probable whereabouts of the women\nand their abductor, and the purpose which Schneider had in mind in\ntaking them from camp, Tarzan of the Apes swung from the branches of a\ntree and crossed the clearing toward them.\n\nHis keen eyes detected at once that something was radically wrong, and\nwhen he had heard Mugambi's story his jaws clicked angrily together as\nhe knitted his brows in thought.\n\nWhat could the mate hope to accomplish by taking Jane Clayton from a\ncamp upon a small island from which there was no escape from the\nvengeance of Tarzan?  The ape-man could not believe the fellow such a\nfool, and then a slight realization of the truth dawned upon him.\n\nSchneider would not have committed such an act unless he had been\nreasonably sure that there was a way by which he could quit Jungle\nIsland with his prisoners.  But why had he taken the black woman as\nwell?  There must have been others, one of whom wanted the dusky female.\n\n\"Come,\" said Tarzan, \"there is but one thing to do now, and that is to\nfollow the trail.\"\n\nAs he finished speaking a tall, ungainly figure emerged from the jungle\nnorth of the camp.  He came straight toward the four men.  He was an\nentire stranger to all of them, not one of whom had dreamed that\nanother human being than those of their own camp dwelt upon the\nunfriendly shores of Jungle Island.\n\nIt was Gust.  He came directly to the point.\n\n\"Your women were stolen,\" he said.  \"If you want ever to see them\nagain, come quickly and follow me.  If we do not hurry the Cowrie will\nbe standing out to sea by the time we reach her anchorage.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked Tarzan.  \"What do you know of the theft of my wife\nand the black woman?\"\n\n\"I heard Kai Shang and Momulla the Maori plot with two men of your\ncamp.  They had chased me from our camp, and would have killed me.  Now\nI will get even with them.  Come!\"\n\nGust led the four men of the Kincaid's camp at a rapid trot through the\njungle toward the north.  Would they come to the sea in time?  But a\nfew more minutes would answer the question.\n\nAnd when at last the little party did break through the last of the\nscreening foliage, and the harbour and the ocean lay before them, they\nrealized that fate had been most cruelly unkind, for the Cowrie was\nalready under sail and moving slowly out of the mouth of the harbour\ninto the open sea.\n\nWhat were they to do?  Tarzan's broad chest rose and fell to the force\nof his pent emotions.  The last blow seemed to have fallen, and if ever\nin all his life Tarzan of the Apes had had occasion to abandon hope it\nwas now that he saw the ship bearing his wife to some frightful fate\nmoving gracefully over the rippling water, so very near and yet so\nhideously far away.\n\nIn silence he stood watching the vessel.  He saw it turn toward the\neast and finally disappear around a headland on its way he knew not\nwhither.  Then he dropped upon his haunches and buried his face in his\nhands.\n\nIt was after dark that the five men returned to the camp on the east\nshore.  The night was hot and sultry.  No slightest breeze ruffled the\nfoliage of the trees or rippled the mirror-like surface of the ocean.\nOnly a gentle swell rolled softly in upon the beach.\n\nNever had Tarzan seen the great Atlantic so ominously at peace.  He was\nstanding at the edge of the beach gazing out to sea in the direction of\nthe mainland, his mind filled with sorrow and hopelessness, when from\nthe jungle close behind the camp came the uncanny wail of a panther.\n\nThere was a familiar note in the weird cry, and almost mechanically\nTarzan turned his head and answered.  A moment later the tawny figure\nof Sheeta slunk out into the half-light of the beach.  There was no\nmoon, but the sky was brilliant with stars.  Silently the savage brute\ncame to the side of the man.  It had been long since Tarzan had seen\nhis old fighting companion, but the soft purr was sufficient to assure\nhim that the animal still recalled the bonds which had united them in\nthe past.\n\nThe ape-man let his fingers fall upon the beast's coat, and as Sheeta\npressed close against his leg he caressed and fondled the wicked head\nwhile his eyes continued to search the blackness of the waters.\n\nPresently he started.  What was that?  He strained his eyes into the\nnight.  Then he turned and called aloud to the men smoking upon their\nblankets in the camp.  They came running to his side; but Gust\nhesitated when he saw the nature of Tarzan's companion.\n\n\"Look!\" cried Tarzan.  \"A light!  A ship's light!  It must be the\nCowrie.  They are becalmed.\"  And then with an exclamation of renewed\nhope, \"We can reach them!  The skiff will carry us easily.\"\n\nGust demurred.  \"They are well armed,\" he warned.  \"We could not take\nthe ship--just five of us.\"\n\n\"There are six now,\" replied Tarzan, pointing to Sheeta, \"and we can\nhave more still in a half-hour.  Sheeta is the equivalent of twenty\nmen, and the few others I can bring will add full a hundred to our\nfighting strength.  You do not know them.\"\n\nThe ape-man turned and raised his head toward the jungle, while there\npealed from his lips, time after time, the fearsome cry of the bull-ape\nwho would summon his fellows.\n\nPresently from the jungle came an answering cry, and then another and\nanother.  Gust shuddered.  Among what sort of creatures had fate thrown\nhim?  Were not Kai Shang and Momulla to be preferred to this great\nwhite giant who stroked a panther and called to the beasts of the\njungle?\n\nIn a few minutes the apes of Akut came crashing through the underbrush\nand out upon the beach, while in the meantime the five men had been\nstruggling with the unwieldy bulk of the skiff's hull.\n\nBy dint of Herculean efforts they had managed to get it to the water's\nedge.  The oars from the two small boats of the Kincaid, which had been\nwashed away by an off-shore wind the very night that the party had\nlanded, had been in use to support the canvas of the sailcloth tents.\nThese were hastily requisitioned, and by the time Akut and his\nfollowers came down to the water all was ready for embarkation.\n\nOnce again the hideous crew entered the service of their master, and\nwithout question took up their places in the skiff.   The four men, for\nGust could not be prevailed upon to accompany the party, fell to the\noars, using them paddle-wise, while some of the apes followed their\nexample, and presently the ungainly skiff was moving quietly out to sea\nin the direction of the light which rose and fell gently with the swell.\n\nA sleepy sailor kept a poor vigil upon the Cowrie's deck, while in the\ncabin below Schneider paced up and down arguing with Jane Clayton.  The\nwoman had found a revolver in a table drawer in the room in which she\nhad been locked, and now she kept the mate of the Kincaid at bay with\nthe weapon.\n\nThe Mosula woman kneeled behind her, while Schneider paced up and down\nbefore the door, threatening and pleading and promising, but all to no\navail.  Presently from the deck above came a shout of warning and a\nshot.  For an instant Jane Clayton relaxed her vigilance, and turned\nher eyes toward the cabin skylight.  Simultaneously Schneider was upon\nher.\n\nThe first intimation the watch had that there was another craft within\na thousand miles of the Cowrie came when he saw the head and shoulders\nof a man poked over the ship's side.   Instantly the fellow sprang to\nhis feet with a cry and levelled his revolver at the intruder.  It was\nhis cry and the subsequent report of the revolver which threw Jane\nClayton off her guard.\n\nUpon deck the quiet of fancied security soon gave place to the wildest\npandemonium.  The crew of the Cowrie rushed above armed with revolvers,\ncutlasses, and the long knives that many of them habitually wore; but\nthe alarm had come too late.  Already the beasts of Tarzan were upon\nthe ship's deck, with Tarzan and the two men of the Kincaid's crew.\n\nIn the face of the frightful beasts the courage of the mutineers\nwavered and broke.  Those with revolvers fired a few scattering shots\nand then raced for some place of supposed safety.  Into the shrouds\nwent some; but the apes of Akut were more at home there than they.\n\nScreaming with terror the Maoris were dragged from their lofty perches.\nThe beasts, uncontrolled by Tarzan who had gone in search of Jane,\nloosed the full fury of their savage natures upon the unhappy\nwretches who fell into their clutches.\n\nSheeta, in the meanwhile, had felt his great fangs sink into but a\nsingle jugular.  For a moment he mauled the corpse, and then he spied\nKai Shang darting down the companionway toward his cabin.\n\nWith a shrill scream Sheeta was after him--a scream which awoke an\nalmost equally uncanny cry in the throat of the terror-stricken\nChinaman.\n\nBut Kai Shang reached his cabin a fraction of a second ahead of the\npanther, and leaping within slammed the door--just too late.  Sheeta's\ngreat body hurtled against it before the catch engaged, and a moment\nlater Kai Shang was gibbering and shrieking in the back of an upper\nberth.\n\nLightly Sheeta sprang after his victim, and presently the wicked days\nof Kai Shang of Fachan were ended, and Sheeta was gorging himself upon\ntough and stringy flesh.\n\nA moment scarcely had elapsed after Schneider leaped upon Jane Clayton\nand wrenched the revolver from her hand, when the door of the cabin\nopened and a tall and half-naked white man stood framed within the\nportal.\n\nSilently he leaped across the cabin.  Schneider felt sinewy fingers at\nhis throat.  He turned his head to see who had attacked him, and his\neyes went wide when he saw the face of the ape-man close above his own.\n\nGrimly the fingers tightened upon the mate's throat.  He tried to\nscream, to plead, but no sound came forth.  His eyes protruded as he\nstruggled for freedom, for breath, for life.\n\nJane Clayton seized her husband's hands and tried to drag them from the\nthroat of the dying man; but Tarzan only shook his head.\n\n\"Not again,\" he said quietly.  \"Before have I permitted scoundrels to\nlive, only to suffer and to have you suffer for my mercy.  This time we\nshall make sure of one scoundrel--sure that he will never again harm us\nor another,\" and with a sudden wrench he twisted the neck of the\nperfidious mate until there was a sharp crack, and the man's body lay\nlimp and motionless in the ape-man's grasp.  With a gesture of disgust\nTarzan tossed the corpse aside.  Then he returned to the deck, followed\nby Jane and the Mosula woman.\n\nThe battle there was over.  Schmidt and Momulla and two others alone\nremained alive of all the company of the Cowrie, for they had found\nsanctuary in the forecastle.  The others had died, horribly, and as\nthey deserved, beneath the fangs and talons of the beasts of Tarzan,\nand in the morning the sun rose on a grisly sight upon the deck of the\nunhappy Cowrie; but this time the blood which stained her white\nplanking was the blood of the guilty and not of the innocent.\n\nTarzan brought forth the men who had hidden in the forecastle, and\nwithout promises of immunity from punishment forced them to help work\nthe vessel--the only alternative was immediate death.\n\nA stiff breeze had risen with the sun, and with canvas spread the\nCowrie set in toward Jungle Island, where a few hours later, Tarzan\npicked up Gust and bid farewell to Sheeta and the apes of Akut, for\nhere he set the beasts ashore to pursue the wild and natural life they\nloved so well; nor did they lose a moment's time in disappearing into\nthe cool depths of their beloved jungle.\n\nThat they knew that Tarzan was to leave them may be doubted--except\npossibly in the case of the more intelligent Akut, who alone of all the\nothers remained upon the beach as the small boat drew away toward the\nschooner, carrying his savage lord and master from him.\n\nAnd as long as their eyes could span the distance, Jane and Tarzan,\nstanding upon the deck, saw the lonely figure of the shaggy anthropoid\nmotionless upon the surf-beaten sands of Jungle Island.\n\n\nIt was three days later that the Cowrie fell in with H.M. sloop-of-war\nShorewater, through whose wireless Lord Greystoke soon got in\ncommunication with London.  Thus he learned that which filled his and\nhis wife's heart with joy and thanksgiving--little Jack was safe at\nLord Greystoke's town house.\n\nIt was not until they reached London that they learned the details of\nthe remarkable chain of circumstances that had preserved the infant\nunharmed.\n\nIt developed that Rokoff, fearing to take the child aboard the Kincaid\nby day, had hidden it in a low den where nameless infants were\nharboured, intending to carry it to the steamer after dark.\n\nHis confederate and chief lieutenant, Paulvitch, true to the long years\nof teaching of his wily master, had at last succumbed to the treachery\nand greed that had always marked his superior, and, lured by the\nthoughts of the immense ransom that he might win by returning the child\nunharmed, had divulged the secret of its parentage to the woman who\nmaintained the foundling asylum.  Through her he had arranged for the\nsubstitution of another infant, knowing full well that never until it\nwas too late would Rokoff suspect the trick that had been played upon\nhim.\n\nThe woman had promised to keep the child until Paulvitch returned to\nEngland; but she, in turn, had been tempted to betray her trust by the\nlure of gold, and so had opened negotiations with Lord Greystoke's\nsolicitors for the return of the child.\n\nEsmeralda, the old Negro nurse whose absence on a vacation in America\nat the time of the abduction of little Jack had been attributed by her\nas the cause of the calamity, had returned and positively identified\nthe infant.\n\nThe ransom had been paid, and within ten days of the date of his\nkidnapping the future Lord Greystoke, none the worse for his\nexperience, had been returned to his father's home.\n\nAnd so that last and greatest of Nikolas Rokoff's many rascalities had\nnot only miserably miscarried through the treachery he had taught his\nonly friend, but it had resulted in the arch-villain's death, and given\nto Lord and Lady Greystoke a peace of mind that neither could ever have\nfelt so long as the vital spark remained in the body of the Russian and\nhis malign mind was free to formulate new atrocities against them.\n\nRokoff was dead, and while the fate of Paulvitch was unknown, they had\nevery reason to believe that he had succumbed to the dangers of the\njungle where last they had seen him--the malicious tool of his master.\n\nAnd thus, in so far as they might know, they were to be freed for ever\nfrom the menace of these two men--the only enemies which Tarzan of the\nApes ever had had occasion to fear, because they struck at him cowardly\nblows, through those he loved.\n\n\nIt was a happy family party that were reunited in Greystoke House the\nday that Lord Greystoke and his lady landed upon English soil from the\ndeck of the Shorewater.\n\nAccompanying them were Mugambi and the Mosula woman whom he had found\nin the bottom of the canoe that night upon the bank of the little\ntributary of the Ugambi.\n\nThe woman had preferred to cling to her new lord and master  rather\nthan return to the marriage she had tried to escape.\n\nTarzan had proposed to them that they might find a home upon his vast\nAfrican estates in the land of the Waziri, where they were to be sent\nas soon as opportunity presented itself.\n\nPossibly we shall see them all there amid the savage romance of the\ngrim jungle and the great plains where Tarzan of the Apes loves best to\nbe.\n\nWho knows?"