"'The Return Of Tarzan\n\n\nBy\n\nEdgar Rice Burroughs\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nCHAPTER\n\n I The Affair on the Liner\n II Forging Bonds of Hate and ----?\n III What Happened in the Rue Maule\n IV The Countess Explains\n V The Plot That Failed\n VI A Duel\n VII The Dancing Girl of Sidi Aissa\n VIII The Fight in the Desert\n IX Numa \"El Adrea\"\n X Through the Valley of the Shadow\n XI John Caldwell, London\n XII Ships That Pass\n XIII The Wreck of the \"Lady Alice\"\n XIV Back to the Primitive\n XV From Ape to Savage\n XVI The Ivory Raiders\n XVII The White Chief of the Waziri\n XVIII The Lottery of Death\n XIX The City of Gold\n XX La\n XXI The Castaways\n XXII The Treasure Vaults of Opar\n XXIII The Fifty Frightful Men\n XXIV How Tarzan Came Again to Opar\n XXV Through the Forest Primeval\n XXVI The Passing of the Ape-Man\n\n\n\n\nChapter I\n\nThe Affair on the Liner\n\n\n\"Magnifique!\" ejaculated the Countess de Coude, beneath her breath.\n\n\"Eh?\" questioned the count, turning toward his young wife. \"What is it\nthat is magnificent?\" and the count bent his eyes in various directions\nin quest of the object of her admiration.\n\n\"Oh, nothing at all, my dear,\" replied the countess, a slight flush\nmomentarily coloring her already pink cheek. \"I was but recalling with\nadmiration those stupendous skyscrapers, as they call them, of New\nYork,\" and the fair countess settled herself more comfortably in her\nsteamer chair, and resumed the magazine which \"nothing at all\" had\ncaused her to let fall upon her lap.\n\nHer husband again buried himself in his book, but not without a mild\nwonderment that three days out from New York his countess should\nsuddenly have realized an admiration for the very buildings she had but\nrecently characterized as horrid.\n\nPresently the count put down his book. \"It is very tiresome, Olga,\" he\nsaid. \"I think that I shall hunt up some others who may be equally\nbored, and see if we cannot find enough for a game of cards.\"\n\n\"You are not very gallant, my husband,\" replied the young woman,\nsmiling, \"but as I am equally bored I can forgive you. Go and play at\nyour tiresome old cards, then, if you will.\"\n\nWhen he had gone she let her eyes wander slyly to the figure of a tall\nyoung man stretched lazily in a chair not far distant.\n\n\"MAGNIFIQUE!\" she breathed once more.\n\nThe Countess Olga de Coude was twenty. Her husband forty. She was a\nvery faithful and loyal wife, but as she had had nothing whatever to do\nwith the selection of a husband, it is not at all unlikely that she was\nnot wildly and passionately in love with the one that fate and her\ntitled Russian father had selected for her. However, simply because\nshe was surprised into a tiny exclamation of approval at sight of a\nsplendid young stranger it must not be inferred therefrom that her\nthoughts were in any way disloyal to her spouse. She merely admired,\nas she might have admired a particularly fine specimen of any species.\nFurthermore, the young man was unquestionably good to look at.\n\nAs her furtive glance rested upon his profile he rose to leave the\ndeck. The Countess de Coude beckoned to a passing steward. \"Who is\nthat gentleman?\" she asked.\n\n\"He is booked, madam, as Monsieur Tarzan, of Africa,\" replied the\nsteward.\n\n\"Rather a large estate,\" thought the girl, but now her interest was\nstill further aroused.\n\nAs Tarzan walked slowly toward the smoking-room he came unexpectedly\nupon two men whispering excitedly just without. He would have\nvouchsafed them not even a passing thought but for the strangely guilty\nglance that one of them shot in his direction. They reminded Tarzan of\nmelodramatic villains he had seen at the theaters in Paris. Both were\nvery dark, and this, in connection with the shrugs and stealthy glances\nthat accompanied their palpable intriguing, lent still greater force to\nthe similarity.\n\nTarzan entered the smoking-room, and sought a chair a little apart from\nthe others who were there. He felt in no mood for conversation, and as\nhe sipped his absinth he let his mind run rather sorrowfully over the\npast few weeks of his life. Time and again he had wondered if he had\nacted wisely in renouncing his birthright to a man to whom he owed\nnothing. It is true that he liked Clayton, but--ah, but that was not\nthe question. It was not for William Cecil Clayton, Lord Greystoke,\nthat he had denied his birth. It was for the woman whom both he and\nClayton had loved, and whom a strange freak of fate had given to\nClayton instead of to him.\n\nThat she loved him made the thing doubly difficult to bear, yet he knew\nthat he could have done nothing less than he did do that night within\nthe little railway station in the far Wisconsin woods. To him her\nhappiness was the first consideration of all, and his brief experience\nwith civilization and civilized men had taught him that without money\nand position life to most of them was unendurable.\n\nJane Porter had been born to both, and had Tarzan taken them away from\nher future husband it would doubtless have plunged her into a life of\nmisery and torture. That she would have spurned Clayton once he had\nbeen stripped of both his title and his estates never for once occurred\nto Tarzan, for he credited to others the same honest loyalty that was\nso inherent a quality in himself. Nor, in this instance, had he erred.\nCould any one thing have further bound Jane Porter to her promise to\nClayton it would have been in the nature of some such misfortune as\nthis overtaking him.\n\nTarzan\'s thoughts drifted from the past to the future. He tried to\nlook forward with pleasurable sensations to his return to the jungle of\nhis birth and boyhood; the cruel, fierce jungle in which he had spent\ntwenty of his twenty-two years. But who or what of all the myriad\njungle life would there be to welcome his return? Not one. Only\nTantor, the elephant, could he call friend. The others would hunt him\nor flee from him as had been their way in the past.\n\nNot even the apes of his own tribe would extend the hand of fellowship\nto him.\n\nIf civilization had done nothing else for Tarzan of the Apes, it had to\nsome extent taught him to crave the society of his own kind, and to\nfeel with genuine pleasure the congenial warmth of companionship. And\nin the same ratio had it made any other life distasteful to him. It\nwas difficult to imagine a world without a friend--without a living\nthing who spoke the new tongues which Tarzan had learned to love so\nwell. And so it was that Tarzan looked with little relish upon the\nfuture he had mapped out for himself.\n\nAs he sat musing over his cigarette his eyes fell upon a mirror before\nhim, and in it he saw reflected a table at which four men sat at cards.\nPresently one of them rose to leave, and then another approached, and\nTarzan could see that he courteously offered to fill the vacant chair,\nthat the game might not be interrupted. He was the smaller of the two\nwhom Tarzan had seen whispering just outside the smoking-room.\n\nIt was this fact that aroused a faint spark of interest in Tarzan, and\nso as he speculated upon the future he watched in the mirror the\nreflection of the players at the table behind him. Aside from the man\nwho had but just entered the game Tarzan knew the name of but one of\nthe other players. It was he who sat opposite the new player, Count\nRaoul de Coude, whom an over-attentive steward had pointed out as one\nof the celebrities of the passage, describing him as a man high in the\nofficial family of the French minister of war.\n\nSuddenly Tarzan\'s attention was riveted upon the picture in the glass.\nThe other swarthy plotter had entered, and was standing behind the\ncount\'s chair. Tarzan saw him turn and glance furtively about the\nroom, but his eyes did not rest for a sufficient time upon the mirror\nto note the reflection of Tarzan\'s watchful eyes. Stealthily the man\nwithdrew something from his pocket. Tarzan could not discern what the\nobject was, for the man\'s hand covered it.\n\nSlowly the hand approached the count, and then, very deftly, the thing\nthat was in it was transferred to the count\'s pocket. The man remained\nstanding where he could watch the Frenchman\'s cards. Tarzan was\npuzzled, but he was all attention now, nor did he permit another detail\nof the incident to escape him.\n\nThe play went on for some ten minutes after this, until the count won a\nconsiderable wager from him who had last joined the game, and then\nTarzan saw the fellow back of the count\'s chair nod his head to his\nconfederate. Instantly the player arose and pointed a finger at the\ncount.\n\n\"Had I known that monsieur was a professional card sharp I had not been\nso ready to be drawn into the game,\" he said.\n\nInstantly the count and the two other players were upon their feet.\n\nDe Coude\'s face went white.\n\n\"What do you mean, sir?\" he cried. \"Do you know to whom you speak?\"\n\n\"I know that I speak, for the last time, to one who cheats at cards,\"\nreplied the fellow.\n\nThe count leaned across the table, and struck the man full in the mouth\nwith his open palm, and then the others closed in between them.\n\n\"There is some mistake, sir,\" cried one of the other players. \"Why,\nthis is Count de Coude, of France.\" \"If I am mistaken,\" said the\naccuser, \"I shall gladly apologize; but before I do so first let\nmonsieur le count explain the extra cards which I saw him drop into his\nside pocket.\"\n\nAnd then the man whom Tarzan had seen drop them there turned to sneak\nfrom the room, but to his annoyance he found the exit barred by a tall,\ngray-eyed stranger.\n\n\"Pardon,\" said the man brusquely, attempting to pass to one side.\n\n\"Wait,\" said Tarzan.\n\n\"But why, monsieur?\" exclaimed the other petulantly. \"Permit me to\npass, monsieur.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" said Tarzan. \"I think that there is a matter in here that you\nmay doubtless be able to explain.\"\n\nThe fellow had lost his temper by this time, and with a low oath seized\nTarzan to push him to one side. The ape-man but smiled as he twisted\nthe big fellow about and, grasping him by the collar of his coat,\nescorted him back to the table, struggling, cursing, and striking in\nfutile remonstrance. It was Nikolas Rokoff\'s first experience with the\nmuscles that had brought their savage owner victorious through\nencounters with Numa, the lion, and Terkoz, the great bull ape.\n\nThe man who had accused De Coude, and the two others who had been\nplaying, stood looking expectantly at the count. Several other\npassengers had drawn toward the scene of the altercation, and all\nawaited the denouement.\n\n\"The fellow is crazy,\" said the count. \"Gentlemen, I implore that one\nof you search me.\"\n\n\"The accusation is ridiculous.\" This from one of the players.\n\n\"You have but to slip your hand in the count\'s coat pocket and you will\nsee that the accusation is quite serious,\" insisted the accuser. And\nthen, as the others still hesitated to do so: \"Come, I shall do it\nmyself if no other will,\" and he stepped forward toward the count.\n\n\"No, monsieur,\" said De Coude. \"I will submit to a search only at the\nhands of a gentleman.\"\n\n\"It is unnecessary to search the count. The cards are in his pocket.\nI myself saw them placed there.\"\n\nAll turned in surprise toward this new speaker, to behold a very\nwell-built young man urging a resisting captive toward them by the\nscruff of his neck.\n\n\"It is a conspiracy,\" cried De Coude angrily. \"There are no cards in\nmy coat,\" and with that he ran his hand into his pocket. As he did so\ntense silence reigned in the little group. The count went dead white,\nand then very slowly he withdrew his hand, and in it were three cards.\n\nHe looked at them in mute and horrified surprise, and slowly the red of\nmortification suffused his face. Expressions of pity and contempt\ntinged the features of those who looked on at the death of a man\'s\nhonor.\n\n\"It is a conspiracy, monsieur.\" It was the gray-eyed stranger who\nspoke. \"Gentlemen,\" he continued, \"monsieur le count did not know that\nthose cards were in his pocket. They were placed there without his\nknowledge as he sat at play. From where I sat in that chair yonder I\nsaw the reflection of it all in the mirror before me. This person whom\nI just intercepted in an effort to escape placed the cards in the\ncount\'s pocket.\"\n\nDe Coude had glanced from Tarzan to the man in his grasp.\n\n\"MON DIEU, Nikolas!\" he cried. \"You?\"\n\nThen he turned to his accuser, and eyed him intently for a moment.\n\n\"And you, monsieur, I did not recognize you without your beard. It\nquite disguises you, Paulvitch. I see it all now. It is quite clear,\ngentlemen.\"\n\n\"What shall we do with them, monsieur?\" asked Tarzan. \"Turn them over\nto the captain?\"\n\n\"No, my friend,\" said the count hastily. \"It is a personal matter, and\nI beg that you will let it drop. It is sufficient that I have been\nexonerated from the charge. The less we have to do with such fellows,\nthe better. But, monsieur, how can I thank you for the great kindness\nyou have done me? Permit me to offer you my card, and should the time\ncome when I may serve you, remember that I am yours to command.\"\n\nTarzan had released Rokoff, who, with his confederate, Paulvitch, had\nhastened from the smoking-room. Just as he was leaving, Rokoff turned\nto Tarzan. \"Monsieur will have ample opportunity to regret his\ninterference in the affairs of others.\"\n\nTarzan smiled, and then, bowing to the count, handed him his own card.\n\nThe count read:\n\nM. JEAN C. TARZAN\n\n\n\"Monsieur Tarzan,\" he said, \"may indeed wish that he had never\nbefriended me, for I can assure him that he has won the enmity of two\nof the most unmitigated scoundrels in all Europe. Avoid them,\nmonsieur, by all means.\"\n\n\"I have had more awe-inspiring enemies, my dear count,\" replied Tarzan\nwith a quiet smile, \"yet I am still alive and unworried. I think that\nneither of these two will ever find the means to harm me.\"\n\n\"Let us hope not, monsieur,\" said De Coude; \"but yet it will do no harm\nto be on the alert, and to know that you have made at least one enemy\ntoday who never forgets and never forgives, and in whose malignant\nbrain there are always hatching new atrocities to perpetrate upon those\nwho have thwarted or offended him. To say that Nikolas Rokoff is a\ndevil would be to place a wanton affront upon his satanic majesty.\"\n\nThat night as Tarzan entered his cabin he found a folded note upon the\nfloor that had evidently been pushed beneath the door. He opened it\nand read:\n\nM. TARZAN:\n\nDoubtless you did not realize the gravity of your offense, or you would\nnot have done the thing you did today. I am willing to believe that\nyou acted in ignorance and without any intention to offend a stranger.\nFor this reason I shall gladly permit you to offer an apology, and on\nreceiving your assurances that you will not again interfere in affairs\nthat do not concern you, I shall drop the matter.\n\nOtherwise--but I am sure that you will see the wisdom of adopting the\ncourse I suggest.\n\n Very respectfully,\n NIKOLAS ROKOFF.\n\n\nTarzan permitted a grim smile to play about his lips for a moment, then\nhe promptly dropped the matter from his mind, and went to bed.\n\nIn a nearby cabin the Countess de Coude was speaking to her husband.\n\n\"Why so grave, my dear Raoul?\" she asked. \"You have been as glum as\ncould be all evening. What worries you?\"\n\n\"Olga, Nikolas is on board. Did you know it?\"\n\n\"Nikolas!\" she exclaimed. \"But it is impossible, Raoul. It cannot be.\nNikolas is under arrest in Germany.\"\n\n\"So I thought myself until I saw him today--him and that other arch\nscoundrel, Paulvitch. Olga, I cannot endure his persecution much\nlonger. No, not even for you. Sooner or later I shall turn him over\nto the authorities. In fact, I am half minded to explain all to the\ncaptain before we land. On a French liner it were an easy matter,\nOlga, permanently to settle this Nemesis of ours.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, Raoul!\" cried the countess, sinking to her knees before him as\nhe sat with bowed head upon a divan. \"Do not do that. Remember your\npromise to me. Tell me, Raoul, that you will not do that. Do not even\nthreaten him, Raoul.\"\n\nDe Coude took his wife\'s hands in his, and gazed upon her pale and\ntroubled countenance for some time before he spoke, as though he would\nwrest from those beautiful eyes the real reason which prompted her to\nshield this man.\n\n\"Let it be as you wish, Olga,\" he said at length. \"I cannot\nunderstand. He has forfeited all claim upon your love, loyalty, or\nrespect. He is a menace to your life and honor, and the life and honor\nof your husband. I trust you may never regret championing him.\"\n\n\"I do not champion him, Raoul,\" she interrupted vehemently. \"I believe\nthat I hate him as much as you do, but--Oh, Raoul, blood is thicker\nthan water.\"\n\n\"I should today have liked to sample the consistency of his,\" growled\nDe Coude grimly. \"The two deliberately attempted to besmirch my honor,\nOlga,\" and then he told her of all that had happened in the\nsmoking-room. \"Had it not been for this utter stranger, they had\nsucceeded, for who would have accepted my unsupported word against the\ndamning evidence of those cards hidden on my person? I had almost\nbegun to doubt myself when this Monsieur Tarzan dragged your precious\nNikolas before us, and explained the whole cowardly transaction.\"\n\n\"Monsieur Tarzan?\" asked the countess, in evident surprise.\n\n\"Yes. Do you know him, Olga?\"\n\n\"I have seen him. A steward pointed him out to me.\"\n\n\"I did not know that he was a celebrity,\" said the count.\n\nOlga de Coude changed the subject. She discovered suddenly that she\nmight find it difficult to explain just why the steward had pointed out\nthe handsome Monsieur Tarzan to her. Perhaps she flushed the least\nlittle bit, for was not the count, her husband, gazing at her with a\nstrangely quizzical expression. \"Ah,\" she thought, \"a guilty\nconscience is a most suspicious thing.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 2\n\nForging Bonds of Hate and ----?\n\n\nIt was not until late the following afternoon that Tarzan saw anything\nmore of the fellow passengers into the midst of whose affairs his love\nof fair play had thrust him. And then he came most unexpectedly upon\nRokoff and Paulvitch at a moment when of all others the two might least\nappreciate his company.\n\nThey were standing on deck at a point which was temporarily deserted,\nand as Tarzan came upon them they were in heated argument with a woman.\nTarzan noted that she was richly appareled, and that her slender,\nwell-modeled figure denoted youth; but as she was heavily veiled he\ncould not discern her features.\n\nThe men were standing on either side of her, and the backs of all were\ntoward Tarzan, so that he was quite close to them without their being\naware of his presence. He noticed that Rokoff seemed to be\nthreatening, the woman pleading; but they spoke in a strange tongue,\nand he could only guess from appearances that the girl was afraid.\n\nRokoff\'s attitude was so distinctly filled with the threat of physical\nviolence that the ape-man paused for an instant just behind the trio,\ninstinctively sensing an atmosphere of danger. Scarcely had he\nhesitated ere the man seized the woman roughly by the wrist, twisting\nit as though to wring a promise from her through torture. What would\nhave happened next had Rokoff had his way we may only conjecture, since\nhe did not have his way at all. Instead, steel fingers gripped his\nshoulder, and he was swung unceremoniously around, to meet the cold\ngray eyes of the stranger who had thwarted him on the previous day.\n\n\"SAPRISTI!\" screamed the infuriated Rokoff. \"What do you mean? Are\nyou a fool that you thus again insult Nikolas Rokoff?\"\n\n\"This is my answer to your note, monsieur,\" said Tarzan, in a low\nvoice. And then he hurled the fellow from him with such force that\nRokoff lunged sprawling against the rail.\n\n\"Name of a name!\" shrieked Rokoff. \"Pig, but you shall die for this,\"\nand, springing to his feet, he rushed upon Tarzan, tugging the\nmeanwhile to draw a revolver from his hip pocket. The girl shrank back\nin terror.\n\n\"Nikolas!\" she cried. \"Do not--oh, do not do that. Quick, monsieur,\nfly, or he will surely kill you!\" But instead of flying Tarzan\nadvanced to meet the fellow. \"Do not make a fool of yourself,\nmonsieur,\" he said.\n\nRokoff, who was in a perfect frenzy of rage at the humiliation the\nstranger had put upon him, had at last succeeded in drawing the\nrevolver. He had stopped, and now he deliberately raised it to\nTarzan\'s breast and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a futile\nclick on an empty chamber--the ape-man\'s hand shot out like the head of\nan angry python; there was a quick wrench, and the revolver sailed far\nout across the ship\'s rail, and dropped into the Atlantic.\n\nFor a moment the two men stood there facing one another. Rokoff had\nregained his self-possession. He was the first to speak.\n\n\"Twice now has monsieur seen fit to interfere in matters which do not\nconcern him. Twice he has taken it upon himself to humiliate Nikolas\nRokoff. The first offense was overlooked on the assumption that\nmonsieur acted through ignorance, but this affair shall not be\noverlooked. If monsieur does not know who Nikolas Rokoff is, this last\npiece of effrontery will insure that monsieur later has good reason to\nremember him.\"\n\n\"That you are a coward and a scoundrel, monsieur,\" replied Tarzan, \"is\nall that I care to know of you,\" and he turned to ask the girl if the\nman had hurt her, but she had disappeared. Then, without even a glance\ntoward Rokoff and his companion, he continued his stroll along the deck.\n\nTarzan could not but wonder what manner of conspiracy was on foot, or\nwhat the scheme of the two men might be. There had been something\nrather familiar about the appearance of the veiled woman to whose\nrescue he had just come, but as he had not seen her face he could not\nbe sure that he had ever seen her before. The only thing about her\nthat he had particularly noticed was a ring of peculiar workmanship\nupon a finger of the hand that Rokoff had seized, and he determined to\nnote the fingers of the women passengers he came upon thereafter, that\nhe might discover the identity of her whom Rokoff was persecuting, and\nlearn if the fellow had offered her further annoyance.\n\nTarzan had sought his deck chair, where he sat speculating on the\nnumerous instances of human cruelty, selfishness, and spite that had\nfallen to his lot to witness since that day in the jungle four years\nsince that his eyes had first fallen upon a human being other than\nhimself--the sleek, black Kulonga, whose swift spear had that day found\nthe vitals of Kala, the great she-ape, and robbed the youth, Tarzan, of\nthe only mother he had ever known.\n\nHe recalled the murder of King by the rat-faced Snipes; the abandonment\nof Professor Porter and his party by the mutineers of the ARROW; the\ncruelty of the black warriors and women of Mbonga to their captives;\nthe petty jealousies of the civil and military officers of the West\nCoast colony that had afforded him his first introduction to the\ncivilized world.\n\n\"MON DIEU!\" he soliloquized, \"but they are all alike. Cheating,\nmurdering, lying, fighting, and all for things that the beasts of the\njungle would not deign to possess--money to purchase the effeminate\npleasures of weaklings. And yet withal bound down by silly customs\nthat make them slaves to their unhappy lot while firm in the belief\nthat they be the lords of creation enjoying the only real pleasures of\nexistence. In the jungle one would scarcely stand supinely aside while\nanother took his mate. It is a silly world, an idiotic world, and\nTarzan of the Apes was a fool to renounce the freedom and the happiness\nof his jungle to come into it.\"\n\nPresently, as he sat there, the sudden feeling came over him that eyes\nwere watching from behind, and the old instinct of the wild beast broke\nthrough the thin veneer of civilization, so that Tarzan wheeled about\nso quickly that the eyes of the young woman who had been\nsurreptitiously regarding him had not even time to drop before the gray\neyes of the ape-man shot an inquiring look straight into them. Then,\nas they fell, Tarzan saw a faint wave of crimson creep swiftly over the\nnow half-averted face.\n\nHe smiled to himself at the result of his very uncivilized and\nungallant action, for he had not lowered his own eyes when they met\nthose of the young woman. She was very young, and equally good to look\nupon. Further, there was something rather familiar about her that set\nTarzan to wondering where he had seen her before. He resumed his\nformer position, and presently he was aware that she had arisen and was\nleaving the deck. As she passed, Tarzan turned to watch her, in the\nhope that he might discover a clew to satisfy his mild curiosity as to\nher identity.\n\nNor was he disappointed entirely, for as she walked away she raised one\nhand to the black, waving mass at the nape of her neck--the peculiarly\nfeminine gesture that admits cognizance of appraising eyes behind\nher--and Tarzan saw upon a finger of this hand the ring of strange\nworkmanship that he had seen upon the finger of the veiled woman a\nshort time before.\n\nSo it was this beautiful young woman Rokoff had been persecuting.\nTarzan wondered in a lazy sort of way whom she might be, and what\nrelations one so lovely could have with the surly, bearded Russian.\n\nAfter dinner that evening Tarzan strolled forward, where he remained\nuntil after dark, in conversation with the second officer, and when\nthat gentleman\'s duties called him elsewhere Tarzan lolled lazily by\nthe rail watching the play of the moonlight upon the gently rolling\nwaters. He was half hidden by a davit, so that two men who approached\nalong the deck did not see him, and as they passed Tarzan caught enough\nof their conversation to cause him to fall in behind them, to follow\nand learn what deviltry they were up to. He had recognized the voice\nas that of Rokoff, and had seen that his companion was Paulvitch.\n\nTarzan had overheard but a few words: \"And if she screams you may\nchoke her until--\" But those had been enough to arouse the spirit of\nadventure within him, and so he kept the two men in sight as they\nwalked, briskly now, along the deck. To the smoking-room he followed\nthem, but they merely halted at the doorway long enough, apparently, to\nassure themselves that one whose whereabouts they wished to establish\nwas within.\n\nThen they proceeded directly to the first-class cabins upon the\npromenade deck. Here Tarzan found greater difficulty in escaping\ndetection, but he managed to do so successfully. As they halted before\none of the polished hardwood doors, Tarzan slipped into the shadow of a\npassageway not a dozen feet from them.\n\nTo their knock a woman\'s voice asked in French: \"Who is it?\"\n\n\"It is I, Olga--Nikolas,\" was the answer, in Rokoff\'s now familiar\nguttural. \"May I come in?\"\n\n\"Why do you not cease persecuting me, Nikolas?\" came the voice of the\nwoman from beyond the thin panel. \"I have never harmed you.\"\n\n\"Come, come, Olga,\" urged the man, in propitiary tones; \"I but ask a\nhalf dozen words with you. I shall not harm you, nor shall I enter\nyour cabin; but I cannot shout my message through the door.\"\n\nTarzan heard the catch click as it was released from the inside. He\nstepped out from his hiding-place far enough to see what transpired\nwhen the door was opened, for he could not but recall the sinister\nwords he had heard a few moments before upon the deck, \"And if she\nscreams you may choke her.\"\n\nRokoff was standing directly in front of the door. Paulvitch had\nflattened himself against the paneled wall of the corridor beyond. The\ndoor opened. Rokoff half entered the room, and stood with his back\nagainst the door, speaking in a low whisper to the woman, whom Tarzan\ncould not see. Then Tarzan heard the woman\'s voice, level, but loud\nenough to distinguish her words.\n\n\"No, Nikolas,\" she was saying, \"it is useless. Threaten as you will, I\nshall never accede to your demands. Leave the room, please; you have\nno right here. You promised not to enter.\"\n\n\"Very well, Olga, I shall not enter; but before I am done with you, you\nshall wish a thousand times that you had done at once the favor I have\nasked. In the end I shall win anyway, so you might as well save\ntrouble and time for me, and disgrace for yourself and your--\"\n\n\"Never, Nikolas!\" interrupted the woman, and then Tarzan saw Rokoff\nturn and nod to Paulvitch, who sprang quickly toward the doorway of the\ncabin, rushing in past Rokoff, who held the door open for him. Then\nthe latter stepped quickly out. The door closed. Tarzan heard the\nclick of the lock as Paulvitch turned it from the inside. Rokoff\nremained standing before the door, with head bent, as though to catch\nthe words of the two within. A nasty smile curled his bearded lip.\n\nTarzan could hear the woman\'s voice commanding the fellow to leave her\ncabin. \"I shall send for my husband,\" she cried. \"He will show you no\nmercy.\"\n\nPaulvitch\'s sneering laugh came through the polished panels.\n\n\"The purser will fetch your husband, madame,\" said the man. \"In fact,\nthat officer has already been notified that you are entertaining a man\nother than your husband behind the locked door of your cabin.\"\n\n\"Bah!\" cried the woman. \"My husband will know!\"\n\n\"Most assuredly your husband will know, but the purser will not; nor\nwill the newspaper men who shall in some mysterious way hear of it on\nour landing. But they will think it a fine story, and so will all your\nfriends when they read of it at breakfast on--let me see, this is\nTuesday--yes, when they read of it at breakfast next Friday morning.\nNor will it detract from the interest they will all feel when they\nlearn that the man whom madame entertained is a Russian servant--her\nbrother\'s valet, to be quite exact.\"\n\n\"Alexis Paulvitch,\" came the woman\'s voice, cold and fearless, \"you are\na coward, and when I whisper a certain name in your ear you will think\nbetter of your demands upon me and your threats against me, and then\nyou will leave my cabin quickly, nor do I think that ever again will\nyou, at least, annoy me,\" and there came a moment\'s silence in which\nTarzan could imagine the woman leaning toward the scoundrel and\nwhispering the thing she had hinted at into his ear. Only a moment of\nsilence, and then a startled oath from the man--the scuffling of\nfeet--a woman\'s scream--and silence.\n\nBut scarcely had the cry ceased before the ape-man had leaped from his\nhiding-place. Rokoff started to run, but Tarzan grasped him by the\ncollar and dragged him back. Neither spoke, for both felt\ninstinctively that murder was being done in that room, and Tarzan was\nconfident that Rokoff had had no intention that his confederate should\ngo that far--he felt that the man\'s aims were deeper than that--deeper\nand even more sinister than brutal, cold-blooded murder. Without\nhesitating to question those within, the ape-man threw his giant\nshoulder against the frail panel, and in a shower of splintered wood he\nentered the cabin, dragging Rokoff after him. Before him, on a couch,\nthe woman lay, and on top of her was Paulvitch, his fingers gripping\nthe fair throat, while his victim\'s hands beat futilely at his face,\ntearing desperately at the cruel fingers that were forcing the life\nfrom her.\n\nThe noise of his entrance brought Paulvitch to his feet, where he stood\nglowering menacingly at Tarzan. The girl rose falteringly to a sitting\nposture upon the couch. One hand was at her throat, and her breath\ncame in little gasps. Although disheveled and very pale, Tarzan\nrecognized her as the young woman whom he had caught staring at him on\ndeck earlier in the day.\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" said Tarzan, turning to Rokoff, whom he\nintuitively singled out as the instigator of the outrage. The man\nremained silent, scowling. \"Touch the button, please,\" continued the\nape-man; \"we will have one of the ship\'s officers here--this affair has\ngone quite far enough.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" cried the girl, coming suddenly to her feet. \"Please do not\ndo that. I am sure that there was no real intention to harm me. I\nangered this person, and he lost control of himself, that is all. I\nwould not care to have the matter go further, please, monsieur,\" and\nthere was such a note of pleading in her voice that Tarzan could not\npress the matter, though his better judgment warned him that there was\nsomething afoot here of which the proper authorities should be made\ncognizant.\n\n\"You wish me to do nothing, then, in the matter?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nothing, please,\" she replied.\n\n\"You are content that these two scoundrels should continue persecuting\nyou?\"\n\nShe did not seem to know what answer to make, and looked very troubled\nand unhappy. Tarzan saw a malicious grin of triumph curl Rokoff\'s lip.\nThe girl evidently was in fear of these two--she dared not express her\nreal desires before them.\n\n\"Then,\" said Tarzan, \"I shall act on my own responsibility. To you,\"\nhe continued, turning to Rokoff, \"and this includes your accomplice, I\nmay say that from now on to the end of the voyage I shall take it upon\nmyself to keep an eye on you, and should there chance to come to my\nnotice any act of either one of you that might even remotely annoy this\nyoung woman you shall be called to account for it directly to me, nor\nshall the calling or the accounting be pleasant experiences for either\nof you.\n\n\"Now get out of here,\" and he grabbed Rokoff and Paulvitch each by the\nscruff of the neck and thrust them forcibly through the doorway, giving\neach an added impetus down the corridor with the toe of his boot. Then\nhe turned back to the stateroom and the girl. She was looking at him\nin wide-eyed astonishment.\n\n\"And you, madame, will confer a great favor upon me if you will but let\nme know if either of those rascals troubles you further.\"\n\n\"Ah, monsieur,\" she answered, \"I hope that you will not suffer for the\nkind deed you attempted. You have made a very wicked and resourceful\nenemy, who will stop at nothing to satisfy his hatred. You must be\nvery careful indeed, Monsieur--\"\n\n\"Pardon me, madame, my name is Tarzan.\"\n\n\"Monsieur Tarzan. And because I would not consent to notify the\nofficers, do not think that I am not sincerely grateful to you for the\nbrave and chivalrous protection you rendered me. Good night, Monsieur\nTarzan. I shall never forget the debt I owe you,\" and, with a most\nwinsome smile that displayed a row of perfect teeth, the girl curtsied\nto Tarzan, who bade her good night and made his way on deck.\n\nIt puzzled the man considerably that there should be two on board--this\ngirl and Count de Coude--who suffered indignities at the hands of\nRokoff and his companion, and yet would not permit the offenders to be\nbrought to justice. Before he turned in that night his thoughts\nreverted many times to the beautiful young woman into the evidently\ntangled web of whose life fate had so strangely introduced him. It\noccurred to him that he had not learned her name. That she was married\nhad been evidenced by the narrow gold band that encircled the third\nfinger of her left hand. Involuntarily he wondered who the lucky man\nmight be.\n\nTarzan saw nothing further of any of the actors in the little drama\nthat he had caught a fleeting glimpse of until late in the afternoon of\nthe last day of the voyage. Then he came suddenly face to face with\nthe young woman as the two approached their deck chairs from opposite\ndirections. She greeted him with a pleasant smile, speaking almost\nimmediately of the affair he had witnessed in her cabin two nights\nbefore. It was as though she had been perturbed by a conviction that\nhe might have construed her acquaintance with such men as Rokoff and\nPaulvitch as a personal reflection upon herself.\n\n\"I trust monsieur has not judged me,\" she said, \"by the unfortunate\noccurrence of Tuesday evening. I have suffered much on account of\nit--this is the first time that I have ventured from my cabin since; I\nhave been ashamed,\" she concluded simply.\n\n\"One does not judge the gazelle by the lions that attack it,\" replied\nTarzan. \"I had seen those two work before--in the smoking-room the day\nprior to their attack on you, if I recollect it correctly, and so,\nknowing their methods, I am convinced that their enmity is a sufficient\nguarantee of the integrity of its object. Men such as they must cleave\nonly to the vile, hating all that is noblest and best.\"\n\n\"It is very kind of you to put it that way,\" she replied, smiling. \"I\nhave already heard of the matter of the card game. My husband told me\nthe entire story. He spoke especially of the strength and bravery of\nMonsieur Tarzan, to whom he feels that he owes an immense debt of\ngratitude.\"\n\n\"Your husband?\" repeated Tarzan questioningly.\n\n\"Yes. I am the Countess de Coude.\"\n\n\"I am already amply repaid, madame, in knowing that I have rendered a\nservice to the wife of the Count de Coude.\"\n\n\"Alas, monsieur, I already am so greatly indebted to you that I may\nnever hope to settle my own account, so pray do not add further to my\nobligations,\" and she smiled so sweetly upon him that Tarzan felt that\na man might easily attempt much greater things than he had\naccomplished, solely for the pleasure of receiving the benediction of\nthat smile.\n\nHe did not see her again that day, and in the rush of landing on the\nfollowing morning he missed her entirely, but there had been something\nin the expression of her eyes as they parted on deck the previous day\nthat haunted him. It had been almost wistful as they had spoken of the\nstrangeness of the swift friendships of an ocean crossing, and of the\nequal ease with which they are broken forever.\n\nTarzan wondered if he should ever see her again.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 3\n\nWhat Happened in the Rue Maule\n\n\nOn his arrival in Paris, Tarzan had gone directly to the apartments of\nhis old friend, D\'Arnot, where the naval lieutenant had scored him\nroundly for his decision to renounce the title and estates that were\nrightly his from his father, John Clayton, the late Lord Greystoke.\n\n\"You must be mad, my friend,\" said D\'Arnot, \"thus lightly to give up\nnot alone wealth and position, but an opportunity to prove beyond doubt\nto all the world that in your veins flows the noble blood of two of\nEngland\'s most honored houses--instead of the blood of a savage\nshe-ape. It is incredible that they could have believed you--Miss\nPorter least of all.\n\n\"Why, I never did believe it, even back in the wilds of your African\njungle, when you tore the raw meat of your kills with mighty jaws, like\nsome wild beast, and wiped your greasy hands upon your thighs. Even\nthen, before there was the slightest proof to the contrary, I knew that\nyou were mistaken in the belief that Kala was your mother.\n\n\"And now, with your father\'s diary of the terrible life led by him and\nyour mother on that wild African shore; with the account of your birth,\nand, final and most convincing proof of all, your own baby finger\nprints upon the pages of it, it seems incredible to me that you are\nwilling to remain a nameless, penniless vagabond.\"\n\n\"I do not need any better name than Tarzan,\" replied the ape-man; \"and\nas for remaining a penniless vagabond, I have no intention of so doing.\nIn fact, the next, and let us hope the last, burden that I shall be\nforced to put upon your unselfish friendship will be the finding of\nemployment for me.\"\n\n\"Pooh, pooh!\" scoffed D\'Arnot. \"You know that I did not mean that.\nHave I not told you a dozen times that I have enough for twenty men,\nand that half of what I have is yours? And if I gave it all to you,\nwould it represent even the tenth part of the value I place upon your\nfriendship, my Tarzan? Would it repay the services you did me in\nAfrica? I do not forget, my friend, that but for you and your wondrous\nbravery I had died at the stake in the village of Mbonga\'s cannibals.\nNor do I forget that to your self-sacrificing devotion I owe the fact\nthat I recovered from the terrible wounds I received at their hands--I\ndiscovered later something of what it meant to you to remain with me in\nthe amphitheater of apes while your heart was urging you on to the\ncoast.\n\n\"When we finally came there, and found that Miss Porter and her party\nhad left, I commenced to realize something of what you had done for an\nutter stranger. Nor am I trying to repay you with money, Tarzan. It\nis that just at present you need money; were it sacrifice that I might\noffer you it were the same--my friendship must always be yours, because\nour tastes are similar, and I admire you. That I cannot command, but\nthe money I can and shall.\"\n\n\"Well,\" laughed Tarzan, \"we shall not quarrel over the money. I must\nlive, and so I must have it; but I shall be more contented with\nsomething to do. You cannot show me your friendship in a more\nconvincing manner than to find employment for me--I shall die of\ninactivity in a short while. As for my birthright--it is in good\nhands. Clayton is not guilty of robbing me of it. He truly believes\nthat he is the real Lord Greystoke, and the chances are that he will\nmake a better English lord than a man who was born and raised in an\nAfrican jungle. You know that I am but half civilized even now. Let\nme see red in anger but for a moment, and all the instincts of the\nsavage beast that I really am, submerge what little I possess of the\nmilder ways of culture and refinement.\n\n\"And then again, had I declared myself I should have robbed the woman I\nlove of the wealth and position that her marriage to Clayton will now\ninsure to her. I could not have done that--could I, Paul?\n\n\"Nor is the matter of birth of great importance to me,\" he went on,\nwithout waiting for a reply. \"Raised as I have been, I see no worth in\nman or beast that is not theirs by virtue of their own mental or\nphysical prowess. And so I am as happy to think of Kala as my mother\nas I would be to try to picture the poor, unhappy little English girl\nwho passed away a year after she bore me. Kala was always kind to me\nin her fierce and savage way. I must have nursed at her hairy breast\nfrom the time that my own mother died. She fought for me against the\nwild denizens of the forest, and against the savage members of our\ntribe, with the ferocity of real mother love.\n\n\"And I, on my part, loved her, Paul. I did not realize how much until\nafter the cruel spear and the poisoned arrow of Mbonga\'s black warrior\nhad stolen her away from me. I was still a child when that occurred,\nand I threw myself upon her dead body and wept out my anguish as a\nchild might for his own mother. To you, my friend, she would have\nappeared a hideous and ugly creature, but to me she was beautiful--so\ngloriously does love transfigure its object. And so I am perfectly\ncontent to remain forever the son of Kala, the she-ape.\"\n\n\"I do not admire you the less for your loyalty,\" said D\'Arnot, \"but the\ntime will come when you will be glad to claim your own. Remember what\nI say, and let us hope that it will be as easy then as it is now. You\nmust bear in mind that Professor Porter and Mr. Philander are the only\npeople in the world who can swear that the little skeleton found in the\ncabin with those of your father and mother was that of an infant\nanthropoid ape, and not the offspring of Lord and Lady Greystoke. That\nevidence is most important. They are both old men. They may not live\nmany years longer. And then, did it not occur to you that once Miss\nPorter knew the truth she would break her engagement with Clayton? You\nmight easily have your title, your estates, and the woman you love,\nTarzan. Had you not thought of that?\"\n\nTarzan shook his head. \"You do not know her,\" he said. \"Nothing could\nbind her closer to her bargain than some misfortune to Clayton. She is\nfrom an old southern family in America, and southerners pride\nthemselves upon their loyalty.\"\n\nTarzan spent the two following weeks renewing his former brief\nacquaintance with Paris. In the daytime he haunted the libraries and\npicture galleries. He had become an omnivorous reader, and the world\nof possibilities that were opened to him in this seat of culture and\nlearning fairly appalled him when he contemplated the very\ninfinitesimal crumb of the sum total of human knowledge that a single\nindividual might hope to acquire even after a lifetime of study and\nresearch; but he learned what he could by day, and threw himself into a\nsearch for relaxation and amusement at night. Nor did he find Paris a\nwhit less fertile field for his nocturnal avocation.\n\nIf he smoked too many cigarettes and drank too much absinth it was\nbecause he took civilization as he found it, and did the things that he\nfound his civilized brothers doing. The life was a new and alluring\none, and in addition he had a sorrow in his breast and a great longing\nwhich he knew could never be fulfilled, and so he sought in study and\nin dissipation--the two extremes--to forget the past and inhibit\ncontemplation of the future.\n\nHe was sitting in a music hall one evening, sipping his absinth and\nadmiring the art of a certain famous Russian dancer, when he caught a\npassing glimpse of a pair of evil black eyes upon him. The man turned\nand was lost in the crowd at the exit before Tarzan could catch a good\nlook at him, but he was confident that he had seen those eyes before\nand that they had been fastened on him this evening through no passing\naccident. He had had the uncanny feeling for some time that he was\nbeing watched, and it was in response to this animal instinct that was\nstrong within him that he had turned suddenly and surprised the eyes in\nthe very act of watching him.\n\nBefore he left the music hall the matter had been forgotten, nor did he\nnotice the swarthy individual who stepped deeper into the shadows of an\nopposite doorway as Tarzan emerged from the brilliantly lighted\namusement hall.\n\nHad Tarzan but known it, he had been followed many times from this and\nother places of amusement, but seldom if ever had he been alone.\nTonight D\'Arnot had had another engagement, and Tarzan had come by\nhimself.\n\nAs he turned in the direction he was accustomed to taking from this\npart of Paris to his apartments, the watcher across the street ran from\nhis hiding-place and hurried on ahead at a rapid pace.\n\nTarzan had been wont to traverse the Rue Maule on his way home at\nnight. Because it was very quiet and very dark it reminded him more of\nhis beloved African jungle than did the noisy and garish streets\nsurrounding it. If you are familiar with your Paris you will recall\nthe narrow, forbidding precincts of the Rue Maule. If you are not, you\nneed but ask the police about it to learn that in all Paris there is no\nstreet to which you should give a wider berth after dark.\n\nOn this night Tarzan had proceeded some two squares through the dense\nshadows of the squalid old tenements which line this dismal way when he\nwas attracted by screams and cries for help from the third floor of an\nopposite building. The voice was a woman\'s. Before the echoes of her\nfirst cries had died Tarzan was bounding up the stairs and through the\ndark corridors to her rescue.\n\nAt the end of the corridor on the third landing a door stood slightly\najar, and from within Tarzan heard again the same appeal that had lured\nhim from the street. Another instant found him in the center of a\ndimly-lighted room. An oil lamp burned upon a high, old-fashioned\nmantel, casting its dim rays over a dozen repulsive figures. All but\none were men. The other was a woman of about thirty. Her face, marked\nby low passions and dissipation, might once have been lovely. She\nstood with one hand at her throat, crouching against the farther wall.\n\n\"Help, monsieur,\" she cried in a low voice as Tarzan entered the room;\n\"they were killing me.\"\n\nAs Tarzan turned toward the men about him he saw the crafty, evil faces\nof habitual criminals. He wondered that they had made no effort to\nescape. A movement behind him caused him to turn. Two things his eyes\nsaw, and one of them caused him considerable wonderment. A man was\nsneaking stealthily from the room, and in the brief glance that Tarzan\nhad of him he saw that it was Rokoff. But the other thing that he saw\nwas of more immediate interest. It was a great brute of a fellow\ntiptoeing upon him from behind with a huge bludgeon in his hand, and\nthen, as the man and his confederates saw that he was discovered, there\nwas a concerted rush upon Tarzan from all sides. Some of the men drew\nknives. Others picked up chairs, while the fellow with the bludgeon\nraised it high above his head in a mighty swing that would have crushed\nTarzan\'s head had it ever descended upon it.\n\nBut the brain, and the agility, and the muscles that had coped with the\nmighty strength and cruel craftiness of Terkoz and Numa in the fastness\nof their savage jungle were not to be so easily subdued as these\napaches of Paris had believed.\n\nSelecting his most formidable antagonist, the fellow with the bludgeon,\nTarzan charged full upon him, dodging the falling weapon, and catching\nthe man a terrific blow on the point of the chin that felled him in his\ntracks.\n\nThen he turned upon the others. This was sport. He was reveling in\nthe joy of battle and the lust of blood. As though it had been but a\nbrittle shell, to break at the least rough usage, the thin veneer of\nhis civilization fell from him, and the ten burly villains found\nthemselves penned in a small room with a wild and savage beast, against\nwhose steel muscles their puny strength was less than futile.\n\nAt the end of the corridor without stood Rokoff, waiting the outcome of\nthe affair. He wished to be sure that Tarzan was dead before he left,\nbut it was not a part of his plan to be one of those within the room\nwhen the murder occurred.\n\nThe woman still stood where she had when Tarzan entered, but her face\nhad undergone a number of changes with the few minutes which had\nelapsed. From the semblance of distress which it had worn when Tarzan\nfirst saw it, it had changed to one of craftiness as he had wheeled to\nmeet the attack from behind; but the change Tarzan had not seen.\n\nLater an expression of surprise and then one of horror superseded the\nothers. And who may wonder. For the immaculate gentleman her cries\nhad lured to what was to have been his death had been suddenly\nmetamorphosed into a demon of revenge. Instead of soft muscles and a\nweak resistance, she was looking upon a veritable Hercules gone mad.\n\n\"MON DIEU!\" she cried; \"he is a beast!\" For the strong, white teeth of\nthe ape-man had found the throat of one of his assailants, and Tarzan\nfought as he had learned to fight with the great bull apes of the tribe\nof Kerchak.\n\nHe was in a dozen places at once, leaping hither and thither about the\nroom in sinuous bounds that reminded the woman of a panther she had\nseen at the zoo. Now a wrist-bone snapped in his iron grip, now a\nshoulder was wrenched from its socket as he forced a victim\'s arm\nbackward and upward.\n\nWith shrieks of pain the men escaped into the hallway as quickly as\nthey could; but even before the first one staggered, bleeding and\nbroken, from the room, Rokoff had seen enough to convince him that\nTarzan would not be the one to lie dead in that house this night, and\nso the Russian had hastened to a nearby den and telephoned the police\nthat a man was committing murder on the third floor of Rue Maule, 27.\nWhen the officers arrived they found three men groaning on the floor, a\nfrightened woman lying upon a filthy bed, her face buried in her arms,\nand what appeared to be a well-dressed young gentleman standing in the\ncenter of the room awaiting the reenforcements which he had thought the\nfootsteps of the officers hurrying up the stairway had announced--but\nthey were mistaken in the last; it was a wild beast that looked upon\nthem through those narrowed lids and steel-gray eyes. With the smell\nof blood the last vestige of civilization had deserted Tarzan, and now\nhe stood at bay, like a lion surrounded by hunters, awaiting the next\novert act, and crouching to charge its author.\n\n\"What has happened here?\" asked one of the policemen.\n\nTarzan explained briefly, but when he turned to the woman for\nconfirmation of his statement he was appalled by her reply.\n\n\"He lies!\" she screamed shrilly, addressing the policeman. \"He came to\nmy room while I was alone, and for no good purpose. When I repulsed\nhim he would have killed me had not my screams attracted these\ngentlemen, who were passing the house at the time. He is a devil,\nmonsieurs; alone he has all but killed ten men with his bare hands and\nhis teeth.\"\n\nSo shocked was Tarzan by her ingratitude that for a moment he was\nstruck dumb. The police were inclined to be a little skeptical, for\nthey had had other dealings with this same lady and her lovely coterie\nof gentlemen friends. However, they were policemen, not judges, so\nthey decided to place all the inmates of the room under arrest, and let\nanother, whose business it was, separate the innocent from the guilty.\n\nBut they found that it was one thing to tell this well-dressed young\nman that he was under arrest, but quite another to enforce it.\n\n\"I am guilty of no offense,\" he said quietly. \"I have but sought to\ndefend myself. I do not know why the woman has told you what she has.\nShe can have no enmity against me, for never until I came to this room\nin response to her cries for help had I seen her.\"\n\n\"Come, come,\" said one of the officers; \"there are judges to listen to\nall that,\" and he advanced to lay his hand upon Tarzan\'s shoulder. An\ninstant later he lay crumpled in a corner of the room, and then, as his\ncomrades rushed in upon the ape-man, they experienced a taste of what\nthe apaches had but recently gone through. So quickly and so roughly\ndid he handle them that they had not even an opportunity to draw their\nrevolvers.\n\nDuring the brief fight Tarzan had noted the open window and, beyond,\nthe stem of a tree, or a telegraph pole--he could not tell which. As\nthe last officer went down, one of his fellows succeeded in drawing his\nrevolver and, from where he lay on the floor, fired at Tarzan. The\nshot missed, and before the man could fire again Tarzan had swept the\nlamp from the mantel and plunged the room into darkness.\n\nThe next they saw was a lithe form spring to the sill of the open\nwindow and leap, panther-like, onto the pole across the walk. When the\npolice gathered themselves together and reached the street their\nprisoner was nowhere to be seen.\n\nThey did not handle the woman and the men who had not escaped any too\ngently when they took them to the station; they were a very sore and\nhumiliated detail of police. It galled them to think that it would be\nnecessary to report that a single unarmed man had wiped the floor with\nthe whole lot of them, and then escaped them as easily as though they\nhad not existed.\n\nThe officer who had remained in the street swore that no one had leaped\nfrom the window or left the building from the time they entered until\nthey had come out. His comrades thought that he lied, but they could\nnot prove it.\n\nWhen Tarzan found himself clinging to the pole outside the window, he\nfollowed his jungle instinct and looked below for enemies before he\nventured down. It was well he did, for just beneath stood a policeman.\nAbove, Tarzan saw no one, so he went up instead of down.\n\nThe top of the pole was opposite the roof of the building, so it was\nbut the work of an instant for the muscles that had for years sent him\nhurtling through the treetops of his primeval forest to carry him\nacross the little space between the pole and the roof. From one\nbuilding he went to another, and so on, with much climbing, until at a\ncross street he discovered another pole, down which he ran to the\nground.\n\nFor a square or two he ran swiftly; then he turned into a little\nall-night cafe and in the lavatory removed the evidences of his\nover-roof promenade from hands and clothes. When he emerged a few\nmoments later it was to saunter slowly on toward his apartments.\n\nNot far from them he came to a well-lighted boulevard which it was\nnecessary to cross. As he stood directly beneath a brilliant arc\nlight, waiting for a limousine that was approaching to pass him, he\nheard his name called in a sweet feminine voice. Looking up, he met\nthe smiling eyes of Olga de Coude as she leaned forward upon the back\nseat of the machine. He bowed very low in response to her friendly\ngreeting. When he straightened up the machine had borne her away.\n\n\"Rokoff and the Countess de Coude both in the same evening,\" he\nsoliloquized; \"Paris is not so large, after all.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 4\n\nThe Countess Explains\n\n\n\"Your Paris is more dangerous than my savage jungles, Paul,\" concluded\nTarzan, after narrating his adventures to his friend the morning\nfollowing his encounter with the apaches and police in the Rue Maule.\n\"Why did they lure me there? Were they hungry?\"\n\nD\'Arnot feigned a horrified shudder, but he laughed at the quaint\nsuggestion.\n\n\"It is difficult to rise above the jungle standards and reason by the\nlight of civilized ways, is it not, my friend?\" he queried banteringly.\n\n\"Civilized ways, forsooth,\" scoffed Tarzan. \"Jungle standards do not\ncountenance wanton atrocities. There we kill for food and for\nself-preservation, or in the winning of mates and the protection of the\nyoung. Always, you see, in accordance with the dictates of some great\nnatural law. But here! Faugh, your civilized man is more brutal than\nthe brutes. He kills wantonly, and, worse than that, he utilizes a\nnoble sentiment, the brotherhood of man, as a lure to entice his unwary\nvictim to his doom. It was in answer to an appeal from a fellow being\nthat I hastened to that room where the assassins lay in wait for me.\n\n\"I did not realize, I could not realize for a long time afterward, that\nany woman could sink to such moral depravity as that one must have to\ncall a would-be rescuer to death. But it must have been so--the sight\nof Rokoff there and the woman\'s later repudiation of me to the police\nmake it impossible to place any other construction upon her acts.\nRokoff must have known that I frequently passed through the Rue Maule.\nHe lay in wait for me--his entire scheme worked out to the last detail,\neven to the woman\'s story in case a hitch should occur in the program\nsuch as really did happen. It is all perfectly plain to me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said D\'Arnot, \"among other things, it has taught you what I\nhave been unable to impress upon you--that the Rue Maule is a good\nplace to avoid after dark.\"\n\n\"On the contrary,\" replied Tarzan, with a smile, \"it has convinced me\nthat it is the one worth-while street in all Paris. Never again shall\nI miss an opportunity to traverse it, for it has given me the first\nreal entertainment I have had since I left Africa.\"\n\n\"It may give you more than you will relish even without another visit,\"\nsaid D\'Arnot. \"You are not through with the police yet, remember. I\nknow the Paris police well enough to assure you that they will not soon\nforget what you did to them. Sooner or later they will get you, my\ndear Tarzan, and then they will lock the wild man of the woods up\nbehind iron bars. How will you like that?\"\n\n\"They will never lock Tarzan of the Apes behind iron bars,\" replied he,\ngrimly.\n\nThere was something in the man\'s voice as he said it that caused\nD\'Arnot to look up sharply at his friend. What he saw in the set jaw\nand the cold, gray eyes made the young Frenchman very apprehensive for\nthis great child, who could recognize no law mightier than his own\nmighty physical prowess. He saw that something must be done to set\nTarzan right with the police before another encounter was possible.\n\n\"You have much to learn, Tarzan,\" he said gravely. \"The law of man\nmust be respected, whether you relish it or no. Nothing but trouble\ncan come to you and your friends should you persist in defying the\npolice. I can explain it to them once for you, and that I shall do\nthis very day, but hereafter you must obey the law. If its\nrepresentatives say \'Come,\' you must come; if they say \'Go,\' you must\ngo. Now we shall go to my great friend in the department and fix up\nthis matter of the Rue Maule. Come!\"\n\nTogether they entered the office of the police official a half hour\nlater. He was very cordial. He remembered Tarzan from the visit the\ntwo had made him several months prior in the matter of finger prints.\n\nWhen D\'Arnot had concluded the narration of the events which had\ntranspired the previous evening, a grim smile was playing about the\nlips of the policeman. He touched a button near his hand, and as he\nwaited for the clerk to respond to its summons he searched through the\npapers on his desk for one which he finally located.\n\n\"Here, Joubon,\" he said as the clerk entered. \"Summon these\nofficers--have them come to me at once,\" and he handed the man the\npaper he had sought. Then he turned to Tarzan.\n\n\"You have committed a very grave offense, monsieur,\" he said, not\nunkindly, \"and but for the explanation made by our good friend here I\nshould be inclined to judge you harshly. I am, instead, about to do a\nrather unheard-of-thing. I have summoned the officers whom you\nmaltreated last night. They shall hear Lieutenant D\'Arnot\'s story, and\nthen I shall leave it to their discretion to say whether you shall be\nprosecuted or not.\n\n\"You have much to learn about the ways of civilization. Things that\nseem strange or unnecessary to you, you must learn to accept until you\nare able to judge the motives behind them. The officers whom you\nattacked were but doing their duty. They had no discretion in the\nmatter. Every day they risk their lives in the protection of the lives\nor property of others. They would do the same for you. They are very\nbrave men, and they are deeply mortified that a single unarmed man\nbested and beat them.\n\n\"Make it easy for them to overlook what you did. Unless I am gravely\nin error you are yourself a very brave man, and brave men are\nproverbially magnanimous.\"\n\nFurther conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the four\npolicemen. As their eyes fell on Tarzan, surprise was writ large on\neach countenance.\n\n\"My children,\" said the official, \"here is the gentleman whom you met\nin the Rue Maule last evening. He has come voluntarily to give himself\nup. I wish you to listen attentively to Lieutenant D\'Arnot, who will\ntell you a part of the story of monsieur\'s life. It may explain his\nattitude toward you of last night. Proceed, my dear lieutenant.\"\n\nD\'Arnot spoke to the policemen for half an hour. He told them\nsomething of Tarzan\'s wild jungle life. He explained the savage\ntraining that had taught him to battle like a wild beast in\nself-preservation. It became plain to them that the man had been\nguided by instinct rather than reason in his attack upon them. He had\nnot understood their intentions. To him they had been little different\nfrom any of the various forms of life he had been accustomed to in his\nnative jungle, where practically all were his enemies.\n\n\"Your pride has been wounded,\" said D\'Arnot, in conclusion. \"It is the\nfact that this man overcame you that hurts the most. But you need feel\nno shame. You would not make apologies for defeat had you been penned\nin that small room with an African lion, or with the great Gorilla of\nthe jungles.\n\n\"And yet you were battling with muscles that have time and time again\nbeen pitted, and always victoriously, against these terrors of the dark\ncontinent. It is no disgrace to fall beneath the superhuman strength\nof Tarzan of the Apes.\"\n\nAnd then, as the men stood looking first at Tarzan and then at their\nsuperior the ape-man did the one thing which was needed to erase the\nlast remnant of animosity which they might have felt for him. With\noutstretched hand he advanced toward them.\n\n\"I am sorry for the mistake I made,\" he said simply. \"Let us be\nfriends.\" And that was the end of the whole matter, except that Tarzan\nbecame a subject of much conversation in the barracks of the police,\nand increased the number of his friends by four brave men at least.\n\nOn their return to D\'Arnot\'s apartments the lieutenant found a letter\nawaiting him from an English friend, William Cecil Clayton, Lord\nGreystoke. The two had maintained a correspondence since the birth of\ntheir friendship on that ill-fated expedition in search of Jane Porter\nafter her theft by Terkoz, the bull ape.\n\n\"They are to be married in London in about two months,\" said D\'Arnot,\nas he completed his perusal of the letter. Tarzan did not need to be\ntold who was meant by \"they.\" He made no reply, but he was very quiet\nand thoughtful during the balance of the day.\n\nThat evening they attended the opera. Tarzan\'s mind was still occupied\nby his gloomy thoughts. He paid little or no attention to what was\ntranspiring upon the stage. Instead he saw only the lovely vision of a\nbeautiful American girl, and heard naught but a sad, sweet voice\nacknowledging that his love was returned. And she was to marry another!\n\nHe shook himself to be rid of his unwelcome thoughts, and at the same\ninstant he felt eyes upon him. With the instinct that was his by\nvirtue of training he looked up squarely into the eyes that were\nlooking at him, to find that they were shining from the smiling face of\nOlga, Countess de Coude. As Tarzan returned her bow he was positive\nthat there was an invitation in her look, almost a plea. The next\nintermission found him beside her in her box.\n\n\"I have so much wished to see you,\" she was saying. \"It has troubled\nme not a little to think that after the service you rendered to both my\nhusband and myself no adequate explanation was ever made you of what\nmust have seemed ingratitude on our part in not taking the necessary\nsteps to prevent a repetition of the attacks upon us by those two men.\"\n\n\"You wrong me,\" replied Tarzan. \"My thoughts of you have been only the\nmost pleasant. You must not feel that any explanation is due me. Have\nthey annoyed you further?\"\n\n\"They never cease,\" she replied sadly. \"I feel that I must tell some\none, and I do not know another who so deserves an explanation as you.\nYou must permit me to do so. It may be of service to you, for I know\nNikolas Rokoff quite well enough to be positive that you have not seen\nthe last of him. He will find some means to be revenged upon you.\nWhat I wish to tell you may be of aid to you in combating any scheme of\nrevenge he may harbor. I cannot tell you here, but tomorrow I shall be\nat home to Monsieur Tarzan at five.\"\n\n\"It will be an eternity until tomorrow at five,\" he said, as he bade\nher good night. From a corner of the theater Rokoff and Paulvitch saw\nMonsieur Tarzan in the box of the Countess de Coude, and both men\nsmiled.\n\nAt four-thirty the following afternoon a swarthy, bearded man rang the\nbell at the servants\' entrance of the palace of the Count de Coude.\nThe footman who opened the door raised his eyebrows in recognition as\nhe saw who stood without. A low conversation passed between the two.\n\nAt first the footman demurred from some proposition that the bearded\none made, but an instant later something passed from the hand of the\ncaller to the hand of the servant. Then the latter turned and led the\nvisitor by a roundabout way to a little curtained alcove off the\napartment in which the countess was wont to serve tea of an afternoon.\n\nA half hour later Tarzan was ushered into the room, and presently his\nhostess entered, smiling, and with outstretched hands.\n\n\"I am so glad that you came,\" she said.\n\n\"Nothing could have prevented,\" he replied.\n\nFor a few moments they spoke of the opera, of the topics that were then\noccupying the attention of Paris, of the pleasure of renewing their\nbrief acquaintance which had had its inception under such odd\ncircumstances, and this brought them to the subject that was uppermost\nin the minds of both.\n\n\"You must have wondered,\" said the countess finally, \"what the object\nof Rokoff\'s persecution could be. It is very simple. The count is\nintrusted with many of the vital secrets of the ministry of war. He\noften has in his possession papers that foreign powers would give a\nfortune to possess--secrets of state that their agents would commit\nmurder and worse than murder to learn.\n\n\"There is such a matter now in his possession that would make the fame\nand fortune of any Russian who could divulge it to his government.\nRokoff and Paulvitch are Russian spies. They will stop at nothing to\nprocure this information. The affair on the liner--I mean the matter\nof the card game--was for the purpose of blackmailing the knowledge\nthey seek from my husband.\n\n\"Had he been convicted of cheating at cards, his career would have been\nblighted. He would have had to leave the war department. He would\nhave been socially ostracized. They intended to hold this club over\nhim--the price of an avowal on their part that the count was but the\nvictim of the plot of enemies who wished to besmirch his name was to\nhave been the papers they seek.\n\n\"You thwarted them in this. Then they concocted the scheme whereby my\nreputation was to be the price, instead of the count\'s. When Paulvitch\nentered my cabin he explained it to me. If I would obtain the\ninformation for them he promised to go no farther, otherwise Rokoff,\nwho stood without, was to notify the purser that I was entertaining a\nman other than my husband behind the locked doors of my cabin. He was\nto tell every one he met on the boat, and when we landed he was to have\ngiven the whole story to the newspaper men.\n\n\"Was it not too horrible? But I happened to know something of Monsieur\nPaulvitch that would send him to the gallows in Russia if it were known\nby the police of St. Petersburg. I dared him to carry out his plan,\nand then I leaned toward him and whispered a name in his ear. Like\nthat\"--and she snapped her fingers--\"he flew at my throat as a madman.\nHe would have killed me had you not interfered.\"\n\n\"The brutes!\" muttered Tarzan.\n\n\"They are worse than that, my friend,\" she said.\n\n\"They are devils. I fear for you because you have gained their hatred.\nI wish you to be on your guard constantly. Tell me that you will, for\nmy sake, for I should never forgive myself should you suffer through\nthe kindness you did me.\"\n\n\"I do not fear them,\" he replied. \"I have survived grimmer enemies\nthan Rokoff and Paulvitch.\" He saw that she knew nothing of the\noccurrence in the Rue Maule, nor did he mention it, fearing that it\nmight distress her.\n\n\"For your own safety,\" he continued, \"why do you not turn the\nscoundrels over to the authorities? They should make quick work of\nthem.\"\n\nShe hesitated for a moment before replying.\n\n\"There are two reasons,\" she said finally. \"One of them it is that\nkeeps the count from doing that very thing. The other, my real reason\nfor fearing to expose them, I have never told--only Rokoff and I know\nit. I wonder,\" and then she paused, looking intently at him for a long\ntime.\n\n\"And what do you wonder?\" he asked, smiling.\n\n\"I was wondering why it is that I want to tell you the thing that I\nhave not dared tell even to my husband. I believe that you would\nunderstand, and that you could tell me the right course to follow. I\nbelieve that you would not judge me too harshly.\"\n\n\"I fear that I should prove a very poor judge, madame,\" Tarzan replied,\n\"for if you had been guilty of murder I should say that the victim\nshould be grateful to have met so sweet a fate.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, no,\" she expostulated; \"it is not so terrible as that. But\nfirst let me tell you the reason the count has for not prosecuting\nthese men; then, if I can hold my courage, I shall tell you the real\nreason that I dare not. The first is that Nikolas Rokoff is my\nbrother. We are Russians. Nikolas has been a bad man since I can\nremember. He was cashiered from the Russian army, in which he held a\ncaptaincy. There was a scandal for a time, but after a while it was\npartially forgotten, and my father obtained a position for him in the\nsecret service.\n\n\"There have been many terrible crimes laid at Nikolas\' door, but he has\nalways managed to escape punishment. Of late he has accomplished it by\ntrumped-up evidence convicting his victims of treason against the czar,\nand the Russian police, who are always only too ready to fasten guilt\nof this nature upon any and all, have accepted his version and\nexonerated him.\"\n\n\"Have not his attempted crimes against you and your husband forfeited\nwhatever rights the bonds of kinship might have accorded him?\" asked\nTarzan. \"The fact that you are his sister has not deterred him from\nseeking to besmirch your honor. You owe him no loyalty, madame.\"\n\n\"Ah, but there is that other reason. If I owe him no loyalty though he\nbe my brother, I cannot so easily disavow the fear I hold him in\nbecause of a certain episode in my life of which he is cognizant.\n\n\"I might as well tell you all,\" she resumed after a pause, \"for I see\nthat it is in my heart to tell you sooner or later. I was educated in\na convent. While there I met a man whom I supposed to be a gentleman.\nI knew little or nothing about men and less about love. I got it into\nmy foolish head that I loved this man, and at his urgent request I ran\naway with him. We were to have been married.\n\n\"I was with him just three hours. All in the daytime and in public\nplaces--railroad stations and upon a train. When we reached our\ndestination where we were to have been married, two officers stepped up\nto my escort as we descended from the train, and placed him under\narrest. They took me also, but when I had told my story they did not\ndetain me, other than to send me back to the convent under the care of\na matron. It seemed that the man who had wooed me was no gentleman at\nall, but a deserter from the army as well as a fugitive from civil\njustice. He had a police record in nearly every country in Europe.\n\n\"The matter was hushed up by the authorities of the convent. Not even\nmy parents knew of it. But Nikolas met the man afterward, and learned\nthe whole story. Now he threatens to tell the count if I do not do\njust as he wishes me to.\"\n\nTarzan laughed. \"You are still but a little girl. The story that you\nhave told me cannot reflect in any way upon your reputation, and were\nyou not a little girl at heart you would know it. Go to your husband\ntonight, and tell him the whole story, just as you have told it to me.\nUnless I am much mistaken he will laugh at you for your fears, and take\nimmediate steps to put that precious brother of yours in prison where\nhe belongs.\"\n\n\"I only wish that I dared,\" she said; \"but I am afraid. I learned\nearly to fear men. First my father, then Nikolas, then the fathers in\nthe convent. Nearly all my friends fear their husbands--why should I\nnot fear mine?\"\n\n\"It does not seem right that women should fear men,\" said Tarzan, an\nexpression of puzzlement on his face. \"I am better acquainted with the\njungle folk, and there it is more often the other way around, except\namong the black men, and they to my mind are in most ways lower in the\nscale than the beasts. No, I cannot understand why civilized women\nshould fear men, the beings that are created to protect them. I should\nhate to think that any woman feared me.\"\n\n\"I do not think that any woman would fear you, my friend,\" said Olga de\nCoude softly. \"I have known you but a short while, yet though it may\nseem foolish to say it, you are the only man I have ever known whom I\nthink that I should never fear--it is strange, too, for you are very\nstrong. I wondered at the ease with which you handled Nikolas and\nPaulvitch that night in my cabin. It was marvellous.\" As Tarzan was\nleaving her a short time later he wondered a little at the clinging\npressure of her hand at parting, and the firm insistence with which she\nexacted a promise from him that he would call again on the morrow.\n\nThe memory of her half-veiled eyes and perfect lips as she had stood\nsmiling up into his face as he bade her good-by remained with him for\nthe balance of the day. Olga de Coude was a very beautiful woman, and\nTarzan of the Apes a very lonely young man, with a heart in him that\nwas in need of the doctoring that only a woman may provide.\n\nAs the countess turned back into the room after Tarzan\'s departure, she\nfound herself face to face with Nikolas Rokoff.\n\n\"How long have you been here?\" she cried, shrinking away from him.\n\n\"Since before your lover came,\" he answered, with a nasty leer.\n\n\"Stop!\" she commanded. \"How dare you say such a thing to me--your\nsister!\"\n\n\"Well, my dear Olga, if he is not your lover, accept my apologies; but\nit is no fault of yours that he is not. Had he one-tenth the knowledge\nof women that I have you would be in his arms this minute. He is a\nstupid fool, Olga. Why, your every word and act was an open invitation\nto him, and he had not the sense to see it.\"\n\nThe woman put her hands to her ears.\n\n\"I will not listen. You are wicked to say such things as that. No\nmatter what you may threaten me with, you know that I am a good woman.\nAfter tonight you will not dare to annoy me, for I shall tell Raoul\nall. He will understand, and then, Monsieur Nikolas, beware!\"\n\n\"You shall tell him nothing,\" said Rokoff. \"I have this affair now,\nand with the help of one of your servants whom I may trust it will lack\nnothing in the telling when the time comes that the details of the\nsworn evidence shall be poured into your husband\'s ears. The other\naffair served its purpose well--we now have something tangible to work\non, Olga. A real AFFAIR--and you a trusted wife. Shame, Olga,\" and\nthe brute laughed.\n\nSo the countess told her count nothing, and matters were worse than\nthey had been. From a vague fear her mind was transferred to a very\ntangible one. It may be, too, that conscience helped to enlarge it out\nof all proportion.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 5\n\nThe Plot That Failed\n\n\nFor a month Tarzan was a regular and very welcome devotee at the shrine\nof the beautiful Countess de Coude. Often he met other members of the\nselect little coterie that dropped in for tea of an afternoon. More\noften Olga found devices that would give her an hour of Tarzan alone.\n\nFor a time she had been frightened by what Nikolas had insinuated. She\nhad not thought of this big, young man as anything more than friend,\nbut with the suggestion implanted by the evil words of her brother she\nhad grown to speculate much upon the strange force which seemed to\nattract her toward the gray-eyed stranger. She did not wish to love\nhim, nor did she wish his love.\n\nShe was much younger than her husband, and without having realized it\nshe had been craving the haven of a friendship with one nearer her own\nage. Twenty is shy in exchanging confidences with forty. Tarzan was\nbut two years her senior. He could understand her, she felt. Then he\nwas clean and honorable and chivalrous. She was not afraid of him.\nThat she could trust him she had felt instinctively from the first.\n\nFrom a distance Rokoff had watched this growing intimacy with malicious\nglee. Ever since he had learned that Tarzan knew that he was a Russian\nspy there had been added to his hatred for the ape-man a great fear\nthat he would expose him. He was but waiting now until the moment was\npropitious for a master stroke. He wanted to rid himself forever of\nTarzan, and at the same time reap an ample revenge for the humiliations\nand defeats that he had suffered at his hands.\n\nTarzan was nearer to contentment than he had been since the peace and\ntranquility of his jungle had been broken in upon by the advent of the\nmarooned Porter party. He enjoyed the pleasant social intercourse with\nOlga\'s friends, while the friendship which had sprung up between the\nfair countess and himself was a source of never-ending delight. It\nbroke in upon and dispersed his gloomy thoughts, and served as a balm\nto his lacerated heart.\n\nSometimes D\'Arnot accompanied him on his visits to the De Coude home,\nfor he had long known both Olga and the count. Occasionally De Coude\ndropped in, but the multitudinous affairs of his official position and\nthe never-ending demands of politics kept him from home usually until\nlate at night.\n\nRokoff spied upon Tarzan almost constantly, waiting for the time that\nhe should call at the De Coude palace at night, but in this he was\ndoomed to disappointment. On several occasions Tarzan accompanied the\ncountess to her home after the opera, but he invariably left her at the\nentrance--much to the disgust of the lady\'s devoted brother.\n\nFinding that it seemed impossible to trap Tarzan through any voluntary\nact of his own, Rokoff and Paulvitch put their heads together to hatch\na plan that would trap the ape-man in all the circumstantial evidence\nof a compromising position.\n\nFor days they watched the papers as well as the movements of De Coude\nand Tarzan. At length they were rewarded. A morning paper made brief\nmention of a smoker that was to be given on the following evening by\nthe German minister. De Coude\'s name was among those of the invited\nguests. If he attended this meant that he would be absent from his\nhome until after midnight.\n\nOn the night of the banquet Paulvitch waited at the curb before the\nresidence of the German minister, where he could scan the face of each\nguest that arrived. He had not long to wait before De Coude descended\nfrom his car and passed him. That was enough. Paulvitch hastened back\nto his quarters, where Rokoff awaited him. There they waited until\nafter eleven, then Paulvitch took down the receiver of their telephone.\nHe called a number.\n\n\"The apartments of Lieutenant D\'Arnot?\" he asked, when he had obtained\nhis connection.\n\n\"A message for Monsieur Tarzan, if he will be so kind as to step to the\ntelephone.\"\n\nFor a minute there was silence.\n\n\"Monsieur Tarzan?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, monsieur, this is Francois--in the service of the Countess de\nCoude. Possibly monsieur does poor Francois the honor to recall\nhim--yes?\n\n\"Yes, monsieur. I have a message, an urgent message from the countess.\nShe asks that you hasten to her at once--she is in trouble, monsieur.\n\n\"No, monsieur, poor Francois does not know. Shall I tell madame that\nmonsieur will be here shortly?\n\n\"Thank you, monsieur. The good God will bless you.\"\n\nPaulvitch hung up the receiver and turned to grin at Rokoff.\n\n\"It will take him thirty minutes to get there. If you reach the German\nminister\'s in fifteen, De Coude should arrive at his home in about\nforty-five minutes. It all depends upon whether the fool will remain\nfifteen minutes after he finds that a trick has been played upon him;\nbut unless I am mistaken Olga will be loath to let him go in so short a\ntime as that. Here is the note for De Coude. Hasten!\"\n\nPaulvitch lost no time in reaching the German minister\'s. At the door\nhe handed the note to a footman. \"This is for the Count de Coude. It\nis very urgent. You must see that it is placed in his hands at once,\"\nand he dropped a piece of silver into the willing hand of the servant.\nThen he returned to his quarters.\n\nA moment later De Coude was apologizing to his host as he tore open the\nenvelope. What he read left his face white and his hand trembling.\n\nMONSIEUR LE COUNT DE COUDE:\n\nOne who wishes to save the honor of your name takes this means to warn\nyou that the sanctity of your home is this minute in jeopardy.\n\nA certain man who for months has been a constant visitor there during\nyour absence is now with your wife. If you go at once to your\ncountess\' boudoir you will find them together.\n\n A FRIEND.\n\n\nTwenty minutes after Paulvitch had called Tarzan, Rokoff obtained a\nconnection with Olga\'s private line. Her maid answered the telephone\nwhich was in the countess\' boudoir.\n\n\"But madame has retired,\" said the maid, in answer to Rokoff\'s request\nto speak with her.\n\n\"This is a very urgent message for the countess\' ears alone,\" replied\nRokoff. \"Tell her that she must arise and slip something about her and\ncome to the telephone. I shall call up again in five minutes.\" Then\nhe hung up his receiver. A moment later Paulvitch entered.\n\n\"The count has the message?\" asked Rokoff.\n\n\"He should be on his way to his home by now,\" replied Paulvitch.\n\n\"Good! My lady will be sitting in her boudoir, very much in negligee,\nabout now. In a minute the faithful Jacques will escort Monsieur\nTarzan into her presence without announcing him. It will take a few\nminutes for explanations. Olga will look very alluring in the filmy\ncreation that is her night-dress, and the clinging robe which but half\nconceals the charms that the former does not conceal at all. Olga will\nbe surprised, but not displeased.\n\n\"If there is a drop of red blood in the man the count will break in\nupon a very pretty love scene in about fifteen minutes from now. I\nthink we have planned marvelously, my dear Alexis. Let us go out and\ndrink to the very good health of Monsieur Tarzan in some of old\nPlancon\'s unparalleled absinth; not forgetting that the Count de Coude\nis one of the best swordsmen in Paris, and by far the best shot in all\nFrance.\"\n\nWhen Tarzan reached Olga\'s, Jacques was awaiting him at the entrance.\n\n\"This way, Monsieur,\" he said, and led the way up the broad, marble\nstaircase. In another moment he had opened a door, and, drawing aside\na heavy curtain, obsequiously bowed Tarzan into a dimly lighted\napartment. Then Jacques vanished.\n\nAcross the room from him Tarzan saw Olga seated before a little desk on\nwhich stood her telephone. She was tapping impatiently upon the\npolished surface of the desk. She had not heard him enter.\n\n\"Olga,\" he said, \"what is wrong?\"\n\nShe turned toward him with a little cry of alarm.\n\n\"Jean!\" she cried. \"What are you doing here? Who admitted you? What\ndoes it mean?\"\n\nTarzan was thunderstruck, but in an instant he realized a part of the\ntruth.\n\n\"Then you did not send for me, Olga?\"\n\n\"Send for you at this time of night? MON DIEU! Jean, do you think\nthat I am quite mad?\"\n\n\"Francois telephoned me to come at once; that you were in trouble and\nwanted me.\"\n\n\"Francois? Who in the world is Francois?\"\n\n\"He said that he was in your service. He spoke as though I should\nrecall the fact.\"\n\n\"There is no one by that name in my employ. Some one has played a joke\nupon you, Jean,\" and Olga laughed.\n\n\"I fear that it may be a most sinister \'joke,\' Olga,\" he replied.\n\"There is more back of it than humor.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? You do not think that--\"\n\n\"Where is the count?\" he interrupted.\n\n\"At the German ambassador\'s.\"\n\n\"This is another move by your estimable brother. Tomorrow the count\nwill hear of it. He will question the servants. Everything will point\nto--to what Rokoff wishes the count to think.\"\n\n\"The scoundrel!\" cried Olga. She had arisen, and come close to Tarzan,\nwhere she stood looking up into his face. She was very frightened. In\nher eyes was an expression that the hunter sees in those of a poor,\nterrified doe--puzzled--questioning. She trembled, and to steady\nherself raised her hands to his broad shoulders. \"What shall we do,\nJean?\" she whispered. \"It is terrible. Tomorrow all Paris will read\nof it--he will see to that.\"\n\nHer look, her attitude, her words were eloquent of the age-old appeal\nof defenseless woman to her natural protector--man. Tarzan took one of\nthe warm little hands that lay on his breast in his own strong one.\nThe act was quite involuntary, and almost equally so was the instinct\nof protection that threw a sheltering arm around the girl\'s shoulders.\n\nThe result was electrical. Never before had he been so close to her.\nIn startled guilt they looked suddenly into each other\'s eyes, and\nwhere Olga de Coude should have been strong she was weak, for she crept\ncloser into the man\'s arms, and clasped her own about his neck. And\nTarzan of the Apes? He took the panting figure into his mighty arms,\nand covered the hot lips with kisses.\n\nRaoul de Coude made hurried excuses to his host after he had read the\nnote handed him by the ambassador\'s butler. Never afterward could he\nrecall the nature of the excuses he made. Everything was quite a blur\nto him up to the time that he stood on the threshold of his own home.\nThen he became very cool, moving quietly and with caution. For some\ninexplicable reason Jacques had the door open before he was halfway to\nthe steps. It did not strike him at the time as being unusual, though\nafterward he remarked it.\n\nVery softly he tiptoed up the stairs and along the gallery to the door\nof his wife\'s boudoir. In his hand was a heavy walking stick--in his\nheart, murder.\n\nOlga was the first to see him. With a horrified shriek she tore\nherself from Tarzan\'s arms, and the ape-man turned just in time to ward\nwith his arm a terrific blow that De Coude had aimed at his head.\nOnce, twice, three times the heavy stick fell with lightning rapidity,\nand each blow aided in the transition of the ape-man back to the\nprimordial.\n\nWith the low, guttural snarl of the bull ape he sprang for the\nFrenchman. The great stick was torn from his grasp and broken in two\nas though it had been matchwood, to be flung aside as the now\ninfuriated beast charged for his adversary\'s throat. Olga de Coude\nstood a horrified spectator of the terrible scene which ensued during\nthe next brief moment, then she sprang to where Tarzan was murdering\nher husband--choking the life from him--shaking him as a terrier might\nshake a rat.\n\nFrantically she tore at his great hands. \"Mother of God!\" she cried.\n\"You are killing him, you are killing him! Oh, Jean, you are killing\nmy husband!\"\n\nTarzan was deaf with rage. Suddenly he hurled the body to the floor,\nand, placing his foot upon the upturned breast, raised his head. Then\nthrough the palace of the Count de Coude rang the awesome challenge of\nthe bull ape that has made a kill. From cellar to attic the horrid\nsound searched out the servants, and left them blanched and trembling.\nThe woman in the room sank to her knees beside the body of her husband,\nand prayed.\n\nSlowly the red mist faded from before Tarzan\'s eyes. Things began to\ntake form--he was regaining the perspective of civilized man. His eyes\nfell upon the figure of the kneeling woman. \"Olga,\" he whispered. She\nlooked up, expecting to see the maniacal light of murder in the eyes\nabove her. Instead she saw sorrow and contrition.\n\n\"Oh, Jean!\" she cried. \"See what you have done. He was my husband. I\nloved him, and you have killed him.\"\n\nVery gently Tarzan raised the limp form of the Count de Coude and bore\nit to a couch. Then he put his ear to the man\'s breast.\n\n\"Some brandy, Olga,\" he said.\n\nShe brought it, and together they forced it between his lips.\nPresently a faint gasp came from the white lips. The head turned, and\nDe Coude groaned.\n\n\"He will not die,\" said Tarzan. \"Thank God!\"\n\n\"Why did you do it, Jean?\" she asked.\n\n\"I do not know. He struck me, and I went mad. I have seen the apes of\nmy tribe do the same thing. I have never told you my story, Olga. It\nwould have been better had you known it--this might not have happened.\nI never saw my father. The only mother I knew was a ferocious she-ape.\nUntil I was fifteen I had never seen a human being. I was twenty\nbefore I saw a white man. A little more than a year ago I was a naked\nbeast of prey in an African jungle.\n\n\"Do not judge me too harshly. Two years is too short a time in which\nto attempt to work the change in an individual that it has taken\ncountless ages to accomplish in the white race.\"\n\n\"I do not judge at all, Jean. The fault is mine. You must go now--he\nmust not find you here when he regains consciousness. Good-by.\"\n\nIt was a sorrowful Tarzan who walked with bowed head from the palace of\nthe Count de Coude.\n\nOnce outside his thoughts took definite shape, to the end that twenty\nminutes later he entered a police station not far from the Rue Maule.\nHere he soon found one of the officers with whom he had had the\nencounter several weeks previous. The policeman was genuinely glad to\nsee again the man who had so roughly handled him. After a moment of\nconversation Tarzan asked if he had ever heard of Nikolas Rokoff or\nAlexis Paulvitch.\n\n\"Very often, indeed, monsieur. Each has a police record, and while\nthere is nothing charged against them now, we make it a point to know\npretty well where they may be found should the occasion demand. It is\nonly the same precaution that we take with every known criminal. Why\ndoes monsieur ask?\"\n\n\"They are known to me,\" replied Tarzan. \"I wish to see Monsieur Rokoff\non a little matter of business. If you can direct me to his lodgings I\nshall appreciate it.\"\n\nA few minutes later he bade the policeman adieu, and, with a slip of\npaper in his pocket bearing a certain address in a semirespectable\nquarter, he walked briskly toward the nearest taxi stand.\n\nRokoff and Paulvitch had returned to their rooms, and were sitting\ntalking over the probable outcome of the evening\'s events. They had\ntelephoned to the offices of two of the morning papers from which they\nmomentarily expected representatives to hear the first report of the\nscandal that was to stir social Paris on the morrow.\n\nA heavy step sounded on the stairway. \"Ah, but these newspaper men are\nprompt,\" exclaimed Rokoff, and as a knock fell upon the door of their\nroom: \"Enter, monsieur.\"\n\nThe smile of welcome froze upon the Russian\'s face as he looked into\nthe hard, gray eyes of his visitor.\n\n\"Name of a name!\" he shouted, springing to his feet, \"What brings you\nhere!\"\n\n\"Sit down!\" said Tarzan, so low that the men could barely catch the\nwords, but in a tone that brought Rokoff to his chair, and kept\nPaulvitch in his.\n\n\"You know what has brought me here,\" he continued, in the same low\ntone. \"It should be to kill you, but because you are Olga de Coude\'s\nbrother I shall not do that--now.\n\n\"I shall give you a chance for your lives. Paulvitch does not count\nmuch--he is merely a stupid, foolish little tool, and so I shall not\nkill him so long as I permit you to live. Before I leave you two alive\nin this room you will have done two things. The first will be to write\na full confession of your connection with tonight\'s plot--and sign it.\n\n\"The second will be to promise me upon pain of death that you will\npermit no word of this affair to get into the newspapers. If you do\nnot do both, neither of you will be alive when I pass next through that\ndoorway. Do you understand?\" And, without waiting for a reply: \"Make\nhaste; there is ink before you, and paper and a pen.\"\n\nRokoff assumed a truculent air, attempting by bravado to show how\nlittle he feared Tarzan\'s threats. An instant later he felt the\nape-man\'s steel fingers at his throat, and Paulvitch, who attempted to\ndodge them and reach the door, was lifted completely off the floor, and\nhurled senseless into a corner. When Rokoff commenced to blacken about\nthe face Tarzan released his hold and shoved the fellow back into his\nchair. After a moment of coughing Rokoff sat sullenly glaring at the\nman standing opposite him. Presently Paulvitch came to himself, and\nlimped painfully back to his chair at Tarzan\'s command.\n\n\"Now write,\" said the ape-man. \"If it is necessary to handle you again\nI shall not be so lenient.\"\n\nRokoff picked up a pen and commenced to write.\n\n\"See that you omit no detail, and that you mention every name,\"\ncautioned Tarzan.\n\nPresently there was a knock at the door. \"Enter,\" said Tarzan.\n\nA dapper young man came in. \"I am from the MATIN,\" he announced. \"I\nunderstand that Monsieur Rokoff has a story for me.\"\n\n\"Then you are mistaken, monsieur,\" replied Tarzan. \"You have no story\nfor publication, have you, my dear Nikolas.\"\n\nRokoff looked up from his writing with an ugly scowl upon his face.\n\n\"No,\" he growled, \"I have no story for publication--now.\"\n\n\"Nor ever, my dear Nikolas,\" and the reporter did not see the nasty\nlight in the ape-man\'s eye; but Nikolas Rokoff did.\n\n\"Nor ever,\" he repeated hastily.\n\n\"It is too bad that monsieur has been troubled,\" said Tarzan, turning\nto the newspaper man. \"I bid monsieur good evening,\" and he bowed the\ndapper young man out of the room, and closed the door in his face.\n\nAn hour later Tarzan, with a rather bulky manuscript in his coat\npocket, turned at the door leading from Rokoff\'s room.\n\n\"Were I you I should leave France,\" he said, \"for sooner or later I\nshall find an excuse to kill you that will not in any way compromise\nyour sister.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 6\n\nA Duel\n\n\nD\'Arnot was asleep when Tarzan entered their apartments after leaving\nRokoff\'s. Tarzan did not disturb him, but the following morning he\nnarrated the happenings of the previous evening, omitting not a single\ndetail.\n\n\"What a fool I have been,\" he concluded. \"De Coude and his wife were\nboth my friends. How have I returned their friendship? Barely did I\nescape murdering the count. I have cast a stigma on the name of a good\nwoman. It is very probable that I have broken up a happy home.\"\n\n\"Do you love Olga de Coude?\" asked D\'Arnot.\n\n\"Were I not positive that she does not love me I could not answer your\nquestion, Paul; but without disloyalty to her I tell you that I do not\nlove her, nor does she love me. For an instant we were the victims of\na sudden madness--it was not love--and it would have left us, unharmed,\nas suddenly as it had come upon us even though De Coude had not\nreturned. As you know, I have had little experience of women. Olga de\nCoude is very beautiful; that, and the dim light and the seductive\nsurroundings, and the appeal of the defenseless for protection, might\nhave been resisted by a more civilized man, but my civilization is not\neven skin deep--it does not go deeper than my clothes.\n\n\"Paris is no place for me. I will but continue to stumble into more\nand more serious pitfalls. The man-made restrictions are irksome. I\nfeel always that I am a prisoner. I cannot endure it, my friend, and\nso I think that I shall go back to my own jungle, and lead the life\nthat God intended that I should lead when He put me there.\"\n\n\"Do not take it so to heart, Jean,\" responded D\'Arnot. \"You have\nacquitted yourself much better than most \'civilized\' men would have\nunder similar circumstances. As to leaving Paris at this time, I\nrather think that Raoul de Coude may be expected to have something to\nsay on that subject before long.\"\n\nNor was D\'Arnot mistaken. A week later on Monsieur Flaubert was\nannounced about eleven in the morning, as D\'Arnot and Tarzan were\nbreakfasting. Monsieur Flaubert was an impressively polite gentleman.\nWith many low bows he delivered Monsieur le Count de Coude\'s challenge\nto Monsieur Tarzan. Would monsieur be so very kind as to arrange to\nhave a friend meet Monsieur Flaubert at as early an hour as convenient,\nthat the details might be arranged to the mutual satisfaction of all\nconcerned?\n\nCertainly. Monsieur Tarzan would be delighted to place his interests\nunreservedly in the hands of his friend, Lieutenant D\'Arnot. And so it\nwas arranged that D\'Arnot was to call on Monsieur Flaubert at two that\nafternoon, and the polite Monsieur Flaubert, with many bows, left them.\n\nWhen they were again alone D\'Arnot looked quizzically at Tarzan.\n\n\"Well?\" he said.\n\n\"Now to my sins I must add murder, or else myself be killed,\" said\nTarzan. \"I am progressing rapidly in the ways of my civilized\nbrothers.\"\n\n\"What weapons shall you select?\" asked D\'Arnot. \"De Coude is\naccredited with being a master with the sword, and a splendid shot.\"\n\n\"I might then choose poisoned arrows at twenty paces, or spears at the\nsame distance,\" laughed Tarzan. \"Make it pistols, Paul.\"\n\n\"He will kill you, Jean.\"\n\n\"I have no doubt of it,\" replied Tarzan. \"I must die some day.\"\n\n\"We had better make it swords,\" said D\'Arnot. \"He will be satisfied\nwith wounding you, and there is less danger of a mortal wound.\"\n\"Pistols,\" said Tarzan, with finality.\n\nD\'Arnot tried to argue him out of it, but without avail, so pistols it\nwas.\n\nD\'Arnot returned from his conference with Monsieur Flaubert shortly\nafter four.\n\n\"It is all arranged,\" he said. \"Everything is satisfactory. Tomorrow\nmorning at daylight--there is a secluded spot on the road not far from\nEtamps. For some personal reason Monsieur Flaubert preferred it. I\ndid not demur.\"\n\n\"Good!\" was Tarzan\'s only comment. He did not refer to the matter\nagain even indirectly. That night he wrote several letters before he\nretired. After sealing and addressing them he placed them all in an\nenvelope addressed to D\'Arnot. As he undressed D\'Arnot heard him\nhumming a music-hall ditty.\n\nThe Frenchman swore under his breath. He was very unhappy, for he was\npositive that when the sun rose the next morning it would look down\nupon a dead Tarzan. It grated upon him to see Tarzan so unconcerned.\n\n\"This is a most uncivilized hour for people to kill each other,\"\nremarked the ape-man when he had been routed out of a comfortable bed\nin the blackness of the early morning hours. He had slept well, and so\nit seemed that his head scarcely touched the pillow ere his man\ndeferentially aroused him. His remark was addressed to D\'Arnot, who\nstood fully dressed in the doorway of Tarzan\'s bedroom.\n\nD\'Arnot had scarcely slept at all during the night. He was nervous,\nand therefore inclined to be irritable.\n\n\"I presume you slept like a baby all night,\" he said.\n\nTarzan laughed. \"From your tone, Paul, I infer that you rather harbor\nthe fact against me. I could not help it, really.\"\n\n\"No, Jean; it is not that,\" replied D\'Arnot, himself smiling. \"But you\ntake the entire matter with such infernal indifference--it is\nexasperating. One would think that you were going out to shoot at a\ntarget, rather than to face one of the best shots in France.\"\n\nTarzan shrugged his shoulders. \"I am going out to expiate a great\nwrong, Paul. A very necessary feature of the expiation is the\nmarksmanship of my opponent. Wherefore, then, should I be\ndissatisfied? Have you not yourself told me that Count de Coude is a\nsplendid marksman?\"\n\n\"You mean that you hope to be killed?\" exclaimed D\'Arnot, in horror.\n\n\"I cannot say that I hope to be; but you must admit that there is\nlittle reason to believe that I shall not be killed.\"\n\nHad D\'Arnot known the thing that was in the ape-man\'s mind--that had\nbeen in his mind almost from the first intimation that De Coude would\ncall him to account on the field of honor--he would have been even more\nhorrified than he was.\n\nIn silence they entered D\'Arnot\'s great car, and in similar silence\nthey sped over the dim road that leads to Etamps. Each man was\noccupied with his own thoughts. D\'Arnot\'s were very mournful, for he\nwas genuinely fond of Tarzan. The great friendship which had sprung up\nbetween these two men whose lives and training had been so widely\ndifferent had but been strengthened by association, for they were both\nmen to whom the same high ideals of manhood, of personal courage, and\nof honor appealed with equal force. They could understand one another,\nand each could be proud of the friendship of the other.\n\nTarzan of the Apes was wrapped in thoughts of the past; pleasant\nmemories of the happier occasions of his lost jungle life. He recalled\nthe countless boyhood hours that he had spent cross-legged upon the\ntable in his dead father\'s cabin, his little brown body bent over one\nof the fascinating picture books from which, unaided, he had gleaned\nthe secret of the printed language long before the sounds of human\nspeech fell upon his ears. A smile of contentment softened his strong\nface as he thought of that day of days that he had had alone with Jane\nPorter in the heart of his primeval forest.\n\nPresently his reminiscences were broken in upon by the stopping of the\ncar--they were at their destination. Tarzan\'s mind returned to the\naffairs of the moment. He knew that he was about to die, but there was\nno fear of death in him. To a denizen of the cruel jungle death is a\ncommonplace. The first law of nature compels them to cling tenaciously\nto life--to fight for it; but it does not teach them to fear death.\n\nD\'Arnot and Tarzan were first upon the field of honor. A moment later\nDe Coude, Monsieur Flaubert, and a third gentleman arrived. The last\nwas introduced to D\'Arnot and Tarzan; he was a physician.\n\nD\'Arnot and Monsieur Flaubert spoke together in whispers for a brief\ntime. The Count de Coude and Tarzan stood apart at opposite sides of\nthe field. Presently the seconds summoned them. D\'Arnot and Monsieur\nFlaubert had examined both pistols. The two men who were to face each\nother a moment later stood silently while Monsieur Flaubert recited the\nconditions they were to observe.\n\nThey were to stand back to back. At a signal from Monsieur Flaubert\nthey were to walk in opposite directions, their pistols hanging by\ntheir sides. When each had proceeded ten paces D\'Arnot was to give the\nfinal signal--then they were to turn and fire at will until one fell,\nor each had expended the three shots allowed.\n\nWhile Monsieur Flaubert spoke Tarzan selected a cigarette from his\ncase, and lighted it. De Coude was the personification of\ncoolness--was he not the best shot in France?\n\nPresently Monsieur Flaubert nodded to D\'Arnot, and each man placed his\nprincipal in position.\n\n\"Are you quite ready, gentlemen?\" asked Monsieur Flaubert.\n\n\"Quite,\" replied De Coude.\n\nTarzan nodded. Monsieur Flaubert gave the signal. He and D\'Arnot\nstepped back a few paces to be out of the line of fire as the men paced\nslowly apart. Six! Seven! Eight! There were tears in D\'Arnot\'s\neyes. He loved Tarzan very much. Nine! Another pace, and the poor\nlieutenant gave the signal he so hated to give. To him it sounded the\ndoom of his best friend.\n\nQuickly De Coude wheeled and fired. Tarzan gave a little start. His\npistol still dangled at his side. De Coude hesitated, as though\nwaiting to see his antagonist crumple to the ground. The Frenchman was\ntoo experienced a marksman not to know that he had scored a hit. Still\nTarzan made no move to raise his pistol. De Coude fired once more, but\nthe attitude of the ape-man--the utter indifference that was so\napparent in every line of the nonchalant ease of his giant figure, and\nthe even unruffled puffing of his cigarette--had disconcerted the best\nmarksman in France. This time Tarzan did not start, but again De Coude\nknew that he had hit.\n\nSuddenly the explanation leaped to his mind--his antagonist was coolly\ntaking these terrible chances in the hope that he would receive no\nstaggering wound from any of De Coude\'s three shots. Then he would\ntake his own time about shooting De Coude down deliberately, coolly,\nand in cold blood. A little shiver ran up the Frenchman\'s spine. It\nwas fiendish--diabolical. What manner of creature was this that could\nstand complacently with two bullets in him, waiting for the third?\n\nAnd so De Coude took careful aim this time, but his nerve was gone, and\nhe made a clean miss. Not once had Tarzan raised his pistol hand from\nwhere it hung beside his leg.\n\nFor a moment the two stood looking straight into each other\'s eyes. On\nTarzan\'s face was a pathetic expression of disappointment. On De\nCoude\'s a rapidly growing expression of horror--yes, of terror.\n\nHe could endure it no longer.\n\n\"Mother of God! Monsieur--shoot!\" he screamed.\n\nBut Tarzan did not raise his pistol. Instead, he advanced toward De\nCoude, and when D\'Arnot and Monsieur Flaubert, misinterpreting his\nintention, would have rushed between them, he raised his left hand in a\nsign of remonstrance.\n\n\"Do not fear,\" he said to them, \"I shall not harm him.\"\n\nIt was most unusual, but they halted. Tarzan advanced until he was\nquite close to De Coude.\n\n\"There must have been something wrong with monsieur\'s pistol,\" he said.\n\"Or monsieur is unstrung. Take mine, monsieur, and try again,\" and\nTarzan offered his pistol, butt foremost, to the astonished De Coude.\n\n\"MON DIEU, monsieur!\" cried the latter. \"Are you mad?\"\n\n\"No, my friend,\" replied the ape-man; \"but I deserve to die. It is the\nonly way in which I may atone for the wrong I have done a very good\nwoman. Take my pistol and do as I bid.\"\n\n\"It would be murder,\" replied De Coude. \"But what wrong did you do my\nwife? She swore to me that--\"\n\n\"I do not mean that,\" said Tarzan quickly. \"You saw all the wrong that\npassed between us. But that was enough to cast a shadow upon her name,\nand to ruin the happiness of a man against whom I had no enmity. The\nfault was all mine, and so I hoped to die for it this morning. I am\ndisappointed that monsieur is not so wonderful a marksman as I had been\nled to believe.\"\n\n\"You say that the fault was all yours?\" asked De Coude eagerly.\n\n\"All mine, monsieur. Your wife is a very pure woman. She loves only\nyou. The fault that you saw was all mine. The thing that brought me\nthere was no fault of either the Countess de Coude or myself. Here is\na paper which will quite positively demonstrate that,\" and Tarzan drew\nfrom his pocket the statement Rokoff had written and signed.\n\nDe Coude took it and read. D\'Arnot and Monsieur Flaubert had drawn\nnear. They were interested spectators of this strange ending of a\nstrange duel. None spoke until De Coude had quite finished, then he\nlooked up at Tarzan.\n\n\"You are a very brave and chivalrous gentleman,\" he said. \"I thank God\nthat I did not kill you.\"\n\nDe Coude was a Frenchman. Frenchmen are impulsive. He threw his arms\nabout Tarzan and embraced him. Monsieur Flaubert embraced D\'Arnot.\nThere was no one to embrace the doctor. So possibly it was pique which\nprompted him to interfere, and demand that he be permitted to dress\nTarzan\'s wounds.\n\n\"This gentleman was hit once at least,\" he said. \"Possibly thrice.\"\n\n\"Twice,\" said Tarzan. \"Once in the left shoulder, and again in the\nleft side--both flesh wounds, I think.\" But the doctor insisted upon\nstretching him upon the sward, and tinkering with him until the wounds\nwere cleansed and the flow of blood checked.\n\nOne result of the duel was that they all rode back to Paris together in\nD\'Arnot\'s car, the best of friends. De Coude was so relieved to have\nhad this double assurance of his wife\'s loyalty that he felt no rancor\nat all toward Tarzan. It is true that the latter had assumed much more\nof the fault than was rightly his, but if he lied a little he may be\nexcused, for he lied in the service of a woman, and he lied like a\ngentleman.\n\nThe ape-man was confined to his bed for several days. He felt that it\nwas foolish and unnecessary, but the doctor and D\'Arnot took the matter\nso to heart that he gave in to please them, though it made him laugh to\nthink of it.\n\n\"It is droll,\" he said to D\'Arnot. \"To lie abed because of a pin\nprick! Why, when Bolgani, the king gorilla, tore me almost to pieces,\nwhile I was still but a little boy, did I have a nice soft bed to lie\non? No, only the damp, rotting vegetation of the jungle. Hidden\nbeneath some friendly bush I lay for days and weeks with only Kala to\nnurse me--poor, faithful Kala, who kept the insects from my wounds and\nwarned off the beasts of prey.\n\n\"When I called for water she brought it to me in her own mouth--the\nonly way she knew to carry it. There was no sterilized gauze, there\nwas no antiseptic bandage--there was nothing that would not have driven\nour dear doctor mad to have seen. Yet I recovered--recovered to lie in\nbed because of a tiny scratch that one of the jungle folk would scarce\nrealize unless it were upon the end of his nose.\"\n\nBut the time was soon over, and before he realized it Tarzan found\nhimself abroad again. Several times De Coude had called, and when he\nfound that Tarzan was anxious for employment of some nature he promised\nto see what could be done to find a berth for him.\n\nIt was the first day that Tarzan was permitted to go out that he\nreceived a message from De Coude requesting him to call at the count\'s\noffice that afternoon.\n\nHe found De Coude awaiting him with a very pleasant welcome, and a\nsincere congratulation that he was once more upon his feet. Neither\nhad ever mentioned the duel or the cause of it since that morning upon\nthe field of honor.\n\n\"I think that I have found just the thing for you, Monsieur Tarzan,\"\nsaid the count. \"It is a position of much trust and responsibility,\nwhich also requires considerably physical courage and prowess. I\ncannot imagine a man better fitted than you, my dear Monsieur Tarzan,\nfor this very position. It will necessitate travel, and later it may\nlead to a very much better post--possibly in the diplomatic service.\n\n\"At first, for a short time only, you will be a special agent in the\nservice of the ministry of war. Come, I will take you to the gentleman\nwho will be your chief. He can explain the duties better than I, and\nthen you will be in a position to judge if you wish to accept or no.\"\n\nDe Coude himself escorted Tarzan to the office of General Rochere, the\nchief of the bureau to which Tarzan would be attached if he accepted\nthe position. There the count left him, after a glowing description to\nthe general of the many attributes possessed by the ape-man which\nshould fit him for the work of the service.\n\nA half hour later Tarzan walked out of the office the possessor of the\nfirst position he had ever held. On the morrow he was to return for\nfurther instructions, though General Rochere had made it quite plain\nthat Tarzan might prepare to leave Paris for an almost indefinite\nperiod, possibly on the morrow.\n\nIt was with feelings of the keenest elation that he hastened home to\nbear the good news to D\'Arnot. At last he was to be of some value in\nthe world. He was to earn money, and, best of all, to travel and see\nthe world.\n\nHe could scarcely wait to get well inside D\'Arnot\'s sitting room before\nhe burst out with the glad tidings. D\'Arnot was not so pleased.\n\n\"It seems to delight you to think that you are to leave Paris, and that\nwe shall not see each other for months, perhaps. Tarzan, you are a\nmost ungrateful beast!\" and D\'Arnot laughed.\n\n\"No, Paul; I am a little child. I have a new toy, and I am tickled to\ndeath.\"\n\nAnd so it came that on the following day Tarzan left Paris en route for\nMarseilles and Oran.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 7\n\nThe Dancing Girl of Sidi Aissa\n\n\nTarzan\'s first mission did not bid fair to be either exciting or vastly\nimportant. There was a certain lieutenant of SPAHIS whom the\ngovernment had reason to suspect of improper relations with a great\nEuropean power. This Lieutenant Gernois, who was at present stationed\nat Sidi-bel-Abbes, had recently been attached to the general staff,\nwhere certain information of great military value had come into his\npossession in the ordinary routine of his duties. It was this\ninformation which the government suspected the great power was\nbartering for with the officer.\n\nIt was at most but a vague hint dropped by a certain notorious\nParisienne in a jealous mood that had caused suspicion to rest upon the\nlieutenant. But general staffs are jealous of their secrets, and\ntreason so serious a thing that even a hint of it may not be safely\nneglected. And so it was that Tarzan had come to Algeria in the guise\nof an American hunter and traveler to keep a close eye upon Lieutenant\nGernois.\n\nHe had looked forward with keen delight to again seeing his beloved\nAfrica, but this northern aspect of it was so different from his\ntropical jungle home that he might as well have been back in Paris for\nall the heart thrills of homecoming that he experienced. At Oran he\nspent a day wandering through the narrow, crooked alleys of the Arab\nquarter enjoying the strange, new sights. The next day found him at\nSidi-bel-Abbes, where he presented his letters of introduction to both\ncivil and military authorities--letters which gave no clew to the real\nsignificance of his mission.\n\nTarzan possessed a sufficient command of English to enable him to pass\namong Arabs and Frenchmen as an American, and that was all that was\nrequired of it. When he met an Englishman he spoke French in order\nthat he might not betray himself, but occasionally talked in English to\nforeigners who understood that tongue, but could not note the slight\nimperfections of accent and pronunciation that were his.\n\nHere he became acquainted with many of the French officers, and soon\nbecame a favorite among them. He met Gernois, whom he found to be a\ntaciturn, dyspeptic-looking man of about forty, having little or no\nsocial intercourse with his fellows.\n\nFor a month nothing of moment occurred. Gernois apparently had no\nvisitors, nor did he on his occasional visits to the town hold\ncommunication with any who might even by the wildest flight of\nimagination be construed into secret agents of a foreign power. Tarzan\nwas beginning to hope that, after all, the rumor might have been false,\nwhen suddenly Gernois was ordered to Bou Saada in the Petit Sahara far\nto the south.\n\nA company of SPAHIS and three officers were to relieve another company\nalready stationed there. Fortunately one of the officers, Captain\nGerard, had become an excellent friend of Tarzan\'s, and so when the\nape-man suggested that he should embrace the opportunity of\naccompanying him to Bou Saada, where he expected to find hunting, it\ncaused not the slightest suspicion.\n\nAt Bouira the detachment detrained, and the balance of the journey was\nmade in the saddle. As Tarzan was dickering at Bouira for a mount he\ncaught a brief glimpse of a man in European clothes eying him from the\ndoorway of a native coffeehouse, but as Tarzan looked the man turned\nand entered the little, low-ceilinged mud hut, and but for a haunting\nimpression that there had been something familiar about the face or\nfigure of the fellow, Tarzan gave the matter no further thought.\n\nThe march to Aumale was fatiguing to Tarzan, whose equestrian\nexperiences hitherto had been confined to a course of riding lessons in\na Parisian academy, and so it was that he quickly sought the comforts\nof a bed in the Hotel Grossat, while the officers and troops took up\ntheir quarters at the military post.\n\nAlthough Tarzan was called early the following morning, the company of\nSPAHIS was on the march before he had finished his breakfast. He was\nhurrying through his meal that the soldiers might not get too far in\nadvance of him when he glanced through the door connecting the dining\nroom with the bar.\n\nTo his surprise, he saw Gernois standing there in conversation with the\nvery stranger he had seen in the coffee-house at Bouira the day\nprevious. He could not be mistaken, for there was the same strangely\nfamiliar attitude and figure, though the man\'s back was toward him.\n\nAs his eyes lingered on the two, Gernois looked up and caught the\nintent expression on Tarzan\'s face. The stranger was talking in a low\nwhisper at the time, but the French officer immediately interrupted\nhim, and the two at once turned away and passed out of the range of\nTarzan\'s vision.\n\nThis was the first suspicious occurrence that Tarzan had ever witnessed\nin connection with Gernois\' actions, but he was positive that the men\nhad left the barroom solely because Gernois had caught Tarzan\'s eyes\nupon them; then there was the persistent impression of familiarity\nabout the stranger to further augment the ape-man\'s belief that here at\nlength was something which would bear watching.\n\nA moment later Tarzan entered the barroom, but the men had left, nor\ndid he see aught of them in the street beyond, though he found a\npretext to ride to various shops before he set out after the column\nwhich had now considerable start of him. He did not overtake them\nuntil he reached Sidi Aissa shortly after noon, where the soldiers had\nhalted for an hour\'s rest. Here he found Gernois with the column, but\nthere was no sign of the stranger.\n\nIt was market day at Sidi Aissa, and the numberless caravans of camels\ncoming in from the desert, and the crowds of bickering Arabs in the\nmarket place, filled Tarzan with a consuming desire to remain for a day\nthat he might see more of these sons of the desert. Thus it was that\nthe company of SPAHIS marched on that afternoon toward Bou Saada\nwithout him. He spent the hours until dark wandering about the market\nin company with a youthful Arab, one Abdul, who had been recommended to\nhim by the innkeeper as a trustworthy servant and interpreter.\n\nHere Tarzan purchased a better mount than the one he had selected at\nBouira, and, entering into conversation with the stately Arab to whom\nthe animal had belonged, learned that the seller was Kadour ben Saden,\nsheik of a desert tribe far south of Djelfa. Through Abdul, Tarzan\ninvited his new acquaintance to dine with him. As the three were\nmaking their way through the crowds of marketers, camels, donkeys, and\nhorses that filled the market place with a confusing babel of sounds,\nAbdul plucked at Tarzan\'s sleeve.\n\n\"Look, master, behind us,\" and he turned, pointing at a figure which\ndisappeared behind a camel as Tarzan turned. \"He has been following us\nabout all afternoon,\" continued Abdul.\n\n\"I caught only a glimpse of an Arab in a dark-blue burnoose and white\nturban,\" replied Tarzan. \"Is it he you mean?\"\n\n\"Yes. I suspected him because he seems a stranger here, without other\nbusiness than following us, which is not the way of the Arab who is\nhonest, and also because he keeps the lower part of his face hidden,\nonly his eyes showing. He must be a bad man, or he would have honest\nbusiness of his own to occupy his time.\"\n\n\"He is on the wrong scent then, Abdul,\" replied Tarzan, \"for no one\nhere can have any grievance against me. This is my first visit to your\ncountry, and none knows me. He will soon discover his error, and cease\nto follow us.\"\n\n\"Unless he be bent on robbery,\" returned Abdul.\n\n\"Then all we can do is wait until he is ready to try his hand upon us,\"\nlaughed Tarzan, \"and I warrant that he will get his bellyful of robbing\nnow that we are prepared for him,\" and so he dismissed the subject from\nhis mind, though he was destined to recall it before many hours through\na most unlooked-for occurrence.\n\nKadour ben Saden, having dined well, prepared to take leave of his\nhost. With dignified protestations of friendship, he invited Tarzan to\nvisit him in his wild domain, where the antelope, the stag, the boar,\nthe panther, and the lion might still be found in sufficient numbers to\ntempt an ardent huntsman.\n\nOn his departure the ape-man, with Abdul, wandered again into the\nstreets of Sidi Aissa, where he was soon attracted by the wild din of\nsound coming from the open doorway of one of the numerous CAFES MAURES.\nIt was after eight, and the dancing was in full swing as Tarzan\nentered. The room was filled to repletion with Arabs. All were\nsmoking, and drinking their thick, hot coffee.\n\nTarzan and Abdul found seats near the center of the room, though the\nterrific noise produced by the musicians upon their Arab drums and\npipes would have rendered a seat farther from them more acceptable to\nthe quiet-loving ape-man. A rather good-looking Ouled-Nail was\ndancing, and, perceiving Tarzan\'s European clothes, and scenting a\ngenerous gratuity, she threw her silken handkerchief upon his shoulder,\nto be rewarded with a franc.\n\nWhen her place upon the floor had been taken by another the bright-eyed\nAbdul saw her in conversation with two Arabs at the far side of the\nroom, near a side door that let upon an inner court, around the gallery\nof which were the rooms occupied by the girls who danced in this cafe.\n\nAt first he thought nothing of the matter, but presently he noticed\nfrom the corner of his eye one of the men nod in their direction, and\nthe girl turn and shoot a furtive glance at Tarzan. Then the Arabs\nmelted through the doorway into the darkness of the court.\n\nWhen it came again the girl\'s turn to dance she hovered close to\nTarzan, and for the ape-man alone were her sweetest smiles. Many an\nugly scowl was cast upon the tall European by swarthy, dark-eyed sons\nof the desert, but neither smiles nor scowls produced any outwardly\nvisible effect upon him. Again the girl cast her handkerchief upon his\nshoulder, and again was she rewarded with a franc piece. As she was\nsticking it upon her forehead, after the custom of her kind, she bent\nlow toward Tarzan, whispering a quick word in his ear.\n\n\"There are two without in the court,\" she said quickly, in broken\nFrench, \"who would harm m\'sieur. At first I promised to lure you to\nthem, but you have been kind, and I cannot do it. Go quickly, before\nthey find that I have failed them. I think that they are very bad men.\"\n\nTarzan thanked the girl, assuring her that he would be careful, and,\nhaving finished her dance, she crossed to the little doorway and went\nout into the court. But Tarzan did not leave the cafe as she had urged.\n\nFor another half hour nothing unusual occurred, then a surly-looking\nArab entered the cafe from the street. He stood near Tarzan, where he\ndeliberately made insulting remarks about the European, but as they\nwere in his native tongue Tarzan was entirely innocent of their purport\nuntil Abdul took it upon himself to enlighten him.\n\n\"This fellow is looking for trouble,\" warned Abdul. \"He is not alone.\nIn fact, in case of a disturbance, nearly every man here would be\nagainst you. It would be better to leave quietly, master.\"\n\n\"Ask the fellow what he wants,\" commanded Tarzan.\n\n\"He says that \'the dog of a Christian\' insulted the Ouled-Nail, who\nbelongs to him. He means trouble, m\'sieur.\"\n\n\"Tell him that I did not insult his or any other Ouled-Nail, that I\nwish him to go away and leave me alone. That I have no quarrel with\nhim, nor has he any with me.\"\n\n\"He says,\" replied Abdul, after delivering this message to the Arab,\n\"that besides being a dog yourself that you are the son of one, and\nthat your grandmother was a hyena. Incidentally you are a liar.\"\n\nThe attention of those near by had now been attracted by the\naltercation, and the sneering laughs that followed this torrent of\ninvective easily indicated the trend of the sympathies of the majority\nof the audience.\n\nTarzan did not like being laughed at, neither did he relish the terms\napplied to him by the Arab, but he showed no sign of anger as he arose\nfrom his seat upon the bench. A half smile played about his lips, but\nof a sudden a mighty fist shot into the face of the scowling Arab, and\nback of it were the terrible muscles of the ape-man.\n\nAt the instant that the man fell a half dozen fierce plainsmen sprang\ninto the room from where they had apparently been waiting for their cue\nin the street before the cafe. With cries of \"Kill the unbeliever!\"\nand \"Down with the dog of a Christian!\" they made straight for Tarzan.\nA number of the younger Arabs in the audience sprang to their feet to\njoin in the assault upon the unarmed white man. Tarzan and Abdul were\nrushed back toward the end of the room by the very force of numbers\nopposing them. The young Arab remained loyal to his master, and with\ndrawn knife fought at his side.\n\nWith tremendous blows the ape-man felled all who came within reach of\nhis powerful hands. He fought quietly and without a word, upon his\nlips the same half smile they had worn as he rose to strike down the\nman who had insulted him. It seemed impossible that either he or Abdul\ncould survive the sea of wicked-looking swords and knives that\nsurrounded them, but the very numbers of their assailants proved the\nbest bulwark of their safety. So closely packed was the howling,\ncursing mob that no weapon could be wielded to advantage, and none of\nthe Arabs dared use a firearm for fear of wounding one of his\ncompatriots.\n\nFinally Tarzan succeeded in seizing one of the most persistent of his\nattackers. With a quick wrench he disarmed the fellow, and then,\nholding him before them as a shield, he backed slowly beside Abdul\ntoward the little door which led into the inner courtyard. At the\nthreshold he paused for an instant, and, lifting the struggling Arab\nabove his head, hurled him, as though from a catapult, full in the\nfaces of his on-pressing fellows.\n\nThen Tarzan and Abdul stepped into the semidarkness of the court. The\nfrightened Ouled-Nails were crouching at the tops of the stairs which\nled to their respective rooms, the only light in the courtyard coming\nfrom the sickly candles which each girl had stuck with its own grease\nto the woodwork of her door-frame, the better to display her charms to\nthose who might happen to traverse the dark inclosure.\n\nScarcely had Tarzan and Abdul emerged from the room ere a revolver\nspoke close at their backs from the shadows beneath one of the\nstairways, and as they turned to meet this new antagonist, two muffled\nfigures sprang toward them, firing as they came. Tarzan leaped to meet\nthese two new assailants. The foremost lay, a second later, in the\ntrampled dirt of the court, disarmed and groaning from a broken wrist.\nAbdul\'s knife found the vitals of the second in the instant that the\nfellow\'s revolver missed fire as he held it to the faithful Arab\'s\nforehead.\n\nThe maddened horde within the cafe were now rushing out in pursuit of\ntheir quarry. The Ouled-Nails had extinguished their candles at a cry\nfrom one of their number, and the only light within the yard came\nfeebly from the open and half-blocked door of the cafe. Tarzan had\nseized a sword from the man who had fallen before Abdul\'s knife, and\nnow he stood waiting for the rush of men that was coming in search of\nthem through the darkness.\n\nSuddenly he felt a light hand upon his shoulder from behind, and a\nwoman\'s voice whispering, \"Quick, m\'sieur; this way. Follow me.\"\n\n\"Come, Abdul,\" said Tarzan, in a low tone, to the youth; \"we can be no\nworse off elsewhere than we are here.\"\n\nThe woman turned and led them up the narrow stairway that ended at the\ndoor of her quarters. Tarzan was close beside her. He saw the gold\nand silver bracelets upon her bare arms, the strings of gold coin that\ndepended from her hair ornaments, and the gorgeous colors of her dress.\nHe saw that she was a Ouled-Nail, and instinctively he knew that she\nwas the same who had whispered the warning in his ear earlier in the\nevening.\n\nAs they reached the top of the stairs they could hear the angry crowd\nsearching the yard beneath.\n\n\"Soon they will search here,\" whispered the girl. \"They must not find\nyou, for, though you fight with the strength of many men, they will\nkill you in the end. Hasten; you can drop from the farther window of\nmy room to the street beyond. Before they discover that you are no\nlonger in the court of the buildings you will be safe within the hotel.\"\n\nBut even as she spoke, several men had started up the stairway at the\nhead of which they stood. There was a sudden cry from one of the\nsearchers. They had been discovered. Quickly the crowd rushed for the\nstairway. The foremost assailant leaped quickly upward, but at the top\nhe met the sudden sword that he had not expected--the quarry had been\nunarmed before.\n\nWith a cry, the man toppled back upon those behind him. Like tenpins\nthey rolled down the stairs. The ancient and rickety structure could\nnot withstand the strain of this unwonted weight and jarring. With a\ncreaking and rending of breaking wood it collapsed beneath the Arabs,\nleaving Tarzan, Abdul, and the girl alone upon the frail platform at\nthe top.\n\n\"Come!\" cried the Ouled-Nail. \"They will reach us from another\nstairway through the room next to mine. We have not a moment to spare.\"\n\nJust as they were entering the room Abdul heard and translated a cry\nfrom the yard below for several to hasten to the street and cut off\nescape from that side.\n\n\"We are lost now,\" said the girl simply.\n\n\"We?\" questioned Tarzan.\n\n\"Yes, m\'sieur,\" she responded; \"they will kill me as well. Have I not\naided you?\"\n\nThis put a different aspect on the matter. Tarzan had rather been\nenjoying the excitement and danger of the encounter. He had not for an\ninstant supposed that either Abdul or the girl could suffer except\nthrough accident, and he had only retreated just enough to keep from\nbeing killed himself. He had had no intention of running away until he\nsaw that he was hopelessly lost were he to remain.\n\nAlone he could have sprung into the midst of that close-packed mob,\nand, laying about him after the fashion of Numa, the lion, have struck\nthe Arabs with such consternation that escape would have been easy.\nNow he must think entirely of these two faithful friends.\n\nHe crossed to the window which overlooked the street. In a minute\nthere would be enemies below. Already he could hear the mob clambering\nthe stairway to the next quarters--they would be at the door beside him\nin another instant. He put a foot upon the sill and leaned out, but he\ndid not look down. Above him, within arm\'s reach, was the low roof of\nthe building. He called to the girl. She came and stood beside him.\nHe put a great arm about her and lifted her across his shoulder.\n\n\"Wait here until I reach down for you from above,\" he said to Abdul.\n\"In the meantime shove everything in the room against that door--it may\ndelay them long enough.\" Then he stepped to the sill of the narrow\nwindow with the girl upon his shoulders. \"Hold tight,\" he cautioned\nher. A moment later he had clambered to the roof above with the ease\nand dexterity of an ape. Setting the girl down, he leaned far over the\nroof\'s edge, calling softly to Abdul. The youth ran to the window.\n\n\"Your hand,\" whispered Tarzan. The men in the room beyond were\nbattering at the door. With a sudden crash it fell splintering in, and\nat the same instant Abdul felt himself lifted like a feather onto the\nroof above. They were not a moment too soon, for as the men broke into\nthe room which they had just quitted a dozen more rounded the corner in\nthe street below and came running to a spot beneath the girl\'s window.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 8\n\nThe Fight in the Desert\n\n\nAs the three squatted upon the roof above the quarters of the\nOuled-Nails they heard the angry cursing of the Arabs in the room\nbeneath. Abdul translated from time to time to Tarzan.\n\n\"They are berating those in the street below now,\" said Abdul, \"for\npermitting us to escape so easily. Those in the street say that we did\nnot come that way--that we are still within the building, and that\nthose above, being too cowardly to attack us, are attempting to deceive\nthem into believing that we have escaped. In a moment they will have\nfighting of their own to attend to if they continue their brawling.\"\n\nPresently those in the building gave up the search, and returned to the\ncafe. A few remained in the street below, smoking and talking.\n\nTarzan spoke to the girl, thanking her for the sacrifice she had made\nfor him, a total stranger.\n\n\"I liked you,\" she said simply. \"You were unlike the others who come\nto the cafe. You did not speak coarsely to me--the manner in which you\ngave me money was not an insult.\"\n\n\"What shall you do after tonight?\" he asked. \"You cannot return to the\ncafe. Can you even remain with safety in Sidi Aissa?\"\n\n\"Tomorrow it will be forgotten,\" she replied. \"But I should be glad if\nit might be that I need never return to this or another cafe. I have\nnot remained because I wished to; I have been a prisoner.\"\n\n\"A prisoner!\" ejaculated Tarzan incredulously.\n\n\"A slave would be the better word,\" she answered. \"I was stolen in the\nnight from my father\'s DOUAR by a band of marauders. They brought me\nhere and sold me to the Arab who keeps this cafe. It has been nearly\ntwo years now since I saw the last of mine own people. They are very\nfar to the south. They never come to Sidi Aissa.\"\n\n\"You would like to return to your people?\" asked Tarzan. \"Then I shall\npromise to see you safely so far as Bou Saada at least. There we can\ndoubtless arrange with the commandant to send you the rest of the way.\"\n\n\"Oh, m\'sieur,\" she cried, \"how can I ever repay you! You cannot really\nmean that you will do so much for a poor Ouled-Nail. But my father can\nreward you, and he will, for is he not a great sheik? He is Kadour ben\nSaden.\"\n\n\"Kadour ben Saden!\" ejaculated Tarzan. \"Why, Kadour ben Saden is in\nSidi Aissa this very night. He dined with me but a few hours since.\"\n\n\"My father in Sidi Aissa?\" cried the amazed girl. \"Allah be praised\nthen, for I am indeed saved.\"\n\n\"Hssh!\" cautioned Abdul. \"Listen.\"\n\nFrom below came the sound of voices, quite distinguishable upon the\nstill night air. Tarzan could not understand the words, but Abdul and\nthe girl translated.\n\n\"They have gone now,\" said the latter. \"It is you they want, m\'sieur.\nOne of them said that the stranger who had offered money for your\nslaying lay in the house of Akmed din Soulef with a broken wrist, but\nthat he had offered a still greater reward if some would lay in wait\nfor you upon the road to Bou Saada and kill you.\"\n\n\"It is he who followed m\'sieur about the market today,\" exclaimed\nAbdul. \"I saw him again within the cafe--him and another; and the two\nwent out into the inner court after talking with this girl here. It\nwas they who attacked and fired upon us, as we came out of the cafe.\nWhy do they wish to kill you, m\'sieur?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied Tarzan, and then, after a pause: \"Unless--\"\nBut he did not finish, for the thought that had come to his mind, while\nit seemed the only reasonable solution of the mystery, appeared at the\nsame time quite improbable. Presently the men in the street went away.\nThe courtyard and the cafe were deserted. Cautiously Tarzan lowered\nhimself to the sill of the girl\'s window. The room was empty. He\nreturned to the roof and let Abdul down, then he lowered the girl to\nthe arms of the waiting Arab.\n\nFrom the window Abdul dropped the short distance to the street below,\nwhile Tarzan took the girl in his arms and leaped down as he had done\non so many other occasions in his own forest with a burden in his arms.\nA little cry of alarm was startled from the girl\'s lips, but Tarzan\nlanded in the street with but an imperceptible jar, and lowered her in\nsafety to her feet.\n\nShe clung to him for a moment.\n\n\"How strong m\'sieur is, and how active,\" she cried. \"EL ADREA, the\nblack lion, himself is not more so.\"\n\n\"I should like to meet this EL ADREA of yours,\" he said. \"I have heard\nmuch about him.\"\n\n\"And you come to the DOUAR of my father you shall see him,\" said the\ngirl. \"He lives in a spur of the mountains north of us, and comes down\nfrom his lair at night to rob my father\'s DOUAR. With a single blow of\nhis mighty paw he crushes the skull of a bull, and woe betide the\nbelated wayfarer who meets EL ADREA abroad at night.\"\n\nWithout further mishap they reached the hotel. The sleepy landlord\nobjected strenuously to instituting a search for Kadour ben Saden until\nthe following morning, but a piece of gold put a different aspect on\nthe matter, so that a few moments later a servant had started to make\nthe rounds of the lesser native hostelries where it might be expected\nthat a desert sheik would find congenial associations. Tarzan had felt\nit necessary to find the girl\'s father that night, for fear he might\nstart on his homeward journey too early in the morning to be\nintercepted.\n\nThey had waited perhaps half an hour when the messenger returned with\nKadour ben Saden. The old sheik entered the room with a questioning\nexpression upon his proud face.\n\n\"Monsieur has done me the honor to--\" he commenced, and then his eyes\nfell upon the girl. With outstretched arms he crossed the room to meet\nher. \"My daughter!\" he cried. \"Allah is merciful!\" and tears dimmed\nthe martial eyes of the old warrior.\n\nWhen the story of her abduction and her final rescue had been told to\nKadour ben Saden he extended his hand to Tarzan.\n\n\"All that is Kadour ben Saden\'s is thine, my friend, even to his life,\"\nhe said very simply, but Tarzan knew that those were no idle words.\n\nIt was decided that although three of them would have to ride after\npractically no sleep, it would be best to make an early start in the\nmorning, and attempt to ride all the way to Bou Saada in one day. It\nwould have been comparatively easy for the men, but for the girl it was\nsure to be a fatiguing journey.\n\nShe, however, was the most anxious to undertake it, for it seemed to\nher that she could not quickly enough reach the family and friends from\nwhom she had been separated for two years.\n\nIt seemed to Tarzan that he had not closed his eyes before he was\nawakened, and in another hour the party was on its way south toward Bou\nSaada. For a few miles the road was good, and they made rapid\nprogress, but suddenly it became only a waste of sand, into which the\nhorses sank fetlock deep at nearly every step. In addition to Tarzan,\nAbdul, the sheik, and his daughter were four of the wild plainsmen of\nthe sheik\'s tribe who had accompanied him upon the trip to Sidi Aissa.\nThus, seven guns strong, they entertained little fear of attack by day,\nand if all went well they should reach Bou Saada before nightfall.\n\nA brisk wind enveloped them in the blowing sand of the desert, until\nTarzan\'s lips were parched and cracked. What little he could see of\nthe surrounding country was far from alluring--a vast expanse of rough\ncountry, rolling in little, barren hillocks, and tufted here and there\nwith clumps of dreary shrub. Far to the south rose the dim lines of\nthe Saharan Atlas range. How different, thought Tarzan, from the\ngorgeous Africa of his boyhood!\n\nAbdul, always on the alert, looked backward quite as often as he did\nahead. At the top of each hillock that they mounted he would draw in\nhis horse and, turning, scan the country to the rear with utmost care.\nAt last his scrutiny was rewarded.\n\n\"Look!\" he cried. \"There are six horsemen behind us.\"\n\n\"Your friends of last evening, no doubt, monsieur,\" remarked Kadour ben\nSaden dryly to Tarzan.\n\n\"No doubt,\" replied the ape-man. \"I am sorry that my society should\nendanger the safety of your journey. At the next village I shall\nremain and question these gentlemen, while you ride on. There is no\nnecessity for my being at Bou Saada tonight, and less still why you\nshould not ride in peace.\"\n\n\"If you stop we shall stop,\" said Kadour ben Saden. \"Until you are\nsafe with your friends, or the enemy has left your trail, we shall\nremain with you. There is nothing more to say.\"\n\nTarzan nodded his head. He was a man of few words, and possibly it was\nfor this reason as much as any that Kadour ben Saden had taken to him,\nfor if there be one thing that an Arab despises it is a talkative man.\n\nAll the balance of the day Abdul caught glimpses of the horsemen in\ntheir rear. They remained always at about the same distance. During\nthe occasional halts for rest, and at the longer halt at noon, they\napproached no closer.\n\n\"They are waiting for darkness,\" said Kadour ben Saden.\n\nAnd darkness came before they reached Bou Saada. The last glimpse that\nAbdul had of the grim, white-robed figures that trailed them, just\nbefore dusk made it impossible to distinguish them, had made it\napparent that they were rapidly closing up the distance that intervened\nbetween them and their intended quarry. He whispered this fact to\nTarzan, for he did not wish to alarm the girl. The ape-man drew back\nbeside him.\n\n\"You will ride ahead with the others, Abdul,\" said Tarzan. \"This is my\nquarrel. I shall wait at the next convenient spot, and interview these\nfellows.\"\n\n\"Then Abdul shall wait at thy side,\" replied the young Arab, nor would\nany threats or commands move him from his decision.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" replied Tarzan. \"Here is as good a place as we\ncould wish. Here are rocks at the top of this hillock. We shall\nremain hidden here and give an account of ourselves to these gentlemen\nwhen they appear.\"\n\nThey drew in their horses and dismounted. The others riding ahead were\nalready out of sight in the darkness. Beyond them shone the lights of\nBou Saada. Tarzan removed his rifle from its boot and loosened his\nrevolver in its holster. He ordered Abdul to withdraw behind the rocks\nwith the horses, so that they should be shielded from the enemies\'\nbullets should they fire. The young Arab pretended to do as he was\nbid, but when he had fastened the two animals securely to a low shrub\nhe crept back to lie on his belly a few paces behind Tarzan.\n\nThe ape-man stood erect in the middle of the road, waiting. Nor did he\nhave long to wait. The sound of galloping horses came suddenly out of\nthe darkness below him, and a moment later he discerned the moving\nblotches of lighter color against the solid background of the night.\n\n\"Halt,\" he cried, \"or we fire!\"\n\nThe white figures came to a sudden stop, and for a moment there was\nsilence. Then came the sound of a whispered council, and like ghosts\nthe phantom riders dispersed in all directions. Again the desert lay\nstill about him, yet it was an ominous stillness that foreboded evil.\n\nAbdul raised himself to one knee. Tarzan cocked his jungle-trained\nears, and presently there came to him the sound of horses walking\nquietly through the sand to the east of him, to the west, to the north,\nand to the south. They had been surrounded. Then a shot came from the\ndirection in which he was looking, a bullet whirred through the air\nabove his head, and he fired at the flash of the enemy\'s gun.\n\nInstantly the soundless waste was torn with the quick staccato of guns\nupon every hand. Abdul and Tarzan fired only at the flashes--they\ncould not yet see their foemen. Presently it became evident that the\nattackers were circling their position, drawing closer and closer in as\nthey began to realize the paltry numbers of the party which opposed\nthem.\n\nBut one came too close, for Tarzan was accustomed to using his eyes in\nthe darkness of the jungle night, than which there is no more utter\ndarkness this side the grave, and with a cry of pain a saddle was\nemptied.\n\n\"The odds are evening, Abdul,\" said Tarzan, with a low laugh.\n\nBut they were still far too one-sided, and when the five remaining\nhorsemen whirled at a signal and charged full upon them it looked as if\nthere would be a sudden ending of the battle. Both Tarzan and Abdul\nsprang to the shelter of the rocks, that they might keep the enemy in\nfront of them. There was a mad clatter of galloping hoofs, a volley of\nshots from both sides, and the Arabs withdrew to repeat the maneuver;\nbut there were now only four against the two.\n\nFor a few moments there came no sound from out of the surrounding\nblackness. Tarzan could not tell whether the Arabs, satisfied with\ntheir losses, had given up the fight, or were waiting farther along the\nroad to waylay them as they proceeded on toward Bou Saada. But he was\nnot left long in doubt, for now all from one direction came the sound\nof a new charge. But scarcely had the first gun spoken ere a dozen\nshots rang out behind the Arabs. There came the wild shouts of a new\nparty to the controversy, and the pounding of the feet of many horses\nfrom down the road to Bou Saada.\n\nThe Arabs did not wait to learn the identity of the oncomers. With a\nparting volley as they dashed by the position which Tarzan and Abdul\nwere holding, they plunged off along the road toward Sidi Aissa. A\nmoment later Kadour ben Saden and his men dashed up.\n\nThe old sheik was much relieved to find that neither Tarzan nor Abdul\nhad received a scratch. Not even had their horses been wounded. They\nsought out the two men who had fallen before Tarzan\'s shots, and,\nfinding that both were dead, left them where they lay.\n\n\"Why did you not tell me that you contemplated ambushing those\nfellows?\" asked the sheik in a hurt tone. \"We might have had them all\nif the seven of us had stopped to meet them.\"\n\n\"Then it would have been useless to stop at all,\" replied Tarzan, \"for\nhad we simply ridden on toward Bou Saada they would have been upon us\npresently, and all could have been engaged. It was to prevent the\ntransfer of my own quarrel to another\'s shoulders that Abdul and I\nstopped off to question them. Then there is your daughter--I could not\nbe the cause of exposing her needlessly to the marksmanship of six men.\"\n\nKadour ben Saden shrugged his shoulders. He did not relish having been\ncheated out of a fight.\n\nThe little battle so close to Bou Saada had drawn out a company of\nsoldiers. Tarzan and his party met them just outside the town. The\nofficer in charge halted them to learn the significance of the shots.\n\n\"A handful of marauders,\" replied Kadour ben Saden. \"They attacked two\nof our number who had dropped behind, but when we returned to them the\nfellows soon dispersed. They left two dead. None of my party was\ninjured.\"\n\nThis seemed to satisfy the officer, and after taking the names of the\nparty he marched his men on toward the scene of the skirmish to bring\nback the dead men for purposes of identification, if possible.\n\nTwo days later, Kadour ben Saden, with his daughter and followers, rode\nsouth through the pass below Bou Saada, bound for their home in the far\nwilderness. The sheik had urged Tarzan to accompany him, and the girl\nhad added her entreaties to those of her father; but, though he could\nnot explain it to them, Tarzan\'s duties loomed particularly large after\nthe happenings of the past few days, so that he could not think of\nleaving his post for an instant. But he promised to come later if it\nlay within his power to do so, and they had to content themselves with\nthat assurance.\n\nDuring these two days Tarzan had spent practically all his time with\nKadour ben Saden and his daughter. He was keenly interested in this\nrace of stern and dignified warriors, and embraced the opportunity\nwhich their friendship offered to learn what he could of their lives\nand customs. He even commenced to acquire the rudiments of their\nlanguage under the pleasant tutorage of the brown-eyed girl. It was\nwith real regret that he saw them depart, and he sat his horse at the\nopening to the pass, as far as which he had accompanied them, gazing\nafter the little party as long as he could catch a glimpse of them.\n\nHere were people after his own heart! Their wild, rough lives, filled\nwith danger and hardship, appealed to this half-savage man as nothing\nhad appealed to him in the midst of the effeminate civilization of the\ngreat cities he had visited. Here was a life that excelled even that\nof the jungle, for here he might have the society of men--real men whom\nhe could honor and respect, and yet be near to the wild nature that he\nloved. In his head revolved an idea that when he had completed his\nmission he would resign and return to live for the remainder of his\nlife with the tribe of Kadour ben Saden.\n\nThen he turned his horse\'s head and rode slowly back to Bou Saada.\n\nThe front of the Hotel du Petit Sahara, where Tarzan stopped in Bou\nSaada, is taken up with the bar, two dining-rooms, and the kitchens.\nBoth of the dining-rooms open directly off the bar, and one of them is\nreserved for the use of the officers of the garrison. As you stand in\nthe barroom you may look into either of the dining-rooms if you wish.\n\nIt was to the bar that Tarzan repaired after speeding Kadour ben Saden\nand his party on their way. It was yet early in the morning, for\nKadour ben Saden had elected to ride far that day, so that it happened\nthat when Tarzan returned there were guests still at breakfast.\n\nAs his casual glance wandered into the officers\' dining-room, Tarzan\nsaw something which brought a look of interest to his eyes. Lieutenant\nGernois was sitting there, and as Tarzan looked a white-robed Arab\napproached and, bending, whispered a few words into the lieutenant\'s\near. Then he passed on out of the building through another door.\n\nIn itself the thing was nothing, but as the man had stooped to speak to\nthe officer, Tarzan had caught sight of something which the accidental\nparting of the man\'s burnoose had revealed--he carried his left arm in\na sling.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 9\n\nNuma \"El Adrea\"\n\n\nOn the same day that Kadour ben Saden rode south the diligence from the\nnorth brought Tarzan a letter from D\'Arnot which had been forwarded\nfrom Sidi-bel-Abbes. It opened the old wound that Tarzan would have\nbeen glad to have forgotten; yet he was not sorry that D\'Arnot had\nwritten, for one at least of his subjects could never cease to interest\nthe ape-man. Here is the letter:\n\nMY DEAR JEAN:\n\nSince last I wrote you I have been across to London on a matter of\nbusiness. I was there but three days. The very first day I came upon\nan old friend of yours--quite unexpectedly--in Henrietta Street. Now\nyou never in the world would guess whom. None other than Mr. Samuel T.\nPhilander. But it is true. I can see your look of incredulity. Nor\nis this all. He insisted that I return to the hotel with him, and\nthere I found the others--Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, Miss Porter,\nand that enormous black woman, Miss Porter\'s maid--Esmeralda, you will\nrecall. While I was there Clayton came in. They are to be married\nsoon, or rather sooner, for I rather suspect that we shall receive\nannouncements almost any day. On account of his father\'s death it is\nto be a very quiet affair--only blood relatives.\n\nWhile I was alone with Mr. Philander the old fellow became rather\nconfidential. Said Miss Porter had already postponed the wedding on\nthree different occasions. He confided that it appeared to him that\nshe was not particularly anxious to marry Clayton at all; but this time\nit seems that it is quite likely to go through.\n\nOf course they all asked after you, but I respected your wishes in the\nmatter of your true origin, and only spoke to them of your present\naffairs.\n\nMiss Porter was especially interested in everything I had to say about\nyou, and asked many questions. I am afraid I took a rather\nunchivalrous delight in picturing your desire and resolve to go back\neventually to your native jungle. I was sorry afterward, for it did\nseem to cause her real anguish to contemplate the awful dangers to\nwhich you wished to return. \"And yet,\" she said, \"I do not know.\nThere are more unhappy fates than the grim and terrible jungle presents\nto Monsieur Tarzan. At least his conscience will be free from remorse.\nAnd there are moments of quiet and restfulness by day, and vistas of\nexquisite beauty. You may find it strange that I should say it, who\nexperienced such terrifying experiences in that frightful forest, yet\nat times I long to return, for I cannot but feel that the happiest\nmoments of my life were spent there.\"\n\nThere was an expression of ineffable sadness on her face as she spoke,\nand I could not but feel that she knew that I knew her secret, and that\nthis was her way of transmitting to you a last tender message from a\nheart that might still enshrine your memory, though its possessor\nbelonged to another.\n\nClayton appeared nervous and ill at ease while you were the subject of\nconversation. He wore a worried and harassed expression. Yet he was\nvery kindly in his expressions of interest in you. I wonder if he\nsuspects the truth about you?\n\nTennington came in with Clayton. They are great friends, you know. He\nis about to set out upon one of his interminable cruises in that yacht\nof his, and was urging the entire party to accompany him. Tried to\ninveigle me into it, too. Is thinking of circumnavigating Africa this\ntime. I told him that his precious toy would take him and some of his\nfriends to the bottom of the ocean one of these days if he didn\'t get\nit out of his head that she was a liner or a battleship.\n\nI returned to Paris day before yesterday, and yesterday I met the Count\nand Countess de Coude at the races. They inquired after you. De Coude\nreally seems quite fond of you. Doesn\'t appear to harbor the least ill\nwill. Olga is as beautiful as ever, but a trifle subdued. I imagine\nthat she learned a lesson through her acquaintance with you that will\nserve her in good stead during the balance of her life. It is\nfortunate for her, and for De Coude as well, that it was you and not\nanother man more sophisticated.\n\nHad you really paid court to Olga\'s heart I am afraid that there would\nhave been no hope for either of you.\n\nShe asked me to tell you that Nikolas had left France. She paid him\ntwenty thousand francs to go away, and stay. She is congratulating\nherself that she got rid of him before he tried to carry out a threat\nhe recently made her that he should kill you at the first opportunity.\nShe said that she should hate to think that her brother\'s blood was on\nyour hands, for she is very fond of you, and made no bones in saying so\nbefore the count. It never for a moment seemed to occur to her that\nthere might be any possibility of any other outcome of a meeting\nbetween you and Nikolas. The count quite agreed with her in that. He\nadded that it would take a regiment of Rokoffs to kill you. He has a\nmost healthy respect for your prowess.\n\nHave been ordered back to my ship. She sails from Havre in two days\nunder sealed orders. If you will address me in her care, the letters\nwill find me eventually. I shall write you as soon as another\nopportunity presents.\n\n Your sincere friend,\n PAUL D\'ARNOT.\n\n\n\"I fear,\" mused Tarzan, half aloud, \"that Olga has thrown away her\ntwenty thousand francs.\"\n\nHe read over that part of D\'Arnot\'s letter several times in which he\nhad quoted from his conversation with Jane Porter. Tarzan derived a\nrather pathetic happiness from it, but it was better than no happiness\nat all.\n\nThe following three weeks were quite uneventful. On several occasions\nTarzan saw the mysterious Arab, and once again he had been exchanging\nwords with Lieutenant Gernois; but no amount of espionage or shadowing\nby Tarzan revealed the Arab\'s lodgings, the location of which Tarzan\nwas anxious to ascertain.\n\nGernois, never cordial, had kept more than ever aloof from Tarzan since\nthe episode in the dining-room of the hotel at Aumale. His attitude on\nthe few occasions that they had been thrown together had been\ndistinctly hostile.\n\nThat he might keep up the appearance of the character he was playing,\nTarzan spent considerable time hunting in the vicinity of Bou Saada.\nHe would spend entire days in the foothills, ostensibly searching for\ngazelle, but on the few occasions that he came close enough to any of\nthe beautiful little animals to harm them he invariably allowed them to\nescape without so much as taking his rifle from its boot. The ape-man\ncould see no sport in slaughtering the most harmless and defenseless of\nGod\'s creatures for the mere pleasure of killing.\n\nIn fact, Tarzan had never killed for \"pleasure,\" nor to him was there\npleasure in killing. It was the joy of righteous battle that he\nloved--the ecstasy of victory. And the keen and successful hunt for\nfood in which he pitted his skill and craftiness against the skill and\ncraftiness of another; but to come out of a town filled with food to\nshoot down a soft-eyed, pretty gazelle--ah, that was crueller than the\ndeliberate and cold-blooded murder of a fellow man. Tarzan would have\nnone of it, and so he hunted alone that none might discover the sham\nthat he was practicing.\n\nAnd once, probably because of the fact that he rode alone, he was like\nto have lost his life. He was riding slowly through a little ravine\nwhen a shot sounded close behind him, and a bullet passed through the\ncork helmet he wore. Although he turned at once and galloped rapidly\nto the top of the ravine, there was no sign of any enemy, nor did he\nsee aught of another human being until he reached Bou Saada.\n\n\"Yes,\" he soliloquized, in recalling the occurrence, \"Olga has indeed\nthrown away her twenty thousand francs.\"\n\nThat night he was Captain Gerard\'s guest at a little dinner.\n\n\"Your hunting has not been very fortunate?\" questioned the officer.\n\n\"No,\" replied Tarzan; \"the game hereabout is timid, nor do I care\nparticularly about hunting game birds or antelope. I think I shall\nmove on farther south, and have a try at some of your Algerian lions.\"\n\n\"Good!\" exclaimed the captain. \"We are marching toward Djelfa on the\nmorrow. You shall have company that far at least. Lieutenant Gernois\nand I, with a hundred men, are ordered south to patrol a district in\nwhich the marauders are giving considerable trouble. Possibly we may\nhave the pleasure of hunting the lion together--what say you?\"\n\nTarzan was more than pleased, nor did he hesitate to say so; but the\ncaptain would have been astonished had he known the real reason of\nTarzan\'s pleasure. Gernois was sitting opposite the ape-man. He did\nnot seem so pleased with his captain\'s invitation.\n\n\"You will find lion hunting more exciting than gazelle shooting,\"\nremarked Captain Gerard, \"and more dangerous.\"\n\n\"Even gazelle shooting has its dangers,\" replied Tarzan. \"Especially\nwhen one goes alone. I found it so today. I also found that while the\ngazelle is the most timid of animals, it is not the most cowardly.\"\n\nHe let his glance rest only casually upon Gernois after he had spoken,\nfor he did not wish the man to know that he was under suspicion, or\nsurveillance, no matter what he might think. The effect of his remark\nupon him, however, might tend to prove his connection with, or\nknowledge of, certain recent happenings. Tarzan saw a dull red creep\nup from beneath Gernois\' collar. He was satisfied, and quickly changed\nthe subject.\n\nWhen the column rode south from Bou Saada the next morning there were\nhalf a dozen Arabs bringing up the rear.\n\n\"They are not attached to the command,\" replied Gerard in response to\nTarzan\'s query. \"They merely accompany us on the road for\ncompanionship.\"\n\nTarzan had learned enough about Arab character since he had been in\nAlgeria to know that this was no real motive, for the Arab is never\noverfond of the companionship of strangers, and especially of French\nsoldiers. So his suspicions were aroused, and he decided to keep a\nsharp eye on the little party that trailed behind the column at a\ndistance of about a quarter of a mile. But they did not come close\nenough even during the halts to enable him to obtain a close scrutiny\nof them.\n\nHe had long been convinced that there were hired assassins on his\ntrail, nor was he in great doubt but that Rokoff was at the bottom of\nthe plot. Whether it was to be revenge for the several occasions in\nthe past that Tarzan had defeated the Russian\'s purposes and humiliated\nhim, or was in some way connected with his mission in the Gernois\naffair, he could not determine. If the latter, and it seemed probable\nsince the evidence he had had that Gernois suspected him, then he had\ntwo rather powerful enemies to contend with, for there would be many\nopportunities in the wilds of Algeria, for which they were bound, to\ndispatch a suspected enemy quietly and without attracting suspicion.\n\nAfter camping at Djelfa for two days the column moved to the southwest,\nfrom whence word had come that the marauders were operating against the\ntribes whose DOUARS were situated at the foot of the mountains.\n\nThe little band of Arabs who had accompanied them from Bou Saada had\ndisappeared suddenly the very night that orders had been given to\nprepare for the morrow\'s march from Djelfa. Tarzan made casual\ninquiries among the men, but none could tell him why they had left, or\nin what direction they had gone. He did not like the looks of it,\nespecially in view of the fact that he had seen Gernois in conversation\nwith one of them some half hour after Captain Gerard had issued his\ninstructions relative to the new move. Only Gernois and Tarzan knew\nthe direction of the proposed march. All the soldiers knew was that\nthey were to be prepared to break camp early the next morning. Tarzan\nwondered if Gernois could have revealed their destination to the Arabs.\n\nLate that afternoon they went into camp at a little oasis in which was\nthe DOUAR of a sheik whose flocks were being stolen, and whose herdsmen\nwere being killed. The Arabs came out of their goatskin tents, and\nsurrounded the soldiers, asking many questions in the native tongue,\nfor the soldiers were themselves natives. Tarzan, who, by this time,\nwith the assistance of Abdul, had picked up quite a smattering of Arab,\nquestioned one of the younger men who had accompanied the sheik while\nthe latter paid his respects to Captain Gerard.\n\nNo, he had seen no party of six horsemen riding from the direction of\nDjelfa. There were other oases scattered about--possibly they had been\njourneying to one of these. Then there were the marauders in the\nmountains above--they often rode north to Bou Saada in small parties,\nand even as far as Aumale and Bouira. It might indeed have been a few\nmarauders returning to the band from a pleasure trip to one of these\ncities.\n\nEarly the next morning Captain Gerard split his command in two, giving\nLieutenant Gernois command of one party, while he headed the other.\nThey were to scour the mountains upon opposite sides of the plain.\n\n\"And with which detachment will Monsieur Tarzan ride?\" asked the\ncaptain. \"Or maybe it is that monsieur does not care to hunt\nmarauders?\"\n\n\"Oh, I shall be delighted to go,\" Tarzan hastened to explain. He was\nwondering what excuse he could make to accompany Gernois. His\nembarrassment was short-lived, and was relieved from a most unexpected\nsource. It was Gernois himself who spoke.\n\n\"If my captain will forego the pleasure of Monsieur Tarzan\'s company\nfor this once, I shall esteem it an honor indeed to have monsieur ride\nwith me today,\" he said, nor was his tone lacking in cordiality. In\nfact, Tarzan imagined that he had overdone it a trifle, but, even so,\nhe was both astounded and pleased, hastening to express his delight at\nthe arrangement.\n\nAnd so it was that Lieutenant Gernois and Tarzan rode off side by side\nat the head of the little detachment of SPAHIS. Gernois\' cordiality\nwas short-lived. No sooner had they ridden out of sight of Captain\nGerard and his men than he lapsed once more into his accustomed\ntaciturnity. As they advanced the ground became rougher. Steadily it\nascended toward the mountains, into which they filed through a narrow\ncanon close to noon. By the side of a little rivulet Gernois called\nthe midday halt. Here the men prepared and ate their frugal meal, and\nrefilled their canteens.\n\nAfter an hour\'s rest they advanced again along the canon, until they\npresently came to a little valley, from which several rocky gorges\ndiverged. Here they halted, while Gernois minutely examined the\nsurrounding heights from the center of the depression.\n\n\"We shall separate here,\" he said, \"several riding into each of these\ngorges,\" and then he commenced to detail his various squads and issue\ninstructions to the non-commissioned officers who were to command them.\nWhen he had done he turned to Tarzan. \"Monsieur will be so good as to\nremain here until we return.\"\n\nTarzan demurred, but the officer cut him short. \"There may be fighting\nfor one of these sections,\" he said, \"and troops cannot be embarrassed\nby civilian noncombatants during action.\"\n\n\"But, my dear lieutenant,\" expostulated Tarzan, \"I am most ready and\nwilling to place myself under command of yourself or any of your\nsergeants or corporals, and to fight in the ranks as they direct. It\nis what I came for.\"\n\n\"I should be glad to think so,\" retorted Gernois, with a sneer he made\nno attempt to disguise. Then shortly: \"You are under my orders, and\nthey are that you remain here until we return. Let that end the\nmatter,\" and he turned and spurred away at the head of his men. A\nmoment later Tarzan found himself alone in the midst of a desolate\nmountain fastness.\n\nThe sun was hot, so he sought the shelter of a nearby tree, where he\ntethered his horse, and sat down upon the ground to smoke. Inwardly he\nswore at Gernois for the trick he had played upon him. A mean little\nrevenge, thought Tarzan, and then suddenly it occurred to him that the\nman would not be such a fool as to antagonize him through a trivial\nannoyance of so petty a description. There must be something deeper\nthan this behind it. With the thought he arose and removed his rifle\nfrom its boot. He looked to its loads and saw that the magazine was\nfull. Then he inspected his revolver. After this preliminary\nprecaution he scanned the surrounding heights and the mouths of the\nseveral gorges--he was determined that he should not be caught napping.\n\nThe sun sank lower and lower, yet there was no sign of returning\nSPAHIS. At last the valley was submerged in shadow Tarzan was too\nproud to go back to camp until he had given the detachment ample time\nto return to the valley, which he thought was to have been their\nrendezvous. With the closing in of night he felt safer from attack,\nfor he was at home in the dark. He knew that none might approach him\nso cautiously as to elude those alert and sensitive ears of his; then\nthere were his eyes, too, for he could see well at night; and his nose,\nif they came toward him from up-wind, would apprise him of the approach\nof an enemy while they were still a great way off.\n\nSo he felt that he was in little danger, and thus lulled to a sense of\nsecurity he fell asleep, with his back against the tree.\n\nHe must have slept for several hours, for when he was suddenly awakened\nby the frightened snorting and plunging of his horse the moon was\nshining full upon the little valley, and there, not ten paces before\nhim, stood the grim cause of the terror of his mount.\n\nSuperb, majestic, his graceful tail extended and quivering, and his two\neyes of fire riveted full upon his prey, stood Numa EL ADREA, the black\nlion. A little thrill of joy tingled through Tarzan\'s nerves. It was\nlike meeting an old friend after years of separation. For a moment he\nsat rigid to enjoy the magnificent spectacle of this lord of the\nwilderness.\n\nBut now Numa was crouching for the spring. Very slowly Tarzan raised\nhis gun to his shoulder. He had never killed a large animal with a gun\nin all his life--heretofore he had depended upon his spear, his\npoisoned arrows, his rope, his knife, or his bare hands. Instinctively\nhe wished that he had his arrows and his knife--he would have felt\nsurer with them.\n\nNuma was lying quite flat upon the ground now, presenting only his\nhead. Tarzan would have preferred to fire a little from one side, for\nhe knew what terrific damage the lion could do if he lived two minutes,\nor even a minute after he was hit. The horse stood trembling in terror\nat Tarzan\'s back. The ape-man took a cautious step to one side--Numa\nbut followed him with his eyes. Another step he took, and then\nanother. Numa had not moved. Now he could aim at a point between the\neye and the ear.\n\nHis finger tightened upon the trigger, and as he fired Numa sprang. At\nthe same instant the terrified horse made a last frantic effort to\nescape--the tether parted, and he went careening down the canon toward\nthe desert.\n\nNo ordinary man could have escaped those frightful claws when Numa\nsprang from so short a distance, but Tarzan was no ordinary man. From\nearliest childhood his muscles had been trained by the fierce\nexigencies of his existence to act with the rapidity of thought. As\nquick as was EL ADREA, Tarzan of the Apes was quicker, and so the great\nbeast crashed against a tree where he had expected to feel the soft\nflesh of man, while Tarzan, a couple of paces to the right, pumped\nanother bullet into him that brought him clawing and roaring to his\nside.\n\nTwice more Tarzan fired in quick succession, and then EL ADREA lay\nstill and roared no more. It was no longer Monsieur Jean Tarzan; it\nwas Tarzan of the Apes that put a savage foot upon the body of his\nsavage kill, and, raising his face to the full moon, lifted his mighty\nvoice in the weird and terrible challenge of his kind--a bull ape had\nmade his kill. And the wild things in the wild mountains stopped in\ntheir hunting, and trembled at this new and awful voice, while down in\nthe desert the children of the wilderness came out of their goatskin\ntents and looked toward the mountains, wondering what new and savage\nscourge had come to devastate their flocks.\n\nA half mile from the valley in which Tarzan stood, a score of\nwhite-robed figures, bearing long, wicked-looking guns, halted at the\nsound, and looked at one another with questioning eyes. But presently,\nas it was not repeated, they took up their silent, stealthy way toward\nthe valley.\n\nTarzan was now confident that Gernois had no intention of returning for\nhim, but he could not fathom the object that had prompted the officer\nto desert him, yet leave him free to return to camp. His horse gone,\nhe decided that it would be foolish to remain longer in the mountains,\nso he set out toward the desert.\n\nHe had scarcely entered the confines of the canon when the first of the\nwhite-robed figures emerged into the valley upon the opposite side.\nFor a moment they scanned the little depression from behind sheltering\nbowlders, but when they had satisfied themselves that it was empty they\nadvanced across it. Beneath the tree at one side they came upon the\nbody of EL ADREA. With muttered exclamations they crowded about it.\nThen, a moment later, they hurried down the canon which Tarzan was\nthreading a brief distance in advance of them. They moved cautiously\nand in silence, taking advantage of shelter, as men do who are stalking\nman.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 10\n\nThrough the Valley of the Shadow\n\n\nAs Tarzan walked down the wild canon beneath the brilliant African moon\nthe call of the jungle was strong upon him. The solitude and the\nsavage freedom filled his heart with life and buoyancy. Again he was\nTarzan of the Apes--every sense alert against the chance of surprise by\nsome jungle enemy--yet treading lightly and with head erect, in proud\nconsciousness of his might.\n\nThe nocturnal sounds of the mountains were new to him, yet they fell\nupon his ears like the soft voice of a half-forgotten love. Many he\nintuitively sensed--ah, there was one that was familiar indeed; the\ndistant coughing of Sheeta, the leopard; but there was a strange note\nin the final wail which made him doubt. It was a panther he heard.\n\nPresently a new sound--a soft, stealthy sound--obtruded itself among\nthe others. No human ears other than the ape-man\'s would have detected\nit. At first he did not translate it, but finally he realized that it\ncame from the bare feet of a number of human beings. They were behind\nhim, and they were coming toward him quietly. He was being stalked.\n\nIn a flash he knew why he had been left in that little valley by\nGernois; but there had been a hitch in the arrangements--the men had\ncome too late. Closer and closer came the footsteps. Tarzan halted\nand faced them, his rifle ready in his hand. Now he caught a fleeting\nglimpse of a white burnoose. He called aloud in French, asking what\nthey would of him. His reply was the flash of a long gun, and with the\nsound of the shot Tarzan of the Apes plunged forward upon his face.\n\nThe Arabs did not rush out immediately; instead, they waited to be sure\nthat their victim did not rise. Then they came rapidly from their\nconcealment, and bent over him. It was soon apparent that he was not\ndead. One of the men put the muzzle of his gun to the back of Tarzan\'s\nhead to finish him, but another waved him aside. \"If we bring him\nalive the reward is to be greater,\" explained the latter. So they\nbound his hands and feet, and, picking him up, placed him on the\nshoulders of four of their number. Then the march was resumed toward\nthe desert. When they had come out of the mountains they turned toward\nthe south, and about daylight came to the spot where their horses stood\nin care of two of their number.\n\nFrom here on their progress was more rapid. Tarzan, who had regained\nconsciousness, was tied to a spare horse, which they evidently had\nbrought for the purpose. His wound was but a slight scratch, which had\nfurrowed the flesh across his temple. It had stopped bleeding, but the\ndried and clotted blood smeared his face and clothing. He had said no\nword since he had fallen into the hands of these Arabs, nor had they\naddressed him other than to issue a few brief commands to him when the\nhorses had been reached.\n\nFor six hours they rode rapidly across the burning desert, avoiding the\noases near which their way led. About noon they came to a DOUAR of\nabout twenty tents. Here they halted, and as one of the Arabs was\nreleasing the alfa-grass ropes which bound him to his mount they were\nsurrounded by a mob of men, women, and children. Many of the tribe,\nand more especially the women, appeared to take delight in heaping\ninsults upon the prisoner, and some had even gone so far as to throw\nstones at him and strike him with sticks, when an old sheik appeared\nand drove them away.\n\n\"Ali-ben-Ahmed tells me,\" he said, \"that this man sat alone in the\nmountains and slew EL ADREA. What the business of the stranger who\nsent us after him may be, I know not, and what he may do with this man\nwhen we turn him over to him, I care not; but the prisoner is a brave\nman, and while he is in our hands he shall be treated with the respect\nthat be due one who hunts THE LORD WITH THE LARGE HEAD alone and by\nnight--and slays him.\"\n\nTarzan had heard of the respect in which Arabs held a lion-killer, and\nhe was not sorry that chance had played into his hands thus favorably\nto relieve him of the petty tortures of the tribe. Shortly after this\nhe was taken to a goat-skin tent upon the upper side of the DOUAR.\nThere he was fed, and then, securely bound, was left lying on a piece\nof native carpet, alone in the tent.\n\nHe could see a guard sitting before the door of his frail prison, but\nwhen he attempted to force the stout bonds that held him he realized\nthat any extra precaution on the part of his captors was quite\nunnecessary; not even his giant muscles could part those numerous\nstrands.\n\nJust before dusk several men approached the tent where he lay, and\nentered it. All were in Arab dress, but presently one of the number\nadvanced to Tarzan\'s side, and as he let the folds of cloth that had\nhidden the lower half of his face fall away the ape-man saw the\nmalevolent features of Nikolas Rokoff. There was a nasty smile on the\nbearded lips. \"Ah, Monsieur Tarzan,\" he said, \"this is indeed a\npleasure. But why do you not rise and greet your guest?\" Then, with\nan ugly oath, \"Get up, you dog!\" and, drawing back his booted foot, he\nkicked Tarzan heavily in the side. \"And here is another, and another,\nand another,\" he continued, as he kicked Tarzan about the face and\nside. \"One for each of the injuries you have done me.\"\n\nThe ape-man made no reply--he did not even deign to look upon the\nRussian again after the first glance of recognition. Finally the\nsheik, who had been standing a mute and frowning witness of the\ncowardly attack, intervened.\n\n\"Stop!\" he commanded. \"Kill him if you will, but I will see no brave\nman subjected to such indignities in my presence. I have half a mind\nto turn him loose, that I may see how long you would kick him then.\"\n\nThis threat put a sudden end to Rokoff\'s brutality, for he had no\ncraving to see Tarzan loosed from his bonds while he was within reach\nof those powerful hands.\n\n\"Very well,\" he replied to the Arab; \"I shall kill him presently.\"\n\n\"Not within the precincts of my DOUAR,\" returned the sheik. \"When he\nleaves here he leaves alive. What you do with him in the desert is\nnone of my concern, but I shall not have the blood of a Frenchman on\nthe hands of my tribe on account of another man\'s quarrel--they would\nsend soldiers here and kill many of my people, and burn our tents and\ndrive away our flocks.\"\n\n\"As you say,\" growled Rokoff. \"I\'ll take him out into the desert below\nthe DOUAR, and dispatch him.\"\n\n\"You will take him a day\'s ride from my country,\" said the sheik,\nfirmly, \"and some of my children shall follow you to see that you do\nnot disobey me--otherwise there may be two dead Frenchmen in the\ndesert.\"\n\nRokoff shrugged. \"Then I shall have to wait until the morrow--it is\nalready dark.\"\n\n\"As you will,\" said the sheik. \"But by an hour after dawn you must be\ngone from my DOUAR. I have little liking for unbelievers, and none at\nall for a coward.\"\n\nRokoff would have made some kind of retort, but he checked himself, for\nhe realized that it would require but little excuse for the old man to\nturn upon him. Together they left the tent. At the door Rokoff could\nnot resist the temptation to turn and fling a parting taunt at Tarzan.\n\"Sleep well, monsieur,\" he said, \"and do not forget to pray well, for\nwhen you die tomorrow it will be in such agony that you will be unable\nto pray for blaspheming.\"\n\nNo one had bothered to bring Tarzan either food or water since noon,\nand consequently he suffered considerably from thirst. He wondered if\nit would be worth while to ask his guard for water, but after making\ntwo or three requests without receiving any response, he decided that\nit would not.\n\nFar up in the mountains he heard a lion roar. How much safer one was,\nhe soliloquized, in the haunts of wild beasts than in the haunts of\nmen. Never in all his jungle life had he been more relentlessly\ntracked down than in the past few months of his experience among\ncivilized men. Never had he been any nearer death.\n\nAgain the lion roared. It sounded a little nearer. Tarzan felt the\nold, wild impulse to reply with the challenge of his kind. His kind?\nHe had almost forgotten that he was a man and not an ape. He tugged at\nhis bonds. God, if he could but get them near those strong teeth of\nhis. He felt a wild wave of madness sweep over him as his efforts to\nregain his liberty met with failure.\n\nNuma was roaring almost continually now. It was quite evident that he\nwas coming down into the desert to hunt. It was the roar of a hungry\nlion. Tarzan envied him, for he was free. No one would tie him with\nropes and slaughter him like a sheep. It was that which galled the\nape-man. He did not fear to die, no--it was the humiliation of defeat\nbefore death, without even a chance to battle for his life.\n\nIt must be near midnight, thought Tarzan. He had several hours to\nlive. Possibly he would yet find a way to take Rokoff with him on the\nlong journey. He could hear the savage lord of the desert quite close\nby now. Possibly he sought his meat from among the penned animals\nwithin the DOUAR.\n\nFor a long time silence reigned, then Tarzan\'s trained ears caught the\nsound of a stealthily moving body. It came from the side of the tent\nnearest the mountains--the back. Nearer and nearer it came. He\nwaited, listening intently, for it to pass. For a time there was\nsilence without, such a terrible silence that Tarzan was surprised that\nhe did not hear the breathing of the animal he felt sure must be\ncrouching close to the back wall of his tent.\n\nThere! It is moving again. Closer it creeps. Tarzan turns his head\nin the direction of the sound. It is very dark within the tent.\nSlowly the back rises from the ground, forced up by the head and\nshoulders of a body that looks all black in the semi-darkness. Beyond\nis a faint glimpse of the dimly starlit desert. A grim smile plays\nabout Tarzan\'s lips. At least Rokoff will be cheated. How mad he will\nbe! And death will be more merciful than he could have hoped for at\nthe hands of the Russian.\n\nNow the back of the tent drops into place, and all is darkness\nagain--whatever it is is inside the tent with him. He hears it\ncreeping close to him--now it is beside him. He closes his eyes and\nwaits for the mighty paw. Upon his upturned face falls the gentle\ntouch of a soft hand groping in the dark, and then a girl\'s voice in a\nscarcely audible whisper pronounces his name.\n\n\"Yes, it is I,\" he whispers in reply. \"But in the name of Heaven who\nare you?\"\n\n\"The Ouled-Nail of Sisi Aissa,\" came the answer. While she spoke\nTarzan could feel her working about his bonds. Occasionally the cold\nsteel of a knife touched his flesh. A moment later he was free.\n\n\"Come!\" she whispered.\n\nOn hands and knees he followed her out of the tent by the way she had\ncome. She continued crawling thus flat to the ground until she reached\na little patch of shrub. There she halted until he gained her side.\nFor a moment he looked at her before he spoke.\n\n\"I cannot understand,\" he said at last. \"Why are you here? How did\nyou know that I was a prisoner in that tent? How does it happen that\nit is you who have saved me?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"I have come a long way tonight,\" she said, \"and we have a\nlong way to go before we shall be out of danger. Come; I shall tell\nyou all about it as we go.\"\n\nTogether they rose and set off across the desert in the direction of\nthe mountains.\n\n\"I was not quite sure that I should ever reach you,\" she said at last.\n\"EL ADREA is abroad tonight, and after I left the horses I think he\nwinded me and was following--I was terribly frightened.\"\n\n\"What a brave girl,\" he said. \"And you ran all that risk for a\nstranger--an alien--an unbeliever?\"\n\nShe drew herself up very proudly.\n\n\"I am the daughter of the Sheik Kabour ben Saden,\" she answered. \"I\nshould be no fit daughter of his if I would not risk my life to save\nthat of the man who saved mine while he yet thought that I was but a\ncommon Ouled-Nail.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" he insisted, \"you are a very brave girl. But how did\nyou know that I was a prisoner back there?\"\n\n\"Achmet-din-Taieb, who is my cousin on my father\'s side, was visiting\nsome friends who belong to the tribe that captured you. He was at the\nDOUAR when you were brought in. When he reached home he was telling us\nabout the big Frenchman who had been captured by Ali-ben-Ahmed for\nanother Frenchman who wished to kill him. From the description I knew\nthat it must be you. My father was away. I tried to persuade some of\nthe men to come and save you, but they would not do it, saying: \'Let\nthe unbelievers kill one another if they wish. It is none of our\naffair, and if we go and interfere with Ali-ben-Ahmed\'s plans we shall\nonly stir up a fight with our own people.\'\n\n\"So when it was dark I came alone, riding one horse and leading another\nfor you. They are tethered not far from here. By morning we shall be\nwithin my father\'s DOUAR. He should be there himself by now--then let\nthem come and try to take Kadour ben Saden\'s friend.\"\n\nFor a few moments they walked on in silence.\n\n\"We should be near the horses,\" she said. \"It is strange that I do not\nsee them here.\"\n\nThen a moment later she stopped, with a little cry of consternation.\n\n\"They are gone!\" she exclaimed. \"It is here that I tethered them.\"\n\nTarzan stooped to examine the ground. He found that a large shrub had\nbeen torn up by the roots. Then he found something else. There was a\nwry smile on his face as he rose and turned toward the girl.\n\n\"EL ADREA has been here. From the signs, though, I rather think that\nhis prey escaped him. With a little start they would be safe enough\nfrom him in the open.\"\n\nThere was nothing to do but continue on foot. The way led them across\na low spur of the mountains, but the girl knew the trail as well as she\ndid her mother\'s face. They walked in easy, swinging strides, Tarzan\nkeeping a hand\'s breadth behind the girl\'s shoulder, that she might set\nthe pace, and thus be less fatigued. As they walked they talked,\noccasionally stopping to listen for sounds of pursuit.\n\nIt was now a beautiful, moonlit night. The air was crisp and\ninvigorating. Behind them lay the interminable vista of the desert,\ndotted here and there with an occasional oasis. The date palms of the\nlittle fertile spot they had just left, and the circle of goatskin\ntents, stood out in sharp relief against the yellow sand--a phantom\nparadise upon a phantom sea. Before them rose the grim and silent\nmountains. Tarzan\'s blood leaped in his veins. This was life! He\nlooked down upon the girl beside him--a daughter of the desert walking\nacross the face of a dead world with a son of the jungle. He smiled at\nthe thought. He wished that he had had a sister, and that she had been\nlike this girl. What a bully chum she would have been!\n\nThey had entered the mountains now, and were progressing more slowly,\nfor the trail was steeper and very rocky.\n\nFor a few minutes they had been silent. The girl was wondering if they\nwould reach her father\'s DOUAR before the pursuit had overtaken them.\nTarzan was wishing that they might walk on thus forever. If the girl\nwere only a man they might. He longed for a friend who loved the same\nwild life that he loved. He had learned to crave companionship, but it\nwas his misfortune that most of the men he knew preferred immaculate\nlinen and their clubs to nakedness and the jungle. It was, of course,\ndifficult to understand, yet it was very evident that they did.\n\nThe two had just turned a projecting rock around which the trail ran\nwhen they were brought to a sudden stop. There, before them, directly\nin the middle of the path, stood Numa, EL ADREA, the black lion. His\ngreen eyes looked very wicked, and he bared his teeth, and lashed his\nbay-black sides with his angry tail. Then he roared--the fearsome,\nterror-inspiring roar of the hungry lion which is also angry.\n\n\"Your knife,\" said Tarzan to the girl, extending his hand. She slipped\nthe hilt of the weapon into his waiting palm. As his fingers closed\nupon it he drew her back and pushed her behind him. \"Walk back to the\ndesert as rapidly as you can. If you hear me call you will know that\nall is well, and you may return.\"\n\n\"It is useless,\" she replied, resignedly. \"This is the end.\"\n\n\"Do as I tell you,\" he commanded. \"Quickly! He is about to charge.\"\nThe girl dropped back a few paces, where she stood watching for the\nterrible sight that she knew she should soon witness.\n\nThe lion was advancing slowly toward Tarzan, his nose to the ground,\nlike a challenging bull, his tail extended now and quivering as though\nwith intense excitement.\n\nThe ape-man stood, half crouching, the long Arab knife glistening in\nthe moonlight. Behind him the tense figure of the girl, motionless as\na carven statue. She leaned slightly forward, her lips parted, her\neyes wide. Her only conscious thought was wonder at the bravery of the\nman who dared face with a puny knife the lord with the large head. A\nman of her own blood would have knelt in prayer and gone down beneath\nthose awful fangs without resistance. In either case the result would\nbe the same--it was inevitable; but she could not repress a thrill of\nadmiration as her eyes rested upon the heroic figure before her. Not a\ntremor in the whole giant frame--his attitude as menacing and defiant\nas that of EL ADREA himself.\n\nThe lion was quite close to him now--but a few paces intervened--he\ncrouched, and then, with a deafening roar, he sprang.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 11\n\nJohn Caldwell, London\n\n\nAs Numa EL ADREA launched himself with widespread paws and bared fangs\nhe looked to find this puny man as easy prey as the score who had gone\ndown beneath him in the past. To him man was a clumsy, slow-moving,\ndefenseless creature--he had little respect for him.\n\nBut this time he found that he was pitted against a creature as agile\nand as quick as himself. When his mighty frame struck the spot where\nthe man had been he was no longer there.\n\nThe watching girl was transfixed by astonishment at the ease with which\nthe crouching man eluded the great paws. And now, O Allah! He had\nrushed in behind EL ADREA\'S shoulder even before the beast could turn,\nand had grasped him by the mane. The lion reared upon his hind legs\nlike a horse--Tarzan had known that he would do this, and he was ready.\nA giant arm encircled the black-maned throat, and once, twice, a dozen\ntimes a sharp blade darted in and out of the bay-black side behind the\nleft shoulder.\n\nFrantic were the leaps of Numa--awful his roars of rage and pain; but\nthe giant upon his back could not be dislodged or brought within reach\nof fangs or talons in the brief interval of life that remained to the\nlord with the large head. He was quite dead when Tarzan of the Apes\nreleased his hold and arose. Then the daughter of the desert witnessed\na thing that terrified her even more than had the presence of EL ADREA.\nThe man placed a foot upon the carcass of his kill, and, with his\nhandsome face raised toward the full moon, gave voice to the most\nfrightful cry that ever had smote upon her ears.\n\nWith a little cry of fear she shrank away from him--she thought that\nthe fearful strain of the encounter had driven him mad. As the last\nnote of that fiendish challenge died out in the diminishing echoes of\nthe distance the man dropped his eyes until they rested upon the girl.\n\nInstantly his face was lighted by the kindly smile that was ample\nassurance of his sanity, and the girl breathed freely once again,\nsmiling in response.\n\n\"What manner of man are you?\" she asked. \"The thing you have done is\nunheard of. Even now I cannot believe that it is possible for a lone\nman armed only with a knife to have fought hand to hand with EL ADREA\nand conquered him, unscathed--to have conquered him at all. And that\ncry--it was not human. Why did you do that?\"\n\nTarzan flushed. \"It is because I forget,\" he said, \"sometimes, that I\nam a civilized man. When I kill it must be that I am another\ncreature.\" He did not try to explain further, for it always seemed to\nhim that a woman must look with loathing upon one who was yet so nearly\na beast.\n\nTogether they continued their journey. The sun was an hour high when\nthey came out into the desert again beyond the mountains. Beside a\nlittle rivulet they found the girl\'s horses grazing. They had come\nthis far on their way home, and with the cause of their fear no longer\npresent had stopped to feed.\n\nWith little trouble Tarzan and the girl caught them, and, mounting,\nrode out into the desert toward the DOUAR of Sheik Kadour ben Saden.\n\nNo sign of pursuit developed, and they came in safety about nine\no\'clock to their destination. The sheik had but just returned. He was\nfrantic with grief at the absence of his daughter, whom he thought had\nbeen again abducted by the marauders. With fifty men he was already\nmounted to go in search of her when the two rode into the DOUAR.\n\nHis joy at the safe return of his daughter was only equaled by his\ngratitude to Tarzan for bringing her safely to him through the dangers\nof the night, and his thankfulness that she had been in time to save\nthe man who had once saved her.\n\nNo honor that Kadour ben Saden could heap upon the ape-man in\nacknowledgment of his esteem and friendship was neglected. When the\ngirl had recited the story of the slaying of EL ADREA Tarzan was\nsurrounded by a mob of worshiping Arabs--it was a sure road to their\nadmiration and respect.\n\nThe old sheik insisted that Tarzan remain indefinitely as his guest.\nHe even wished to adopt him as a member of the tribe, and there was for\nsome time a half-formed resolution in the ape-man\'s mind to accept and\nremain forever with these wild people, whom he understood and who\nseemed to understand him. His friendship and liking for the girl were\npotent factors in urging him toward an affirmative decision.\n\nHad she been a man, he argued, he should not have hesitated, for it\nwould have meant a friend after his own heart, with whom he could ride\nand hunt at will; but as it was they would be hedged by the\nconventionalities that are even more strictly observed by the wild\nnomads of the desert than by their more civilized brothers and sisters.\nAnd in a little while she would be married to one of these swarthy\nwarriors, and there would be an end to their friendship. So he decided\nagainst the sheik\'s proposal, though he remained a week as his guest.\n\nWhen he left, Kadour ben Saden and fifty white-robed warriors rode with\nhim to Bou Saada. While they were mounting in the DOUAR of Kadour ben\nSaden the morning of their departure, the girl came to bid farewell to\nTarzan.\n\n\"I have prayed that you would remain with us,\" she said simply, as he\nleaned from his saddle to clasp her hand in farewell, \"and now I shall\npray that you will return.\" There was an expression of wistfulness in\nher beautiful eyes, and a pathetic droop at the corners of her mouth.\nTarzan was touched.\n\n\"Who knows?\" and then he turned and rode after the departing Arabs.\n\nOutside Bou Saada he bade Kadour ben Saden and his men good-by, for\nthere were reasons which made him wish to make his entry into the town\nas secret as possible, and when he had explained them to the sheik the\nlatter concurred in his decision. The Arabs were to enter Bou Saada\nahead of him, saying nothing as to his presence with them. Later\nTarzan would come in alone, and go directly to an obscure native inn.\n\nThus, making his entrance after dark, as he did, he was not seen by any\none who knew him, and reached the inn unobserved. After dining with\nKadour ben Saden as his guest, he went to his former hotel by a\nroundabout way, and, coming in by a rear entrance, sought the\nproprietor, who seemed much surprised to see him alive.\n\nYes, there was mail for monsieur; he would fetch it. No, he would\nmention monsieur\'s return to no one. Presently he returned with a\npacket of letters. One was an order from his superior to lay off on\nhis present work, and hasten to Cape Town by the first steamer he could\nget. His further instructions would be awaiting him there in the hands\nof another agent whose name and address were given. That was\nall--brief but explicit. Tarzan arranged to leave Bou Saada early the\nnext morning. Then he started for the garrison to see Captain Gerard,\nwhom the hotel man had told him had returned with his detachment the\nprevious day.\n\nHe found the officer in his quarters. He was filled with surprise and\npleasure at seeing Tarzan alive and well.\n\n\"When Lieutenant Gernois returned and reported that he had not found\nyou at the spot that you had chosen to remain while the detachment was\nscouting, I was filled with alarm. We searched the mountain for days.\nThen came word that you had been killed and eaten by a lion. As proof\nyour gun was brought to us. Your horse had returned to camp the second\nday after your disappearance. We could not doubt. Lieutenant Gernois\nwas grief-stricken--he took all the blame upon himself. It was he who\ninsisted on carrying on the search himself. It was he who found the\nArab with your gun. He will be delighted to know that you are safe.\"\n\n\"Doubtless,\" said Tarzan, with a grim smile.\n\n\"He is down in the town now, or I should send for him,\" continued\nCaptain Gerard. \"I shall tell him as soon as he returns.\"\n\nTarzan let the officer think that he had been lost, wandering finally\ninto the DOUAR of Kadour ben Saden, who had escorted him back to Bou\nSaada. As soon as possible he bade the good officer adieu, and\nhastened back into the town. At the native inn he had learned through\nKadour ben Saden a piece of interesting information. It told of a\nblack-bearded white man who went always disguised as an Arab. For a\ntime he had nursed a broken wrist. More recently he had been away from\nBou Saada, but now he was back, and Tarzan knew his place of\nconcealment. It was for there he headed.\n\nThrough narrow, stinking alleys, black as Erebus, he groped, and then\nup a rickety stairway, at the end of which was a closed door and a\ntiny, unglazed window. The window was high under the low eaves of the\nmud building. Tarzan could just reach the sill. He raised himself\nslowly until his eyes topped it. The room within was lighted, and at a\ntable sat Rokoff and Gernois. Gernois was speaking.\n\n\"Rokoff, you are a devil!\" he was saying. \"You have hounded me until I\nhave lost the last shred of my honor. You have driven me to murder,\nfor the blood of that man Tarzan is on my hands. If it were not that\nthat other devil\'s spawn, Paulvitch, still knew my secret, I should\nkill you here tonight with my bare hands.\"\n\nRokoff laughed. \"You would not do that, my dear lieutenant,\" he said.\n\"The moment I am reported dead by assassination that dear Alexis will\nforward to the minister of war full proof of the affair you so ardently\nlong to conceal; and, further, will charge you with my murder. Come,\nbe sensible. I am your best friend. Have I not protected your honor\nas though it were my own?\"\n\nGernois sneered, and spat out an oath.\n\n\"Just one more little payment,\" continued Rokoff, \"and the papers I\nwish, and you have my word of honor that I shall never ask another cent\nfrom you, or further information.\"\n\n\"And a good reason why,\" growled Gernois. \"What you ask will take my\nlast cent, and the only valuable military secret I hold. You ought to\nbe paying me for the information, instead of taking both it and money,\ntoo.\"\n\n\"I am paying you by keeping a still tongue in my head,\" retorted\nRokoff. \"But let\'s have done. Will you, or will you not? I give you\nthree minutes to decide. If you are not agreeable I shall send a note\nto your commandant tonight that will end in the degradation that\nDreyfus suffered--the only difference being that he did not deserve it.\"\n\nFor a moment Gernois sat with bowed head. At length he arose. He drew\ntwo pieces of paper from his blouse.\n\n\"Here,\" he said hopelessly. \"I had them ready, for I knew that there\ncould be but one outcome.\" He held them toward the Russian.\n\nRokoff\'s cruel face lighted in malignant gloating. He seized the bits\nof paper.\n\n\"You have done well, Gernois,\" he said. \"I shall not trouble you\nagain--unless you happen to accumulate some more money or information,\"\nand he grinned.\n\n\"You never shall again, you dog!\" hissed Gernois. \"The next time I\nshall kill you. I came near doing it tonight. For an hour I sat with\nthese two pieces of paper on my table before me ere I came here--beside\nthem lay my loaded revolver. I was trying to decide which I should\nbring. Next time the choice shall be easier, for I already have\ndecided. You had a close call tonight, Rokoff; do not tempt fate a\nsecond time.\"\n\nThen Gernois rose to leave. Tarzan barely had time to drop to the\nlanding and shrink back into the shadows on the far side of the door.\nEven then he scarcely hoped to elude detection. The landing was very\nsmall, and though he flattened himself against the wall at its far edge\nhe was scarcely more than a foot from the doorway. Almost immediately\nit opened, and Gernois stepped out. Rokoff was behind him. Neither\nspoke. Gernois had taken perhaps three steps down the stairway when he\nhalted and half turned, as though to retrace his steps.\n\nTarzan knew that discovery would be inevitable. Rokoff still stood on\nthe threshold a foot from him, but he was looking in the opposite\ndirection, toward Gernois. Then the officer evidently reconsidered his\ndecision, and resumed his downward course. Tarzan could hear Rokoff\'s\nsigh of relief. A moment later the Russian went back into the room and\nclosed the door.\n\nTarzan waited until Gernois had had time to get well out of hearing,\nthen he pushed open the door and stepped into the room. He was on top\nof Rokoff before the man could rise from the chair where he sat\nscanning the paper Gernois had given him. As his eyes turned and fell\nupon the ape-man\'s face his own went livid.\n\n\"You!\" he gasped.\n\n\"I,\" replied Tarzan.\n\n\"What do you want?\" whispered Rokoff, for the look in the ape-man\'s\neyes frightened him. \"Have you come to kill me? You do not dare.\nThey would guillotine you. You do not dare kill me.\"\n\n\"I dare kill you, Rokoff,\" replied Tarzan, \"for no one knows that you\nare here or that I am here, and Paulvitch would tell them that it was\nGernois. I heard you tell Gernois so. But that would not influence\nme, Rokoff. I would not care who knew that I had killed you; the\npleasure of killing you would more than compensate for any punishment\nthey might inflict upon me. You are the most despicable cur of a\ncoward, Rokoff, I have ever heard of. You should be killed. I should\nlove to kill you,\" and Tarzan approached closer to the man.\n\nRokoff\'s nerves were keyed to the breaking point. With a shriek he\nsprang toward an adjoining room, but the ape-man was upon his back\nwhile his leap was yet but half completed. Iron fingers sought his\nthroat--the great coward squealed like a stuck pig, until Tarzan had\nshut off his wind. Then the ape-man dragged him to his feet, still\nchoking him. The Russian struggled futilely--he was like a babe in the\nmighty grasp of Tarzan of the Apes.\n\nTarzan sat him in a chair, and long before there was danger of the\nman\'s dying he released his hold upon his throat. When the Russian\'s\ncoughing spell had abated Tarzan spoke to him again.\n\n\"I have given you a taste of the suffering of death,\" he said. \"But I\nshall not kill--this time. I am sparing you solely for the sake of a\nvery good woman whose great misfortune it was to have been born of the\nsame woman who gave birth to you. But I shall spare you only this once\non her account. Should I ever learn that you have again annoyed her or\nher husband--should you ever annoy me again--should I hear that you\nhave returned to France or to any French possession, I shall make it my\nsole business to hunt you down and complete the choking I commenced\ntonight.\" Then he turned to the table, on which the two pieces of\npaper still lay. As he picked them up Rokoff gasped in horror.\n\nTarzan examined both the check and the other. He was amazed at the\ninformation the latter contained. Rokoff had partially read it, but\nTarzan knew that no one could remember the salient facts and figures it\nheld which made it of real value to an enemy of France.\n\n\"These will interest the chief of staff,\" he said, as he slipped them\ninto his pocket. Rokoff groaned. He did not dare curse aloud.\n\nThe next morning Tarzan rode north on his way to Bouira and Algiers.\nAs he had ridden past the hotel Lieutenant Gernois was standing on the\nveranda. As his eyes discovered Tarzan he went white as chalk. The\nape-man would have been glad had the meeting not occurred, but he could\nnot avoid it. He saluted the officer as he rode past. Mechanically\nGernois returned the salute, but those terrible, wide eyes followed the\nhorseman, expressionless except for horror. It was as though a dead\nman looked upon a ghost.\n\nAt Sidi Aissa Tarzan met a French officer with whom he had become\nacquainted on the occasion of his recent sojourn in the town.\n\n\"You left Bou Saada early?\" questioned the officer. \"Then you have not\nheard about poor Gernois.\"\n\n\"He was the last man I saw as I rode away,\" replied Tarzan. \"What\nabout him?\"\n\n\"He is dead. He shot himself about eight o\'clock this morning.\"\n\nTwo days later Tarzan reached Algiers. There he found that he would\nhave a two days\' wait before he could catch a ship bound for Cape Town.\nHe occupied his time in writing out a full report of his mission. The\nsecret papers he had taken from Rokoff he did not inclose, for he did\nnot dare trust them out of his own possession until he had been\nauthorized to turn them over to another agent, or himself return to\nParis with them.\n\nAs Tarzan boarded his ship after what seemed a most tedious wait to\nhim, two men watched him from an upper deck. Both were fashionably\ndressed and smooth shaven. The taller of the two had sandy hair, but\nhis eyebrows were very black. Later in the day they chanced to meet\nTarzan on deck, but as one hurriedly called his companion\'s attention\nto something at sea their faces were turned from Tarzan as he passed,\nso that he did not notice their features. In fact, he had paid no\nattention to them at all.\n\nFollowing the instructions of his chief, Tarzan had booked his passage\nunder an assumed name--John Caldwell, London. He did not understand\nthe necessity of this, and it caused him considerable speculation. He\nwondered what role he was to play in Cape Town.\n\n\"Well,\" he thought, \"thank Heaven that I am rid of Rokoff. He was\ncommencing to annoy me. I wonder if I am really becoming so civilized\nthat presently I shall develop a set of nerves. He would give them to\nme if any one could, for he does not fight fair. One never knows\nthrough what new agency he is going to strike. It is as though Numa,\nthe lion, had induced Tantor, the elephant, and Histah, the snake, to\njoin him in attempting to kill me. I would then never have known what\nminute, or by whom, I was to be attacked next. But the brutes are more\nchivalrous than man--they do not stoop to cowardly intrigue.\"\n\nAt dinner that night Tarzan sat next to a young woman whose place was\nat the captain\'s left. The officer introduced them.\n\nMiss Strong! Where had he heard the name before? It was very\nfamiliar. And then the girl\'s mother gave him the clew, for when she\naddressed her daughter she called her Hazel.\n\nHazel Strong! What memories the name inspired. It had been a letter\nto this girl, penned by the fair hand of Jane Porter, that had carried\nto him the first message from the woman he loved. How vividly he\nrecalled the night he had stolen it from the desk in the cabin of his\nlong-dead father, where Jane Porter had sat writing it late into the\nnight, while he crouched in the darkness without. How terror-stricken\nshe would have been that night had she known that the wild jungle beast\nsquatted outside her window, watching her every move.\n\nAnd this was Hazel Strong--Jane Porter\'s best friend!\n\n\n\n\nChapter 12\n\nShips That Pass\n\n\nLet us go back a few months to the little, windswept platform of a\nrailway station in northern Wisconsin. The smoke of forest fires hangs\nlow over the surrounding landscape, its acrid fumes smarting the eyes\nof a little party of six who stand waiting the coming of the train that\nis to bear them away toward the south.\n\nProfessor Archimedes Q. Porter, his hands clasped beneath the tails of\nhis long coat, paces back and forth under the ever-watchful eye of his\nfaithful secretary, Mr. Samuel T. Philander. Twice within the past few\nminutes he has started absent-mindedly across the tracks in the\ndirection of a near-by swamp, only to be rescued and dragged back by\nthe tireless Mr. Philander.\n\nJane Porter, the professor\'s daughter, is in strained and lifeless\nconversation with William Cecil Clayton and Tarzan of the Apes. Within\nthe little waiting room, but a bare moment before, a confession of love\nand a renunciation had taken place that had blighted the lives and\nhappiness of two of the party, but William Cecil Clayton, Lord\nGreystoke, was not one of them.\n\nBehind Miss Porter hovered the motherly Esmeralda. She, too, was\nhappy, for was she not returning to her beloved Maryland? Already she\ncould see dimly through the fog of smoke the murky headlight of the\noncoming engine. The men began to gather up the hand baggage.\nSuddenly Clayton exclaimed.\n\n\"By Jove! I\'ve left my ulster in the waiting-room,\" and hastened off\nto fetch it.\n\n\"Good-bye, Jane,\" said Tarzan, extending his hand. \"God bless you!\"\n\n\"Good-bye,\" replied the girl faintly. \"Try to forget me--no, not\nthat--I could not bear to think that you had forgotten me.\"\n\n\"There is no danger of that, dear,\" he answered. \"I wish to Heaven\nthat I might forget. It would be so much easier than to go through\nlife always remembering what might have been. You will be happy,\nthough; I am sure you shall--you must be. You may tell the others of\nmy decision to drive my car on to New York--I don\'t feel equal to\nbidding Clayton good-bye. I want always to remember him kindly, but I\nfear that I am too much of a wild beast yet to be trusted too long with\nthe man who stands between me and the one person in all the world I\nwant.\"\n\nAs Clayton stooped to pick up his coat in the waiting room his eyes\nfell on a telegraph blank lying face down upon the floor. He stooped\nto pick it up, thinking it might be a message of importance which some\none had dropped. He glanced at it hastily, and then suddenly he forgot\nhis coat, the approaching train--everything but that terrible little\npiece of yellow paper in his hand. He read it twice before he could\nfully grasp the terrific weight of meaning that it bore to him.\n\nWhen he had picked it up he had been an English nobleman, the proud and\nwealthy possessor of vast estates--a moment later he had read it, and\nhe knew that he was an untitled and penniless beggar. It was D\'Arnot\'s\ncablegram to Tarzan, and it read:\n\n\nFinger prints prove you Greystoke. Congratulations.\n D\'ARNOT.\n\n\nHe staggered as though he had received a mortal blow. Just then he\nheard the others calling to him to hurry--the train was coming to a\nstop at the little platform. Like a man dazed he gathered up his\nulster. He would tell them about the cablegram when they were all on\nboard the train. Then he ran out upon the platform just as the engine\nwhistled twice in the final warning that precedes the first rumbling\njerk of coupling pins. The others were on board, leaning out from the\nplatform of a Pullman, crying to him to hurry. Quite five minutes\nelapsed before they were settled in their seats, nor was it until then\nthat Clayton discovered that Tarzan was not with them.\n\n\"Where is Tarzan?\" he asked Jane Porter. \"In another car?\"\n\n\"No,\" she replied; \"at the last minute he determined to drive his\nmachine back to New York. He is anxious to see more of America than is\npossible from a car window. He is returning to France, you know.\"\n\nClayton did not reply. He was trying to find the right words to\nexplain to Jane Porter the calamity that had befallen him--and her. He\nwondered just what the effect of his knowledge would be on her. Would\nshe still wish to marry him--to be plain Mrs. Clayton? Suddenly the\nawful sacrifice which one of them must make loomed large before his\nimagination. Then came the question: Will Tarzan claim his own? The\nape-man had known the contents of the message before he calmly denied\nknowledge of his parentage! He had admitted that Kala, the ape, was\nhis mother! Could it have been for love of Jane Porter?\n\nThere was no other explanation which seemed reasonable. Then, having\nignored the evidence of the message, was it not reasonable to assume\nthat he meant never to claim his birthright? If this were so, what\nright had he, William Cecil Clayton, to thwart the wishes, to balk the\nself-sacrifice of this strange man? If Tarzan of the Apes could do\nthis thing to save Jane Porter from unhappiness, why should he, to\nwhose care she was intrusting her whole future, do aught to jeopardize\nher interests?\n\nAnd so he reasoned until the first generous impulse to proclaim the\ntruth and relinquish his titles and his estates to their rightful owner\nwas forgotten beneath the mass of sophistries which self-interest had\nadvanced. But during the balance of the trip, and for many days\nthereafter, he was moody and distraught. Occasionally the thought\nobtruded itself that possibly at some later day Tarzan would regret his\nmagnanimity, and claim his rights.\n\nSeveral days after they reached Baltimore Clayton broached the subject\nof an early marriage to Jane.\n\n\"What do you mean by early?\" she asked.\n\n\"Within the next few days. I must return to England at once--I want\nyou to return with me, dear.\"\n\n\"I can\'t get ready so soon as that,\" replied Jane. \"It will take a\nwhole month, at least.\"\n\nShe was glad, for she hoped that whatever called him to England might\nstill further delay the wedding. She had made a bad bargain, but she\nintended carrying her part loyally to the bitter end--if she could\nmanage to secure a temporary reprieve, though, she felt that she was\nwarranted in doing so. His reply disconcerted her.\n\n\"Very well, Jane,\" he said. \"I am disappointed, but I shall let my\ntrip to England wait a month; then we can go back together.\"\n\nBut when the month was drawing to a close she found still another\nexcuse upon which to hang a postponement, until at last, discouraged\nand doubting, Clayton was forced to go back to England alone.\n\nThe several letters that passed between them brought Clayton no nearer\nto a consummation of his hopes than he had been before, and so it was\nthat he wrote directly to Professor Porter, and enlisted his services.\nThe old man had always favored the match. He liked Clayton, and, being\nof an old southern family, he put rather an exaggerated value on the\nadvantages of a title, which meant little or nothing to his daughter.\n\nClayton urged that the professor accept his invitation to be his guest\nin London, an invitation which included the professor\'s entire little\nfamily--Mr. Philander, Esmeralda, and all. The Englishman argued that\nonce Jane was there, and home ties had been broken, she would not so\ndread the step which she had so long hesitated to take.\n\nSo the evening that he received Clayton\'s letter Professor Porter\nannounced that they would leave for London the following week.\n\nBut once in London Jane Porter was no more tractable than she had been\nin Baltimore. She found one excuse after another, and when, finally,\nLord Tennington invited the party to cruise around Africa in his yacht,\nshe expressed the greatest delight in the idea, but absolutely refused\nto be married until they had returned to London. As the cruise was to\nconsume a year at least, for they were to stop for indefinite periods\nat various points of interest, Clayton mentally anathematized\nTennington for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip.\n\nIt was Lord Tennington\'s plan to cruise through the Mediterranean, and\nthe Red Sea to the Indian Ocean, and thus down the East Coast, putting\nin at every port that was worth the seeing.\n\nAnd so it happened that on a certain day two vessels passed in the\nStrait of Gibraltar. The smaller, a trim white yacht, was speeding\ntoward the east, and on her deck sat a young woman who gazed with sad\neyes upon a diamond-studded locket which she idly fingered. Her\nthoughts were far away, in the dim, leafy fastness of a tropical\njungle--and her heart was with her thoughts.\n\nShe wondered if the man who had given her the beautiful bauble, that\nhad meant so much more to him than the intrinsic value which he had not\neven known could ever have meant to him, was back in his savage forest.\n\nAnd upon the deck of the larger vessel, a passenger steamer passing\ntoward the east, the man sat with another young woman, and the two idly\nspeculated upon the identity of the dainty craft gliding so gracefully\nthrough the gentle swell of the lazy sea.\n\nWhen the yacht had passed the man resumed the conversation that her\nappearance had broken off.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"I like America very much, and that means, of course,\nthat I like Americans, for a country is only what its people make it.\nI met some very delightful people while I was there. I recall one\nfamily from your own city, Miss Strong, whom I liked\nparticularly--Professor Porter and his daughter.\"\n\n\"Jane Porter!\" exclaimed the girl. \"Do you mean to tell me that you\nknow Jane Porter? Why, she is the very best friend I have in the\nworld. We were little children together--we have known each other for\nages.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" he answered, smiling. \"You would have difficulty in\npersuading any one of the fact who had seen either of you.\"\n\n\"I\'ll qualify the statement, then,\" she answered, with a laugh. \"We\nhave known each other for two ages--hers and mine. But seriously we\nare as dear to each other as sisters, and now that I am going to lose\nher I am almost heartbroken.\"\n\n\"Going to lose her?\" exclaimed Tarzan. \"Why, what do you mean? Oh,\nyes, I understand. You mean that now that she is married and living in\nEngland, you will seldom if ever see her.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied she; \"and the saddest part of it all is that she is not\nmarrying the man she loves. Oh, it is terrible. Marrying from a sense\nof duty! I think it is perfectly wicked, and I told her so. I have\nfelt so strongly on the subject that although I was the only person\noutside of blood relations who was to have been asked to the wedding I\nwould not let her invite me, for I should not have gone to witness the\nterrible mockery. But Jane Porter is peculiarly positive. She has\nconvinced herself that she is doing the only honorable thing that she\ncan do, and nothing in the world will ever prevent her from marrying\nLord Greystoke except Greystoke himself, or death.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for her,\" said Tarzan.\n\n\"And I am sorry for the man she loves,\" said the girl, \"for he loves\nher. I never met him, but from what Jane tells me he must be a very\nwonderful person. It seems that he was born in an African jungle, and\nbrought up by fierce, anthropoid apes. He had never seen a white man\nor woman until Professor Porter and his party were marooned on the\ncoast right at the threshold of his tiny cabin. He saved them from all\nmanner of terrible beasts, and accomplished the most wonderful feats\nimaginable, and then to cap the climax he fell in love with Jane and\nshe with him, though she never really knew it for sure until she had\npromised herself to Lord Greystoke.\"\n\n\"Most remarkable,\" murmured Tarzan, cudgeling his brain for some\npretext upon which to turn the subject. He delighted in hearing Hazel\nStrong talk of Jane, but when he was the subject of the conversation he\nwas bored and embarrassed. But he was soon given a respite, for the\ngirl\'s mother joined them, and the talk became general.\n\nThe next few days passed uneventfully. The sea was quiet. The sky was\nclear. The steamer plowed steadily on toward the south without pause.\nTarzan spent quite a little time with Miss Strong and her mother. They\nwhiled away their hours on deck reading, talking, or taking pictures\nwith Miss Strong\'s camera. When the sun had set they walked.\n\nOne day Tarzan found Miss Strong in conversation with a stranger, a man\nhe had not seen on board before. As he approached the couple the man\nbowed to the girl and turned to walk away.\n\n\"Wait, Monsieur Thuran,\" said Miss Strong; \"you must meet Mr. Caldwell.\nWe are all fellow passengers, and should be acquainted.\"\n\nThe two men shook hands. As Tarzan looked into the eyes of Monsieur\nThuran he was struck by the strange familiarity of their expression.\n\n\"I have had the honor of monsieur\'s acquaintance in the past, I am\nsure,\" said Tarzan, \"though I cannot recall the circumstances.\"\n\nMonsieur Thuran appeared ill at ease.\n\n\"I cannot say, monsieur,\" he replied. \"It may be so. I have had that\nidentical sensation myself when meeting a stranger.\"\n\n\"Monsieur Thuran has been explaining some of the mysteries of\nnavigation to me,\" explained the girl.\n\nTarzan paid little heed to the conversation that ensued--he was\nattempting to recall where he had met Monsieur Thuran before. That it\nhad been under peculiar circumstances he was positive. Presently the\nsun reached them, and the girl asked Monsieur Thuran to move her chair\nfarther back into the shade. Tarzan happened to be watching the man at\nthe time, and noticed the awkward manner in which he handled the\nchair--his left wrist was stiff. That clew was sufficient--a sudden\ntrain of associated ideas did the rest.\n\nMonsieur Thuran had been trying to find an excuse to make a graceful\ndeparture. The lull in the conversation following the moving of their\nposition gave him an opportunity to make his excuses. Bowing low to\nMiss Strong, and inclining his head to Tarzan, he turned to leave them.\n\n\"Just a moment,\" said Tarzan. \"If Miss Strong will pardon me I will\naccompany you. I shall return in a moment, Miss Strong.\"\n\nMonsieur Thuran looked uncomfortable. When the two men had passed out\nof the girl\'s sight, Tarzan stopped, laying a heavy hand on the other\'s\nshoulder.\n\n\"What is your game now, Rokoff?\" he asked.\n\n\"I am leaving France as I promised you,\" replied the other, in a surly\nvoice.\n\n\"I see you are,\" said Tarzan; \"but I know you so well that I can\nscarcely believe that your being on the same boat with me is purely a\ncoincidence. If I could believe it the fact that you are in disguise\nwould immediately disabuse my mind of any such idea.\"\n\n\"Well,\" growled Rokoff, with a shrug, \"I cannot see what you are going\nto do about it. This vessel flies the English flag. I have as much\nright on board her as you, and from the fact that you are booked under\nan assumed name I imagine that I have more right.\"\n\n\"We will not discuss it, Rokoff. All I wanted to say to you is that\nyou must keep away from Miss Strong--she is a decent woman.\"\n\nRokoff turned scarlet.\n\n\"If you don\'t I shall pitch you overboard,\" continued Tarzan. \"Do not\nforget that I am just waiting for some excuse.\" Then he turned on his\nheel, and left Rokoff standing there trembling with suppressed rage.\n\nHe did not see the man again for days, but Rokoff was not idle. In his\nstateroom with Paulvitch he fumed and swore, threatening the most\nterrible of revenges.\n\n\"I would throw him overboard tonight,\" he cried, \"were I sure that\nthose papers were not on his person. I cannot chance pitching them\ninto the ocean with him. If you were not such a stupid coward, Alexis,\nyou would find a way to enter his stateroom and search for the\ndocuments.\"\n\nPaulvitch smiled. \"You are supposed to be the brains of this\npartnership, my dear Nikolas,\" he replied. \"Why do you not find the\nmeans to search Monsieur Caldwell\'s stateroom--eh?\"\n\nTwo hours later fate was kind to them, for Paulvitch, who was ever on\nthe watch, saw Tarzan leave his room without locking the door. Five\nminutes later Rokoff was stationed where he could give the alarm in\ncase Tarzan returned, and Paulvitch was deftly searching the contents\nof the ape-man\'s luggage.\n\nHe was about to give up in despair when he saw a coat which Tarzan had\njust removed. A moment later he grasped an official envelope in his\nhand. A quick glance at its contents brought a broad smile to the\nRussian\'s face.\n\nWhen he left the stateroom Tarzan himself could not have told that an\narticle in it had been touched since he left it--Paulvitch was a past\nmaster in his chosen field. When he handed the packet to Rokoff in the\nseclusion of their stateroom the larger man rang for a steward, and\nordered a pint of champagne.\n\n\"We must celebrate, my dear Alexis,\" he said.\n\n\"It was luck, Nikolas,\" explained Paulvitch. \"It is evident that he\ncarries these papers always upon his person--just by chance he\nneglected to transfer them when he changed coats a few minutes since.\nBut there will be the deuce to pay when he discovers his loss. I am\nafraid that he will immediately connect you with it. Now that he knows\nthat you are on board he will suspect you at once.\"\n\n\"It will make no difference whom he suspects--after to-night,\" said\nRokoff, with a nasty grin.\n\nAfter Miss Strong had gone below that night Tarzan stood leaning over\nthe rail looking far out to sea. Every night he had done this since he\nhad come on board--sometimes he stood thus for an hour. And the eyes\nthat had been watching his every movement since he had boarded the ship\nat Algiers knew that this was his habit.\n\nEven as he stood there this night those eyes were on him. Presently\nthe last straggler had left the deck. It was a clear night, but there\nwas no moon--objects on deck were barely discernible.\n\nFrom the shadows of the cabin two figures crept stealthily upon the\nape-man from behind. The lapping of the waves against the ship\'s\nsides, the whirring of the propeller, the throbbing of the engines,\ndrowned the almost soundless approach of the two.\n\nThey were quite close to him now, and crouching low, like tacklers on a\ngridiron. One of them raised his hand and lowered it, as though\ncounting off seconds--one--two--three! As one man the two leaped for\ntheir victim. Each grasped a leg, and before Tarzan of the Apes,\nlightning though he was, could turn to save himself he had been pitched\nover the low rail and was falling into the Atlantic.\n\nHazel Strong was looking from her darkened port across the dark sea.\nSuddenly a body shot past her eyes from the deck above. It dropped so\nquickly into the dark waters below that she could not be sure of what\nit was--it might have been a man, she could not say. She listened for\nsome outcry from above--for the always-fearsome call, \"Man overboard!\"\nbut it did not come. All was silence on the ship above--all was\nsilence in the sea below.\n\nThe girl decided that she had but seen a bundle of refuse thrown\noverboard by one of the ship\'s crew, and a moment later sought her\nberth.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 13\n\nThe Wreck of the \"Lady Alice\"\n\n\nThe next morning at breakfast Tarzan\'s place was vacant. Miss Strong\nwas mildly curious, for Mr. Caldwell had always made it a point to wait\nthat he might breakfast with her and her mother. As she was sitting on\ndeck later Monsieur Thuran paused to exchange a half dozen pleasant\nwords with her. He seemed in most excellent spirits--his manner was\nthe extreme of affability. As he passed on Miss Strong thought what a\nvery delightful man was Monsieur Thuran.\n\nThe day dragged heavily. She missed the quiet companionship of Mr.\nCaldwell--there had been something about him that had made the girl\nlike him from the first; he had talked so entertainingly of the places\nhe had seen--the peoples and their customs--the wild beasts; and he had\nalways had a droll way of drawing striking comparisons between savage\nanimals and civilized men that showed a considerable knowledge of the\nformer, and a keen, though somewhat cynical, estimate of the latter.\n\nWhen Monsieur Thuran stopped again to chat with her in the afternoon\nshe welcomed the break in the day\'s monotony. But she had begun to\nbecome seriously concerned in Mr. Caldwell\'s continued absence;\nsomehow she constantly associated it with the start she had had the\nnight before, when the dark object fell past her port into the sea.\nPresently she broached the subject to Monsieur Thuran. Had he seen Mr.\nCaldwell today? He had not. Why?\n\n\"He was not at breakfast as usual, nor have I seen him once since\nyesterday,\" explained the girl.\n\nMonsieur Thuran was extremely solicitous.\n\n\"I did not have the pleasure of intimate acquaintance with Mr.\nCaldwell,\" he said. \"He seemed a most estimable gentleman, however.\nCan it be that he is indisposed, and has remained in his stateroom? It\nwould not be strange.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied the girl, \"it would not be strange, of course; but for\nsome inexplicable reason I have one of those foolish feminine\npresentiments that all is not right with Mr. Caldwell. It is the\nstrangest feeling--it is as though I knew that he was not on board the\nship.\"\n\nMonsieur Thuran laughed pleasantly. \"Mercy, my dear Miss Strong,\" he\nsaid; \"where in the world could he be then? We have not been within\nsight of land for days.\"\n\n\"Of course, it is ridiculous of me,\" she admitted. And then: \"But I am\nnot going to worry about it any longer; I am going to find out where\nMr. Caldwell is,\" and she motioned to a passing steward.\n\n\"That may be more difficult than you imagine, my dear girl,\" thought\nMonsieur Thuran, but aloud he said: \"By all means.\"\n\n\"Find Mr. Caldwell, please,\" she said to the steward, \"and tell him\nthat his friends are much worried by his continued absence.\"\n\n\"You are very fond of Mr. Caldwell?\" suggested Monsieur Thuran.\n\n\"I think he is splendid,\" replied the girl. \"And mamma is perfectly\ninfatuated with him. He is the sort of man with whom one has a feeling\nof perfect security--no one could help but have confidence in Mr.\nCaldwell.\"\n\nA moment later the steward returned to say that Mr. Caldwell was not in\nhis stateroom. \"I cannot find him, Miss Strong, and\"--he hesitated--\"I\nhave learned that his berth was not occupied last night. I think that\nI had better report the matter to the captain.\"\n\n\"Most assuredly,\" exclaimed Miss Strong. \"I shall go with you to the\ncaptain myself. It is terrible! I know that something awful has\nhappened. My presentiments were not false, after all.\"\n\nIt was a very frightened young woman and an excited steward who\npresented themselves before the captain a few moments later. He\nlistened to their stories in silence--a look of concern marking his\nexpression as the steward assured him that he had sought for the\nmissing passenger in every part of the ship that a passenger might be\nexpected to frequent.\n\n\"And are you sure, Miss Strong, that you saw a body fall overboard last\nnight?\" he asked.\n\n\"There is not the slightest doubt about that,\" she answered. \"I cannot\nsay that it was a human body--there was no outcry. It might have been\nonly what I thought it was--a bundle of refuse. But if Mr. Caldwell is\nnot found on board I shall always be positive that it was he whom I saw\nfall past my port.\"\n\nThe captain ordered an immediate and thorough search of the entire ship\nfrom stem to stern--no nook or cranny was to be overlooked. Miss\nStrong remained in his cabin, waiting the outcome of the quest. The\ncaptain asked her many questions, but she could tell him nothing about\nthe missing man other than what she had herself seen during their brief\nacquaintance on shipboard. For the first time she suddenly realized\nhow very little indeed Mr. Caldwell had told her about himself or his\npast life. That he had been born in Africa and educated in Paris was\nabout all she knew, and this meager information had been the result of\nher surprise that an Englishman should speak English with such a marked\nFrench accent.\n\n\"Did he ever speak of any enemies?\" asked the captain.\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n\"Was he acquainted with any of the other passengers?\"\n\n\"Only as he had been with me--through the circumstance of casual\nmeeting as fellow shipmates.\"\n\n\"Er--was he, in your opinion, Miss Strong, a man who drank to excess?\"\n\n\"I do not know that he drank at all--he certainly had not been drinking\nup to half an hour before I saw that body fall overboard,\" she\nanswered, \"for I was with him on deck up to that time.\"\n\n\"It is very strange,\" said the captain. \"He did not look to me like a\nman who was subject to fainting spells, or anything of that sort. And\neven had he been it is scarcely credible that he should have fallen\ncompletely over the rail had he been taken with an attack while leaning\nupon it--he would rather have fallen inside, upon the deck. If he is\nnot on board, Miss Strong, he was thrown overboard--and the fact that\nyou heard no outcry would lead to the assumption that he was dead\nbefore he left the ship\'s deck--murdered.\"\n\nThe girl shuddered.\n\nIt was a full hour later that the first officer returned to report the\noutcome of the search.\n\n\"Mr. Caldwell is not on board, sir,\" he said.\n\n\"I fear that there is something more serious than accident here, Mr.\nBrently,\" said the captain. \"I wish that you would make a personal and\nvery careful examination of Mr. Caldwell\'s effects, to ascertain if\nthere is any clew to a motive either for suicide or murder--sift the\nthing to the bottom.\"\n\n\"Aye, aye, sir!\" responded Mr. Brently, and left to commence his\ninvestigation.\n\nHazel Strong was prostrated. For two days she did not leave her cabin,\nand when she finally ventured on deck she was very wan and white, with\ngreat, dark circles beneath her eyes. Waking or sleeping, it seemed\nthat she constantly saw that dark body dropping, swift and silent, into\nthe cold, grim sea.\n\nShortly after her first appearance on deck following the tragedy,\nMonsieur Thuran joined her with many expressions of kindly solicitude.\n\n\"Oh, but it is terrible, Miss Strong,\" he said. \"I cannot rid my mind\nof it.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" said the girl wearily. \"I feel that he might have been saved\nhad I but given the alarm.\"\n\n\"You must not reproach yourself, my dear Miss Strong,\" urged Monsieur\nThuran. \"It was in no way your fault. Another would have done as you\ndid. Who would think that because something fell into the sea from a\nship that it must necessarily be a man? Nor would the outcome have\nbeen different had you given an alarm. For a while they would have\ndoubted your story, thinking it but the nervous hallucination of a\nwoman--had you insisted it would have been too late to have rescued him\nby the time the ship could have been brought to a stop, and the boats\nlowered and rowed back miles in search of the unknown spot where the\ntragedy had occurred. No, you must not censure yourself. You have\ndone more than any other of us for poor Mr. Caldwell--you were the only\none to miss him. It was you who instituted the search.\"\n\nThe girl could not help but feel grateful to him for his kind and\nencouraging words. He was with her often--almost constantly for the\nremainder of the voyage--and she grew to like him very much indeed.\nMonsieur Thuran had learned that the beautiful Miss Strong, of\nBaltimore, was an American heiress--a very wealthy girl in her own\nright, and with future prospects that quite took his breath away when\nhe contemplated them, and since he spent most of his time in that\ndelectable pastime it is a wonder that he breathed at all.\n\nIt had been Monsieur Thuran\'s intention to leave the ship at the first\nport they touched after the disappearance of Tarzan. Did he not have\nin his coat pocket the thing he had taken passage upon this very boat\nto obtain? There was nothing more to detain him here. He could not\nreturn to the Continent fast enough, that he might board the first\nexpress for St. Petersburg.\n\nBut now another idea had obtruded itself, and was rapidly crowding his\noriginal intentions into the background. That American fortune was not\nto be sneezed at, nor was its possessor a whit less attractive.\n\n\"SAPRISTI! but she would cause a sensation in St. Petersburg.\" And he\nwould, too, with the assistance of her inheritance.\n\nAfter Monsieur Thuran had squandered a few million dollars, he\ndiscovered that the vocation was so entirely to his liking that he\nwould continue on down to Cape Town, where he suddenly decided that he\nhad pressing engagements that might detain him there for some time.\n\nMiss Strong had told him that she and her mother were to visit the\nlatter\'s brother there--they had not decided upon the duration of their\nstay, and it would probably run into months.\n\nShe was delighted when she found that Monsieur Thuran was to be there\nalso.\n\n\"I hope that we shall be able to continue our acquaintance,\" she said.\n\"You must call upon mamma and me as soon as we are settled.\"\n\nMonsieur Thuran was delighted at the prospect, and lost no time in\nsaying so. Mrs. Strong was not quite so favorably impressed by him as\nher daughter.\n\n\"I do not know why I should distrust him,\" she said to Hazel one day as\nthey were discussing him. \"He seems a perfect gentleman in every\nrespect, but sometimes there is something about his eyes--a fleeting\nexpression which I cannot describe, but which when I see it gives me a\nvery uncanny feeling.\"\n\nThe girl laughed. \"You are a silly dear, mamma,\" she said.\n\n\"I suppose so, but I am sorry that we have not poor Mr. Caldwell for\ncompany instead.\"\n\n\"And I, too,\" replied her daughter.\n\nMonsieur Thuran became a frequent visitor at the home of Hazel Strong\'s\nuncle in Cape Town. His attentions were very marked, but they were so\npunctiliously arranged to meet the girl\'s every wish that she came to\ndepend upon him more and more. Did she or her mother or a cousin\nrequire an escort--was there a little friendly service to be rendered,\nthe genial and ubiquitous Monsieur Thuran was always available. Her\nuncle and his family grew to like him for his unfailing courtesy and\nwillingness to be of service. Monsieur Thuran was becoming\nindispensable. At length, feeling the moment propitious, he proposed.\nMiss Strong was startled. She did not know what to say.\n\n\"I had never thought that you cared for me in any such way,\" she told\nhim. \"I have looked upon you always as a very dear friend. I shall\nnot give you my answer now. Forget that you have asked me to be your\nwife. Let us go on as we have been--then I can consider you from an\nentirely different angle for a time. It may be that I shall discover\nthat my feeling for you is more than friendship. I certainly have not\nthought for a moment that I loved you.\"\n\nThis arrangement was perfectly satisfactory to Monsieur Thuran. He\ndeeply regretted that he had been hasty, but he had loved her for so\nlong a time, and so devotedly, that he thought that every one must know\nit.\n\n\"From the first time I saw you, Hazel,\" he said, \"I have loved you. I\nam willing to wait, for I am certain that so great and pure a love as\nmine will be rewarded. All that I care to know is that you do not love\nanother. Will you tell me?\"\n\n\"I have never been in love in my life,\" she replied, and he was quite\nsatisfied. On the way home that night he purchased a steam yacht, and\nbuilt a million-dollar villa on the Black Sea.\n\nThe next day Hazel Strong enjoyed one of the happiest surprises of her\nlife--she ran face to face upon Jane Porter as she was coming out of a\njeweler\'s shop.\n\n\"Why, Jane Porter!\" she exclaimed. \"Where in the world did you drop\nfrom? Why, I can\'t believe my own eyes.\"\n\n\"Well, of all things!\" cried the equally astonished Jane. \"And here I\nhave been wasting whole reams of perfectly good imagination picturing\nyou in Baltimore--the very idea!\" And she threw her arms about her\nfriend once more, and kissed her a dozen times.\n\nBy the time mutual explanations had been made Hazel knew that Lord\nTennington\'s yacht had put in at Cape Town for at least a week\'s stay,\nand at the end of that time was to continue on her voyage--this time up\nthe West Coast--and so back to England. \"Where,\" concluded Jane, \"I am\nto be married.\"\n\n\"Then you are not married yet?\" asked Hazel.\n\n\"Not yet,\" replied Jane, and then, quite irrelevantly, \"I wish England\nwere a million miles from here.\"\n\nVisits were exchanged between the yacht and Hazel\'s relatives. Dinners\nwere arranged, and trips into the surrounding country to entertain the\nvisitors. Monsieur Thuran was a welcome guest at every function. He\ngave a dinner himself to the men of the party, and managed to\ningratiate himself in the good will of Lord Tennington by many little\nacts of hospitality.\n\nMonsieur Thuran had heard dropped a hint of something which might\nresult from this unexpected visit of Lord Tennington\'s yacht, and he\nwanted to be counted in on it. Once when he was alone with the\nEnglishman he took occasion to make it quite plain that his engagement\nto Miss Strong was to be announced immediately upon their return to\nAmerica. \"But not a word of it, my dear Tennington--not a word of it.\"\n\n\"Certainly, I quite understand, my dear fellow,\" Tennington had\nreplied. \"But you are to be congratulated--ripping girl, don\'t you\nknow--really.\"\n\nThe next day it came. Mrs. Strong, Hazel, and Monsieur Thuran were\nLord Tennington\'s guests aboard his yacht. Mrs. Strong had been\ntelling them how much she had enjoyed her visit at Cape Town, and that\nshe regretted that a letter just received from her attorneys in\nBaltimore had necessitated her cutting her visit shorter than they had\nintended.\n\n\"When do you sail?\" asked Tennington.\n\n\"The first of the week, I think,\" she replied. \"Indeed?\" exclaimed\nMonsieur Thuran. \"I am very fortunate. I, too, have found that I must\nreturn at once, and now I shall have the honor of accompanying and\nserving you.\"\n\n\"That is nice of you, Monsieur Thuran,\" replied Mrs. Strong. \"I am\nsure that we shall be glad to place ourselves under your protection.\"\nBut in the bottom of her heart was the wish that they might escape him.\nWhy, she could not have told.\n\n\"By Jove!\" ejaculated Lord Tennington, a moment later. \"Bully idea, by\nJove!\"\n\n\"Yes, Tennington, of course,\" ventured Clayton; \"it must be a bully\nidea if you had it, but what the deuce is it? Goin\' to steam to China\nvia the south pole?\"\n\n\"Oh, I say now, Clayton,\" returned Tennington, \"you needn\'t be so rough\non a fellow just because you didn\'t happen to suggest this trip\nyourself--you\'ve acted a regular bounder ever since we sailed.\n\n\"No, sir,\" he continued, \"it\'s a bully idea, and you\'ll all say so.\nIt\'s to take Mrs. Strong and Miss Strong, and Thuran, too, if he\'ll\ncome, as far as England with us on the yacht. Now, isn\'t that a\ncorker?\"\n\n\"Forgive me, Tenny, old boy,\" cried Clayton. \"It certainly IS a\ncorking idea--I never should have suspected you of it. You\'re quite\nsure it\'s original, are you?\"\n\n\"And we\'ll sail the first of the week, or any other time that suits\nyour convenience, Mrs. Strong,\" concluded the big-hearted Englishman,\nas though the thing were all arranged except the sailing date.\n\n\"Mercy, Lord Tennington, you haven\'t even given us an opportunity to\nthank you, much less decide whether we shall be able to accept your\ngenerous invitation,\" said Mrs. Strong.\n\n\"Why, of course you\'ll come,\" responded Tennington. \"We\'ll make as\ngood time as any passenger boat, and you\'ll be fully as comfortable;\nand, anyway, we all want you, and won\'t take no for an answer.\"\n\nAnd so it was settled that they should sail the following Monday.\n\nTwo days out the girls were sitting in Hazel\'s cabin, looking at some\nprints she had had finished in Cape Town. They represented all the\npictures she had taken since she had left America, and the girls were\nboth engrossed in them, Jane asking many questions, and Hazel keeping\nup a perfect torrent of comment and explanation of the various scenes\nand people.\n\n\"And here,\" she said suddenly, \"here\'s a man you know. Poor fellow, I\nhave so often intended asking you about him, but I never have been able\nto think of it when we were together.\" She was holding the little print\nso that Jane did not see the face of the man it portrayed.\n\n\"His name was John Caldwell,\" continued Hazel. \"Do you recall him? He\nsaid that he met you in America. He is an Englishman.\"\n\n\"I do not recollect the name,\" replied Jane. \"Let me see the picture.\"\n\"The poor fellow was lost overboard on our trip down the coast,\" she\nsaid, as she handed the print to Jane.\n\n\"Lost over--Why, Hazel, Hazel--don\'t tell me that he is dead--drowned\nat sea! Hazel! Why don\'t you say that you are joking!\" And before the\nastonished Miss Strong could catch her Jane Porter had slipped to the\nfloor in a swoon.\n\nAfter Hazel had restored her chum to consciousness she sat looking at\nher for a long time before either spoke.\n\n\"I did not know, Jane,\" said Hazel, in a constrained voice, \"that you\nknew Mr. Caldwell so intimately that his death could prove such a shock\nto you.\"\n\n\"John Caldwell?\" questioned Miss Porter. \"You do not mean to tell me\nthat you do not know who this man was, Hazel?\"\n\n\"Why, yes, Jane; I know perfectly well who he was--his name was John\nCaldwell; he was from London.\"\n\n\"Oh, Hazel, I wish I could believe it,\" moaned the girl. \"I wish I\ncould believe it, but those features are burned so deep into my memory\nand my heart that I should recognize them anywhere in the world from\namong a thousand others, who might appear identical to any one but me.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Jane?\" cried Hazel, now thoroughly alarmed. \"Who do\nyou think it is?\"\n\n\"I don\'t think, Hazel. I know that that is a picture of Tarzan of the\nApes.\"\n\n\"Jane!\"\n\n\"I cannot be mistaken. Oh, Hazel, are you sure that he is dead? Can\nthere be no mistake?\"\n\n\"I am afraid not, dear,\" answered Hazel sadly. \"I wish I could think\nthat you are mistaken, but now a hundred and one little pieces of\ncorroborative evidence occur to me that meant nothing to me while I\nthought that he was John Caldwell, of London. He said that he had been\nborn in Africa, and educated in France.\"\n\n\"Yes, that would be true,\" murmured Jane Porter dully.\n\n\"The first officer, who searched his luggage, found nothing to identify\nJohn Caldwell, of London. Practically all his belongings had been\nmade, or purchased, in Paris. Everything that bore an initial was\nmarked either with a \'T\' alone, or with \'J. C. T.\' We thought that he\nwas traveling incognito under his first two names--the J. C. standing\nfor John Caldwell.\"\n\n\"Tarzan of the Apes took the name Jean C. Tarzan,\" said Jane, in the\nsame lifeless monotone. \"And he is dead! Oh! Hazel, it is horrible!\nHe died all alone in this terrible ocean! It is unbelievable that that\nbrave heart should have ceased to beat--that those mighty muscles are\nquiet and cold forever! That he who was the personification of life\nand health and manly strength should be the prey of slimy, crawling\nthings, that--\" But she could go no further, and with a little moan\nshe buried her head in her arms, and sank sobbing to the floor.\n\nFor days Miss Porter was ill, and would see no one except Hazel and the\nfaithful Esmeralda. When at last she came on deck all were struck by\nthe sad change that had taken place in her. She was no longer the\nalert, vivacious American beauty who had charmed and delighted all who\ncame in contact with her. Instead she was a very quiet and sad little\ngirl--with an expression of hopeless wistfulness that none but Hazel\nStrong could interpret.\n\nThe entire party strove their utmost to cheer and amuse her, but all to\nno avail. Occasionally the jolly Lord Tennington would wring a wan\nsmile from her, but for the most part she sat with wide eyes looking\nout across the sea.\n\nWith Jane Porter\'s illness one misfortune after another seemed to\nattack the yacht. First an engine broke down, and they drifted for two\ndays while temporary repairs were being made. Then a squall struck\nthem unaware, that carried overboard nearly everything above deck that\nwas portable. Later two of the seamen fell to fighting in the\nforecastle, with the result that one of them was badly wounded with a\nknife, and the other had to be put in irons. Then, to cap the climax,\nthe mate fell overboard at night, and was drowned before help could\nreach him. The yacht cruised about the spot for ten hours, but no sign\nof the man was seen after he disappeared from the deck into the sea.\n\nEvery member of the crew and guests was gloomy and depressed after\nthese series of misfortunes. All were apprehensive of worse to come,\nand this was especially true of the seamen who recalled all sorts of\nterrible omens and warnings that had occurred during the early part of\nthe voyage, and which they could now clearly translate into the\nprecursors of some grim and terrible tragedy to come.\n\nNor did the croakers have long to wait. The second night after the\ndrowning of the mate the little yacht was suddenly wracked from stem to\nstern. About one o\'clock in the morning there was a terrific impact\nthat threw the slumbering guests and crew from berth and bunk. A\nmighty shudder ran through the frail craft; she lay far over to\nstarboard; the engines stopped. For a moment she hung there with her\ndecks at an angle of forty-five degrees--then, with a sullen, rending\nsound, she slipped back into the sea and righted.\n\nInstantly the men rushed upon deck, followed closely by the women.\nThough the night was cloudy, there was little wind or sea, nor was it\nso dark but that just off the port bow a black mass could be discerned\nfloating low in the water.\n\n\"A derelict,\" was the terse explanation of the officer of the watch.\n\nPresently the engineer hurried on deck in search of the captain.\n\n\"That patch we put on the cylinder head\'s blown out, sir,\" he reported,\n\"and she\'s makin\' water fast for\'ard on the port bow.\"\n\nAn instant later a seaman rushed up from below.\n\n\"My Gawd!\" he cried. \"Her whole bleedin\' bottom\'s ripped out. She\ncan\'t float twenty minutes.\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" roared Tennington. \"Ladies, go below and get some of your\nthings together. It may not be so bad as that, but we may have to take\nto the boats. It will be safer to be prepared. Go at once, please.\nAnd, Captain Jerrold, send some competent man below, please, to\nascertain the exact extent of the damage. In the meantime I might\nsuggest that you have the boats provisioned.\"\n\nThe calm, low voice of the owner did much to reassure the entire party,\nand a moment later all were occupied with the duties he had suggested.\nBy the time the ladies had returned to the deck the rapid provisioning\nof the boats had been about completed, and a moment later the officer\nwho had gone below had returned to report. But his opinion was\nscarcely needed to assure the huddled group of men and women that the\nend of the LADY ALICE was at hand.\n\n\"Well, sir?\" said the captain, as his officer hesitated.\n\n\"I dislike to frighten the ladies, sir,\" he said, \"but she can\'t float\na dozen minutes, in my opinion. There\'s a hole in her you could drive\na bally cow through, sir.\"\n\nFor five minutes the LADY ALICE had been settling rapidly by the bow.\nAlready her stern loomed high in the air, and foothold on the deck was\nof the most precarious nature. She carried four boats, and these were\nall filled and lowered away in safety. As they pulled rapidly from the\nstricken little vessel Jane Porter turned to have one last look at her.\nJust then there came a loud crash and an ominous rumbling and pounding\nfrom the heart of the ship--her machinery had broken loose, and was\ndashing its way toward the bow, tearing out partitions and bulkheads as\nit went--the stern rose rapidly high above them; for a moment she\nseemed to pause there--a vertical shaft protruding from the bosom of\nthe ocean, and then swiftly she dove headforemost beneath the waves.\n\nIn one of the boats the brave Lord Tennington wiped a tear from his\neye--he had not seen a fortune in money go down forever into the sea,\nbut a dear, beautiful friend whom he had loved.\n\nAt last the long night broke, and a tropical sun smote down upon the\nrolling water. Jane Porter had dropped into a fitful slumber--the\nfierce light of the sun upon her upturned face awoke her. She looked\nabout her. In the boat with her were three sailors, Clayton, and\nMonsieur Thuran. Then she looked for the other boats, but as far as\nthe eye could reach there was nothing to break the fearful monotony of\nthat waste of waters--they were alone in a small boat upon the broad\nAtlantic.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 14\n\nBack to the Primitive\n\n\nAs Tarzan struck the water, his first impulse was to swim clear of the\nship and possible danger from her propellers. He knew whom to thank\nfor his present predicament, and as he lay in the sea, just supporting\nhimself by a gentle movement of his hands, his chief emotion was one of\nchagrin that he had been so easily bested by Rokoff.\n\nHe lay thus for some time, watching the receding and rapidly\ndiminishing lights of the steamer without it ever once occurring to him\nto call for help. He never had called for help in his life, and so it\nis not strange that he did not think of it now. Always had he depended\nupon his own prowess and resourcefulness, nor had there ever been since\nthe days of Kala any to answer an appeal for succor. When it did occur\nto him it was too late.\n\nThere was, thought Tarzan, a possible one chance in a hundred thousand\nthat he might be picked up, and an even smaller chance that he would\nreach land, so he determined that to combine what slight chances there\nwere, he would swim slowly in the direction of the coast--the ship\nmight have been closer in than he had known.\n\nHis strokes were long and easy--it would be many hours before those\ngiant muscles would commence to feel fatigue. As he swam, guided\ntoward the east by the stars, he noticed that he felt the weight of his\nshoes, and so he removed them. His trousers went next, and he would\nhave removed his coat at the same time but for the precious papers in\nits pocket. To assure himself that he still had them he slipped his\nhand in to feel, but to his consternation they were gone.\n\nNow he knew that something more than revenge had prompted Rokoff to\npitch him overboard--the Russian had managed to obtain possession of\nthe papers Tarzan had wrested from him at Bou Saada. The ape-man swore\nsoftly, and let his coat and shirt sink into the Atlantic. Before many\nhours he had divested himself of his remaining garments, and was\nswimming easily and unencumbered toward the east.\n\nThe first faint evidence of dawn was paling the stars ahead of him when\nthe dim outlines of a low-lying black mass loomed up directly in his\ntrack. A few strong strokes brought him to its side--it was the bottom\nof a wave-washed derelict. Tarzan clambered upon it--he would rest\nthere until daylight at least. He had no intention to remain there\ninactive--a prey to hunger and thirst. If he must die he preferred\ndying in action while making some semblance of an attempt to save\nhimself.\n\nThe sea was quiet, so that the wreck had only a gently undulating\nmotion, that was nothing to the swimmer who had had no sleep for twenty\nhours. Tarzan of the Apes curled up upon the slimy timbers, and was\nsoon asleep.\n\nThe heat of the sun awoke him early in the forenoon. His first\nconscious sensation was of thirst, which grew almost to the proportions\nof suffering with full returning consciousness; but a moment later it\nwas forgotten in the joy of two almost simultaneous discoveries. The\nfirst was a mass of wreckage floating beside the derelict in the midst\nof which, bottom up, rose and fell an overturned lifeboat; the other\nwas the faint, dim line of a far-distant shore showing on the horizon\nin the east.\n\nTarzan dove into the water, and swam around the wreck to the lifeboat.\nThe cool ocean refreshed him almost as much as would a draft of water,\nso that it was with renewed vigor that he brought the smaller boat\nalongside the derelict, and, after many herculean efforts, succeeded in\ndragging it onto the slimy ship\'s bottom. There he righted and\nexamined it--the boat was quite sound, and a moment later floated\nupright alongside the wreck. Then Tarzan selected several pieces of\nwreckage that might answer him as paddles, and presently was making\ngood headway toward the far-off shore.\n\nIt was late in the afternoon by the time he came close enough to\ndistinguish objects on land, or to make out the contour of the shore\nline. Before him lay what appeared to be the entrance to a little,\nlandlocked harbor. The wooded point to the north was strangely\nfamiliar. Could it be possible that fate had thrown him up at the very\nthreshold of his own beloved jungle! But as the bow of his boat\nentered the mouth of the harbor the last shred of doubt was cleared\naway, for there before him upon the farther shore, under the shadows of\nhis primeval forest, stood his own cabin--built before his birth by the\nhand of his long-dead father, John Clayton, Lord Greystoke.\n\nWith long sweeps of his giant muscles Tarzan sent the little craft\nspeeding toward the beach. Its prow had scarcely touched when the\nape-man leaped to shore--his heart beat fast in joy and exultation as\neach long-familiar object came beneath his roving eyes--the cabin, the\nbeach, the little brook, the dense jungle, the black, impenetrable\nforest. The myriad birds in their brilliant plumage--the gorgeous\ntropical blooms upon the festooned creepers falling in great loops from\nthe giant trees.\n\nTarzan of the Apes had come into his own again, and that all the world\nmight know it he threw back his young head, and gave voice to the\nfierce, wild challenge of his tribe. For a moment silence reigned upon\nthe jungle, and then, low and weird, came an answering challenge--it\nwas the deep roar of Numa, the lion; and from a great distance,\nfaintly, the fearsome answering bellow of a bull ape.\n\nTarzan went to the brook first, and slaked his thirst. Then he\napproached his cabin. The door was still closed and latched as he and\nD\'Arnot had left it. He raised the latch and entered. Nothing had\nbeen disturbed; there were the table, the bed, and the little crib\nbuilt by his father--the shelves and cupboards just as they had stood\nfor over twenty-three years--just as he had left them nearly two years\nbefore.\n\nHis eyes satisfied, Tarzan\'s stomach began to call aloud for\nattention--the pangs of hunger suggested a search for food. There was\nnothing in the cabin, nor had he any weapons; but upon a wall hung one\nof his old grass ropes. It had been many times broken and spliced, so\nthat he had discarded it for a better one long before. Tarzan wished\nthat he had a knife. Well, unless he was mistaken he should have that\nand a spear and bows and arrows before another sun had set--the rope\nwould take care of that, and in the meantime it must be made to procure\nfood for him. He coiled it carefully, and, throwing it about his\nshoulder, went out, closing the door behind him.\n\nClose to the cabin the jungle commenced, and into it Tarzan of the Apes\nplunged, wary and noiseless--once more a savage beast hunting its food.\nFor a time he kept to the ground, but finally, discovering no spoor\nindicative of nearby meat, he took to the trees. With the first dizzy\nswing from tree to tree all the old joy of living swept over him. Vain\nregrets and dull heartache were forgotten. Now was he living. Now,\nindeed, was the true happiness of perfect freedom his. Who would go\nback to the stifling, wicked cities of civilized man when the mighty\nreaches of the great jungle offered peace and liberty? Not he.\n\nWhile it was yet light Tarzan came to a drinking place by the side of a\njungle river. There was a ford there, and for countless ages the\nbeasts of the forest had come down to drink at this spot. Here of a\nnight might always be found either Sabor or Numa crouching in the dense\nfoliage of the surrounding jungle awaiting an antelope or a water buck\nfor their meal. Here came Horta, the boar, to water, and here came\nTarzan of the Apes to make a kill, for he was very empty.\n\nOn a low branch he squatted above the trail. For an hour he waited.\nIt was growing dark. A little to one side of the ford in the densest\nthicket he heard the faint sound of padded feet, and the brushing of a\nhuge body against tall grasses and tangled creepers. None other than\nTarzan might have heard it, but the ape-man heard and translated--it\nwas Numa, the lion, on the same errand as himself. Tarzan smiled.\n\nPresently he heard an animal approaching warily along the trail toward\nthe drinking place. A moment more and it came in view--it was Horta,\nthe boar. Here was delicious meat--and Tarzan\'s mouth watered. The\ngrasses where Numa lay were very still now--ominously still. Horta\npassed beneath Tarzan--a few more steps and he would be within the\nradius of Numa\'s spring. Tarzan could imagine how old Numa\'s eyes were\nshining--how he was already sucking in his breath for the awful roar\nwhich would freeze his prey for the brief instant between the moment of\nthe spring and the sinking of terrible fangs into splintering bones.\n\nBut as Numa gathered himself, a slender rope flew through the air from\nthe low branches of a near-by tree. A noose settled about Horta\'s\nneck. There was a frightened grunt, a squeal, and then Numa saw his\nquarry dragged backward up the trail, and, as he sprang, Horta, the\nboar, soared upward beyond his clutches into the tree above, and a\nmocking face looked down and laughed into his own.\n\nThen indeed did Numa roar. Angry, threatening, hungry, he paced back\nand forth beneath the taunting ape-man. Now he stopped, and, rising on\nhis hind legs against the stem of the tree that held his enemy,\nsharpened his huge claws upon the bark, tearing out great pieces that\nlaid bare the white wood beneath.\n\nAnd in the meantime Tarzan had dragged the struggling Horta to the limb\nbeside him. Sinewy fingers completed the work the choking noose had\ncommenced. The ape-man had no knife, but nature had equipped him with\nthe means of tearing his food from the quivering flank of his prey, and\ngleaming teeth sank into the succulent flesh while the raging lion\nlooked on from below as another enjoyed the dinner that he had thought\nalready his.\n\nIt was quite dark by the time Tarzan had gorged himself. Ah, but it\nhad been delicious! Never had he quite accustomed himself to the\nruined flesh that civilized men had served him, and in the bottom of\nhis savage heart there had constantly been the craving for the warm\nmeat of the fresh kill, and the rich, red blood.\n\nHe wiped his bloody hands upon a bunch of leaves, slung the remains of\nhis kill across his shoulder, and swung off through the middle terrace\nof the forest toward his cabin, and at the same instant Jane Porter and\nWilliam Cecil Clayton arose from a sumptuous dinner upon the LADY\nALICE, thousands of miles to the east, in the Indian Ocean.\n\nBeneath Tarzan walked Numa, the lion, and when the ape-man deigned to\nglance downward he caught occasional glimpses of the baleful green eyes\nfollowing through the darkness. Numa did not roar now--instead, he\nmoved stealthily, like the shadow of a great cat; but yet he took no\nstep that did not reach the sensitive ears of the ape-man.\n\nTarzan wondered if he would stalk him to his cabin door. He hoped not,\nfor that would mean a night\'s sleep curled in the crotch of a tree, and\nhe much preferred the bed of grasses within his own abode. But he knew\njust the tree and the most comfortable crotch, if necessity demanded\nthat he sleep out. A hundred times in the past some great jungle cat\nhad followed him home, and compelled him to seek shelter in this same\ntree, until another mood or the rising sun had sent his enemy away.\n\nBut presently Numa gave up the chase and, with a series of\nblood-curdling moans and roars, turned angrily back in search of\nanother and an easier dinner. So Tarzan came to his cabin unattended,\nand a few moments later was curled up in the mildewed remnants of what\nhad once been a bed of grasses. Thus easily did Monsieur Jean C.\nTarzan slough the thin skin of his artificial civilization, and sink\nhappy and contented into the deep sleep of the wild beast that has fed\nto repletion. Yet a woman\'s \"yes\" would have bound him to that other\nlife forever, and made the thought of this savage existence repulsive.\n\nTarzan slept late into the following forenoon, for he had been very\ntired from the labors and exertion of the long night and day upon the\nocean, and the jungle jaunt that had brought into play muscles that he\nhad scarce used for nearly two years. When he awoke he ran to the\nbrook first to drink. Then he took a plunge into the sea, swimming\nabout for a quarter of an hour. Afterward he returned to his cabin,\nand breakfasted off the flesh of Horta. This done, he buried the\nbalance of the carcass in the soft earth outside the cabin, for his\nevening meal.\n\nOnce more he took his rope and vanished into the jungle. This time he\nhunted nobler quarry--man; although had you asked him his own opinion\nhe could have named a dozen other denizens of the jungle which he\nconsidered far the superiors in nobility of the men he hunted. Today\nTarzan was in quest of weapons. He wondered if the women and children\nhad remained in Mbonga\'s village after the punitive expedition from the\nFrench cruiser had massacred all the warriors in revenge for D\'Arnot\'s\nsupposed death. He hoped that he should find warriors there, for he\nknew not how long a quest he should have to make were the village\ndeserted.\n\nThe ape-man traveled swiftly through the forest, and about noon came to\nthe site of the village, but to his disappointment found that the\njungle had overgrown the plantain fields and that the thatched huts had\nfallen in decay. There was no sign of man. He clambered about among\nthe ruins for half an hour, hoping that he might discover some\nforgotten weapon, but his search was without fruit, and so he took up\nhis quest once more, following up the stream, which flowed from a\nsoutheasterly direction. He knew that near fresh water he would be\nmost likely to find another settlement.\n\nAs he traveled he hunted as he had hunted with his ape people in the\npast, as Kala had taught him to hunt, turning over rotted logs to find\nsome toothsome vermin, running high into the trees to rob a bird\'s\nnest, or pouncing upon a tiny rodent with the quickness of a cat.\nThere were other things that he ate, too, but the less detailed the\naccount of an ape\'s diet, the better--and Tarzan was again an ape, the\nsame fierce, brutal anthropoid that Kala had taught him to be, and that\nhe had been for the first twenty years of his life.\n\nOccasionally he smiled as he recalled some friend who might even at the\nmoment be sitting placid and immaculate within the precincts of his\nselect Parisian club--just as Tarzan had sat but a few months before;\nand then he would stop, as though turned suddenly to stone as the\ngentle breeze carried to his trained nostrils the scent of some new\nprey or a formidable enemy.\n\nThat night he slept far inland from his cabin, securely wedged into the\ncrotch of a giant tree, swaying a hundred feet above the ground. He\nhad eaten heartily again--this time from the flesh of Bara, the deer,\nwho had fallen prey to his quick noose.\n\nEarly the next morning he resumed his journey, always following the\ncourse of the stream. For three days he continued his quest, until he\nhad come to a part of the jungle in which he never before had been.\nOccasionally upon the higher ground the forest was much thinner, and in\nthe far distance through the trees he could see ranges of mighty\nmountains, with wide plains in the foreground. Here, in the open\nspaces, were new game--countless antelope and vast herds of zebra.\nTarzan was entranced--he would make a long visit to this new world.\n\nOn the morning of the fourth day his nostrils were suddenly surprised\nby a faint new scent. It was the scent of man, but yet a long way off.\nThe ape-man thrilled with pleasure. Every sense was on the alert as\nwith crafty stealth he moved quickly through the trees, up-wind, in the\ndirection of his prey. Presently he came upon it--a lone warrior\ntreading softly through the jungle.\n\nTarzan followed close above his quarry, waiting for a clearer space in\nwhich to hurl his rope. As he stalked the unconscious man, new\nthoughts presented themselves to the ape-man--thoughts born of the\nrefining influences of civilization, and of its cruelties. It came to\nhim that seldom if ever did civilized man kill a fellow being without\nsome pretext, however slight. It was true that Tarzan wished this\nman\'s weapons and ornaments, but was it necessary to take his life to\nobtain them?\n\nThe longer he thought about it, the more repugnant became the thought\nof taking human life needlessly; and thus it happened that while he was\ntrying to decide just what to do, they had come to a little clearing,\nat the far side of which lay a palisaded village of beehive huts.\n\nAs the warrior emerged from the forest, Tarzan caught a fleeting\nglimpse of a tawny hide worming its way through the matted jungle\ngrasses in his wake--it was Numa, the lion. He, too, was stalking the\nblack man. With the instant that Tarzan realized the native\'s danger\nhis attitude toward his erstwhile prey altered completely--now he was a\nfellow man threatened by a common enemy.\n\nNuma was about to charge--there was little time in which to compare\nvarious methods or weigh the probable results of any. And then a\nnumber of things happened, almost simultaneously--the lion sprang from\nhis ambush toward the retreating black--Tarzan cried out in\nwarning--and the black turned just in time to see Numa halted in\nmid-flight by a slender strand of grass rope, the noosed end of which\nhad fallen cleanly about his neck.\n\nThe ape-man had acted so quickly that he had been unable to prepare\nhimself to withstand the strain and shock of Numa\'s great weight upon\nthe rope, and so it was that though the rope stopped the beast before\nhis mighty talons could fasten themselves in the flesh of the black,\nthe strain overbalanced Tarzan, who came tumbling to the ground not six\npaces from the infuriated animal. Like lightning Numa turned upon this\nnew enemy, and, defenseless as he was, Tarzan of the Apes was nearer to\ndeath that instant than he ever before had been. It was the black who\nsaved him. The warrior realized in an instant that he owed his life to\nthis strange white man, and he also saw that only a miracle could save\nhis preserver from those fierce yellow fangs that had been so near to\nhis own flesh.\n\nWith the quickness of thought his spear arm flew back, and then shot\nforward with all the force of the sinewy muscles that rolled beneath\nthe shimmering ebon hide. True to its mark the iron-shod weapon flew,\ntransfixing Numa\'s sleek carcass from the right groin to beneath the\nleft shoulder. With a hideous scream of rage and pain the brute turned\nagain upon the black. A dozen paces he had gone when Tarzan\'s rope\nbrought him to a stand once more--then he wheeled again upon the\nape-man, only to feel the painful prick of a barbed arrow as it sank\nhalf its length in his quivering flesh. Again he stopped, and by this\ntime Tarzan had run twice around the stem of a great tree with his\nrope, and made the end fast.\n\nThe black saw the trick, and grinned, but Tarzan knew that Numa must be\nquickly finished before those mighty teeth had found and parted the\nslender cord that held him. It was a matter of but an instant to reach\nthe black\'s side and drag his long knife from its scabbard. Then he\nsigned the warrior to continue to shoot arrows into the great beast\nwhile he attempted to close in upon him with the knife; so as one\ntantalized upon one side, the other sneaked cautiously in upon the\nother. Numa was furious. He raised his voice in a perfect frenzy of\nshrieks, growls, and hideous moans, the while he reared upon his hind\nlegs in futile attempt to reach first one and then the other of his\ntormentors.\n\nBut at length the agile ape-man saw his chance, and rushed in upon the\nbeast\'s left side behind the mighty shoulder. A giant arm encircled\nthe tawny throat, and a long blade sank once, true as a die, into the\nfierce heart. Then Tarzan arose, and the black man and the white\nlooked into each other\'s eyes across the body of their kill--and the\nblack made the sign of peace and friendship, and Tarzan of the Apes\nanswered in kind.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 15\n\nFrom Ape to Savage\n\n\nThe noise of their battle with Numa had drawn an excited horde of\nsavages from the nearby village, and a moment after the lion\'s death\nthe two men were surrounded by lithe, ebon warriors, gesticulating and\njabbering--a thousand questions that drowned each ventured reply.\n\nAnd then the women came, and the children--eager, curious, and, at\nsight of Tarzan, more questioning than ever. The ape-man\'s new friend\nfinally succeeded in making himself heard, and when he had done talking\nthe men and women of the village vied with one another in doing honor\nto the strange creature who had saved their fellow and battled\nsingle-handed with fierce Numa.\n\nAt last they led him back to their village, where they brought him\ngifts of fowl, and goats, and cooked food. When he pointed to their\nweapons the warriors hastened to fetch spear, shield, arrows, and a\nbow. His friend of the encounter presented him with the knife with\nwhich he had killed Numa. There was nothing in all the village he\ncould not have had for the asking.\n\nHow much easier this was, thought Tarzan, than murder and robbery to\nsupply his wants. How close he had been to killing this man whom he\nnever had seen before, and who now was manifesting by every primitive\nmeans at his command friendship and affection for his would-be slayer.\nTarzan of the Apes was ashamed. Hereafter he would at least wait until\nhe knew men deserved it before he thought of killing them.\n\nThe idea recalled Rokoff to his mind. He wished that he might have the\nRussian to himself in the dark jungle for a few minutes. There was a\nman who deserved killing if ever any one did. And if he could have\nseen Rokoff at that moment as he assiduously bent every endeavor to the\npleasant task of ingratiating himself into the affections of the\nbeautiful Miss Strong, he would have longed more than ever to mete out\nto the man the fate he deserved.\n\nTarzan\'s first night with the savages was devoted to a wild orgy in his\nhonor. There was feasting, for the hunters had brought in an antelope\nand a zebra as trophies of their skill, and gallons of the weak native\nbeer were consumed. As the warriors danced in the firelight, Tarzan\nwas again impressed by the symmetry of their figures and the regularity\nof their features--the flat noses and thick lips of the typical West\nCoast savage were entirely missing. In repose the faces of the men\nwere intelligent and dignified, those of the women ofttimes\nprepossessing.\n\nIt was during this dance that the ape-man first noticed that some of\nthe men and many of the women wore ornaments of gold--principally\nanklets and armlets of great weight, apparently beaten out of the solid\nmetal. When he expressed a wish to examine one of these, the owner\nremoved it from her person and insisted, through the medium of signs,\nthat Tarzan accept it as a gift. A close scrutiny of the bauble\nconvinced the ape-man that the article was of virgin gold, and he was\nsurprised, for it was the first time that he had ever seen golden\nornaments among the savages of Africa, other than the trifling baubles\nthose near the coast had purchased or stolen from Europeans. He tried\nto ask them from whence the metal came, but he could not make them\nunderstand.\n\nWhen the dance was done Tarzan signified his intention to leave them,\nbut they almost implored him to accept the hospitality of a great hut\nwhich the chief set apart for his sole use. He tried to explain that\nhe would return in the morning, but they could not understand. When he\nfinally walked away from them toward the side of the village opposite\nthe gate, they were still further mystified as to his intentions.\n\nTarzan, however, knew just what he was about. In the past he had had\nexperience with the rodents and vermin that infest every native\nvillage, and, while he was not overscrupulous about such matters, he\nmuch preferred the fresh air of the swaying trees to the fetid\natmosphere of a hut.\n\nThe natives followed him to where a great tree overhung the palisade,\nand as Tarzan leaped for a lower branch and disappeared into the\nfoliage above, precisely after the manner of Manu, the monkey, there\nwere loud exclamations of surprise and astonishment. For half an hour\nthey called to him to return, but as he did not answer them they at\nlast desisted, and sought the sleeping-mats within their huts.\n\nTarzan went back into the forest a short distance until he had found a\ntree suited to his primitive requirements, and then, curling himself in\na great crotch, he fell immediately into a deep sleep.\n\nThe following morning he dropped into the village street as suddenly as\nhe had disappeared the preceding night. For a moment the natives were\nstartled and afraid, but when they recognized their guest of the night\nbefore they welcomed him with shouts and laughter. That day he\naccompanied a party of warriors to the nearby plains on a great hunt,\nand so dexterous did they find this white man with their own crude\nweapons that another bond of respect and admiration was thereby wrought.\n\nFor weeks Tarzan lived with his savage friends, hunting buffalo,\nantelope, and zebra for meat, and elephant for ivory. Quickly he\nlearned their simple speech, their native customs, and the ethics of\ntheir wild, primitive tribal life. He found that they were not\ncannibals--that they looked with loathing and contempt upon men who ate\nmen.\n\nBusuli, the warrior whom he had stalked to the village, told him many\nof the tribal legends--how, many years before, his people had come many\nlong marches from the north; how once they had been a great and\npowerful tribe; and how the slave raiders had wrought such havoc among\nthem with their death-dealing guns that they had been reduced to a mere\nremnant of their former numbers and power.\n\n\"They hunted us down as one hunts a fierce beast,\" said Busuli. \"There\nwas no mercy in them. When it was not slaves they sought it was ivory,\nbut usually it was both. Our men were killed and our women driven away\nlike sheep. We fought against them for many years, but our arrows and\nspears could not prevail against the sticks which spit fire and lead\nand death to many times the distance that our mightiest warrior could\nplace an arrow. At last, when my father was a young man, the Arabs\ncame again, but our warriors saw them a long way off, and Chowambi, who\nwas chief then, told his people to gather up their belongings and come\naway with him--that he would lead them far to the south until they\nfound a spot to which the Arab raiders did not come.\n\n\"And they did as he bid, carrying all their belongings, including many\ntusks of ivory. For months they wandered, suffering untold hardships\nand privations, for much of the way was through dense jungle, and\nacross mighty mountains, but finally they came to this spot, and\nalthough they sent parties farther on to search for an even better\nlocation, none has ever been found.\"\n\n\"And the raiders have never found you here?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"About a year ago a small party of Arabs and Manyuema stumbled upon us,\nbut we drove them off, killing many. For days we followed them,\nstalking them for the wild beasts they are, picking them off one by\none, until but a handful remained, but these escaped us.\"\n\nAs Busuli talked he fingered a heavy gold armlet that encircled the\nglossy hide of his left arm. Tarzan\'s eyes had been upon the ornament,\nbut his thoughts were elsewhere. Presently he recalled the question he\nhad tried to ask when he first came to the tribe--the question he could\nnot at that time make them understand. For weeks he had forgotten so\ntrivial a thing as gold, for he had been for the time a truly primeval\nman with no thought beyond today. But of a sudden the sight of gold\nawakened the sleeping civilization that was in him, and with it came\nthe lust for wealth. That lesson Tarzan had learned well in his brief\nexperience of the ways of civilized man. He knew that gold meant power\nand pleasure. He pointed to the bauble.\n\n\"From whence came the yellow metal, Busuli?\" he asked.\n\nThe black pointed toward the southeast.\n\n\"A moon\'s march away--maybe more,\" he replied.\n\n\"Have you been there?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"No, but some of our people were there years ago, when my father was\nyet a young man. One of the parties that searched farther for a\nlocation for the tribe when first they settled here came upon a strange\npeople who wore many ornaments of yellow metal. Their spears were\ntipped with it, as were their arrows, and they cooked in vessels made\nall of solid metal like my armlet.\n\n\"They lived in a great village in huts that were built of stone and\nsurrounded by a great wall. They were very fierce, rushing out and\nfalling upon our warriors before ever they learned that their errand\nwas a peaceful one. Our men were few in number, but they held their\nown at the top of a little rocky hill, until the fierce people went\nback at sunset into their wicked city. Then our warriors came down\nfrom their hill, and, after taking many ornaments of yellow metal from\nthe bodies of those they had slain, they marched back out of the\nvalley, nor have any of us ever returned.\n\n\"They are wicked people--neither white like you nor black like me, but\ncovered with hair as is Bolgani, the gorilla. Yes, they are very bad\npeople indeed, and Chowambi was glad to get out of their country.\"\n\n\"And are none of those alive who were with Chowambi, and saw these\nstrange people and their wonderful city?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"Waziri, our chief, was there,\" replied Busuli. \"He was a very young\nman then, but he accompanied Chowambi, who was his father.\"\n\nSo that night Tarzan asked Waziri about it, and Waziri, who was now an\nold man, said that it was a long march, but that the way was not\ndifficult to follow. He remembered it well.\n\n\"For ten days we followed this river which runs beside our village. Up\ntoward its source we traveled until on the tenth day we came to a\nlittle spring far up upon the side of a lofty mountain range. In this\nlittle spring our river is born. The next day we crossed over the top\nof the mountain, and upon the other side we came to a tiny rivulet\nwhich we followed down into a great forest. For many days we traveled\nalong the winding banks of the rivulet that had now become a river,\nuntil we came to a greater river, into which it emptied, and which ran\ndown the center of a mighty valley.\n\n\"Then we followed this large river toward its source, hoping to come to\nmore open land. After twenty days of marching from the time we had\ncrossed the mountains and passed out of our own country we came again\nto another range of mountains. Up their side we followed the great\nriver, that had now dwindled to a tiny rivulet, until we came to a\nlittle cave near the mountain-top. In this cave was the mother of the\nriver.\n\n\"I remember that we camped there that night, and that it was very cold,\nfor the mountains were high. The next day we decided to ascend to the\ntop of the mountains, and see what the country upon the other side\nlooked like, and if it seemed no better than that which we had so far\ntraversed we would return to our village and tell them that they had\nalready found the best place in all the world to live.\n\n\"And so we clambered up the face of the rocky cliffs until we reached\nthe summit, and there from a flat mountain-top we saw, not far beneath\nus, a shallow valley, very narrow; and upon the far side of it was a\ngreat village of stone, much of which had fallen and crumbled into\ndecay.\"\n\nThe balance of Waziri\'s story was practically the same as that which\nBusuli had told.\n\n\"I should like to go there and see this strange city,\" said Tarzan,\n\"and get some of their yellow metal from its fierce inhabitants.\"\n\n\"It is a long march,\" replied Waziri, \"and I am an old man, but if you\nwill wait until the rainy season is over and the rivers have gone down\nI will take some of my warriors and go with you.\"\n\nAnd Tarzan had to be contented with that arrangement, though he would\nhave liked it well enough to have set off the next morning--he was as\nimpatient as a child. Really Tarzan of the Apes was but a child, or a\nprimeval man, which is the same thing in a way.\n\nThe next day but one a small party of hunters returned to the village\nfrom the south to report a large herd of elephant some miles away. By\nclimbing trees they had had a fairly good view of the herd, which they\ndescribed as numbering several large tuskers, a great many cows and\ncalves, and full-grown bulls whose ivory would be worth having.\n\nThe balance of the day and evening was filled with preparation for a\ngreat hunt--spears were overhauled, quivers were replenished, bows were\nrestrung; and all the while the village witch doctor passed through the\nbusy throngs disposing of various charms and amulets designed to\nprotect the possessor from hurt, or bring him good fortune in the\nmorrow\'s hunt.\n\nAt dawn the hunters were off. There were fifty sleek, black warriors,\nand in their midst, lithe and active as a young forest god, strode\nTarzan of the Apes, his brown skin contrasting oddly with the ebony of\nhis companions. Except for color he was one of them. His ornaments\nand weapons were the same as theirs--he spoke their language--he\nlaughed and joked with them, and leaped and shouted in the brief wild\ndance that preceded their departure from the village, to all intent and\npurpose a savage among savages. Nor, had he questioned himself, is it\nto be doubted that he would have admitted that he was far more closely\nallied to these people and their life than to the Parisian friends\nwhose ways, apelike, he had successfully mimicked for a few short\nmonths.\n\nBut he did think of D\'Arnot, and a grin of amusement showed his strong\nwhite teeth as he pictured the immaculate Frenchman\'s expression could\nhe by some means see Tarzan as he was that minute. Poor Paul, who had\nprided himself on having eradicated from his friend the last traces of\nwild savagery. \"How quickly have I fallen!\" thought Tarzan; but in his\nheart he did not consider it a fall--rather, he pitied the poor\ncreatures of Paris, penned up like prisoners in their silly clothes,\nand watched by policemen all their poor lives, that they might do\nnothing that was not entirely artificial and tiresome.\n\nA two hours\' march brought them close to the vicinity in which the\nelephants had been seen the previous day. From there on they moved\nvery quietly indeed searching for the spoor of the great beasts. At\nlength they found the well-marked trail along which the herd had passed\nnot many hours before. In single file they followed it for about half\nan hour. It was Tarzan who first raised his hand in signal that the\nquarry was at hand--his sensitive nose had warned him that the\nelephants were not far ahead of them.\n\nThe blacks were skeptical when he told them how he knew.\n\n\"Come with me,\" said Tarzan, \"and we shall see.\"\n\nWith the agility of a squirrel he sprang into a tree and ran nimbly to\nthe top. One of the blacks followed more slowly and carefully. When\nhe had reached a lofty limb beside the ape-man the latter pointed to\nthe south, and there, some few hundred yards away, the black saw a\nnumber of huge black backs swaying back and forth above the top of the\nlofty jungle grasses. He pointed the direction to the watchers below,\nindicating with his fingers the number of beasts he could count.\n\nImmediately the hunters started toward the elephants. The black in the\ntree hastened down, but Tarzan stalked, after his own fashion, along\nthe leafy way of the middle terrace.\n\nIt is no child\'s play to hunt wild elephants with the crude weapons of\nprimitive man. Tarzan knew that few native tribes ever attempted it,\nand the fact that his tribe did so gave him no little pride--already he\nwas commencing to think of himself as a member of the little community.\nAs Tarzan moved silently through the trees he saw the warriors below\ncreeping in a half circle upon the still unsuspecting elephants.\nFinally they were within sight of the great beasts. Now they singled\nout two large tuskers, and at a signal the fifty men rose from the\nground where they had lain concealed, and hurled their heavy war spears\nat the two marked beasts. There was not a single miss; twenty-five\nspears were embedded in the sides of each of the giant animals. One\nnever moved from the spot where it stood when the avalanche of spears\nstruck it, for two, perfectly aimed, had penetrated its heart, and it\nlunged forward upon its knees, rolling to the ground without a struggle.\n\nThe other, standing nearly head-on toward the hunters, had not proved\nso good a mark, and though every spear struck not one entered the great\nheart. For a moment the huge bull stood trumpeting in rage and pain,\ncasting about with its little eyes for the author of its hurt. The\nblacks had faded into the jungle before the weak eyes of the monster\nhad fallen upon any of them, but now he caught the sound of their\nretreat, and, amid a terrific crashing of underbrush and branches, he\ncharged in the direction of the noise.\n\nIt so happened that chance sent him in the direction of Busuli, whom he\nwas overtaking so rapidly that it was as though the black were standing\nstill instead of racing at full speed to escape the certain death which\npursued him. Tarzan had witnessed the entire performance from the\nbranches of a nearby tree, and now that he saw his friend\'s peril he\nraced toward the infuriated beast with loud cries, hoping to distract\nhim.\n\nBut it had been as well had he saved his breath, for the brute was deaf\nand blind to all else save the particular object of his rage that raced\nfutilely before him. And now Tarzan saw that only a miracle could save\nBusuli, and with the same unconcern with which he had once hunted this\nvery man he hurled himself into the path of the elephant to save the\nblack warrior\'s life.\n\nHe still grasped his spear, and while Tantor was yet six or eight paces\nbehind his prey, a sinewy white warrior dropped as from the heavens,\nalmost directly in his path. With a vicious lunge the elephant swerved\nto the right to dispose of this temerarious foeman who dared intervene\nbetween himself and his intended victim; but he had not reckoned on the\nlightning quickness that could galvanize those steel muscles into\naction so marvelously swift as to baffle even a keener eyesight than\nTantor\'s.\n\nAnd so it happened that before the elephant realized that his new enemy\nhad leaped from his path Tarzan had driven his iron-shod spear from\nbehind the massive shoulder straight into the fierce heart, and the\ncolossal pachyderm had toppled to his death at the feet of the ape-man.\n\nBusuli had not beheld the manner of his deliverance, but Waziri, the\nold chief, had seen, and several of the other warriors, and they hailed\nTarzan with delight as they swarmed about him and his great kill. When\nhe leaped upon the mighty carcass, and gave voice to the weird\nchallenge with which he announced a great victory, the blacks shrank\nback in fear, for to them it marked the brutal Bolgani, whom they\nfeared fully as much as they feared Numa, the lion; but with a fear\nwith which was mixed a certain uncanny awe of the manlike thing to\nwhich they attributed supernatural powers.\n\nBut when Tarzan lowered his raised head and smiled upon them they were\nreassured, though they did not understand. Nor did they ever fully\nunderstand this strange creature who ran through the trees as quickly\nas Manu, yet was even more at home upon the ground than themselves; who\nwas except as to color like unto themselves, yet as powerful as ten of\nthem, and singlehanded a match for the fiercest denizens of the fierce\njungle.\n\nWhen the remainder of the warriors had gathered, the hunt was again\ntaken up and the stalking of the retreating herd once more begun; but\nthey had covered a bare hundred yards when from behind them, at a great\ndistance, sounded faintly a strange popping.\n\nFor an instant they stood like a group of statuary, intently listening.\nThen Tarzan spoke.\n\n\"Guns!\" he said. \"The village is being attacked.\"\n\n\"Come!\" cried Waziri. \"The Arab raiders have returned with their\ncannibal slaves for our ivory and our women!\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter 16\n\nThe Ivory Raiders\n\n\nWaziri\'s warriors marched at a rapid trot through the jungle in the\ndirection of the village. For a few minutes, the sharp cracking of\nguns ahead warned them to haste, but finally the reports dwindled to an\noccasional shot, presently ceasing altogether. Nor was this less\nominous than the rattle of musketry, for it suggested but a single\nsolution to the little band of rescuers--that the illy garrisoned\nvillage had already succumbed to the onslaught of a superior force.\n\nThe returning hunters had covered a little more than three miles of the\nfive that had separated them from the village when they met the first\nof the fugitives who had escaped the bullets and clutches of the foe.\nThere were a dozen women, youths, and girls in the party, and so\nexcited were they that they could scarce make themselves understood as\nthey tried to relate to Waziri the calamity that had befallen his\npeople.\n\n\"They are as many as the leaves of the forest,\" cried one of the women,\nin attempting to explain the enemy\'s force. \"There are many Arabs and\ncountless Manyuema, and they all have guns. They crept close to the\nvillage before we knew that they were about, and then, with many\nshouts, they rushed in upon us, shooting down men, and women, and\nchildren. Those of us who could fled in all directions into the\njungle, but more were killed. I do not know whether they took any\nprisoners or not--they seemed only bent upon killing us all. The\nManyuema called us many names, saying that they would eat us all before\nthey left our country--that this was our punishment for killing their\nfriends last year. I did not hear much, for I ran away quickly.\"\n\nThe march toward the village was now resumed, more slowly and with\ngreater stealth, for Waziri knew that it was too late to rescue--their\nonly mission could be one of revenge. Inside the next mile a hundred\nmore fugitives were met. There were many men among these, and so the\nfighting strength of the party was augmented.\n\nNow a dozen warriors were sent creeping ahead to reconnoiter. Waziri\nremained with the main body, which advanced in a thin line that spread\nin a great crescent through the forest. By the chief\'s side walked\nTarzan.\n\nPresently one of the scouts returned. He had come within sight of the\nvillage.\n\n\"They are all within the palisade,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Good!\" said Waziri. \"We shall rush in upon them and slay them all,\"\nand he made ready to send word along the line that they were to halt at\nthe edge of the clearing until they saw him rush toward the\nvillage--then all were to follow.\n\n\"Wait!\" cautioned Tarzan. \"If there are even fifty guns within the\npalisade we shall be repulsed and slaughtered. Let me go alone through\nthe trees, so that I may look down upon them from above, and see just\nhow many there be, and what chance we might have were we to charge. It\nwere foolish to lose a single man needlessly if there be no hope of\nsuccess. I have an idea that we can accomplish more by cunning than by\nforce. Will you wait, Waziri?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old chief. \"Go!\"\n\nSo Tarzan sprang into the trees and disappeared in the direction of the\nvillage. He moved more cautiously than was his wont, for he knew that\nmen with guns could reach him quite as easily in the treetops as on the\nground. And when Tarzan of the Apes elected to adopt stealth, no\ncreature in all the jungle could move so silently or so completely\nefface himself from the sight of an enemy.\n\nIn five minutes he had wormed his way to the great tree that overhung\nthe palisade at one end of the village, and from his point of vantage\nlooked down upon the savage horde beneath. He counted fifty Arabs and\nestimated that there were five times as many Manyuema. The latter were\ngorging themselves upon food and, under the very noses of their white\nmasters, preparing the gruesome feast which is the PIECE DE RESISTANCE\nthat follows a victory in which the bodies of their slain enemies fall\ninto their horrid hands.\n\nThe ape-man saw that to charge that wild horde, armed as they were with\nguns, and barricaded behind the locked gates of the village, would be a\nfutile task, and so he returned to Waziri and advised him to wait; that\nhe, Tarzan, had a better plan.\n\nBut a moment before one of the fugitives had related to Waziri the\nstory of the atrocious murder of the old chief\'s wife, and so crazed\nwith rage was the old man that he cast discretion to the winds.\nCalling his warriors about him, he commanded them to charge, and, with\nbrandishing spears and savage yells, the little force of scarcely more\nthan a hundred dashed madly toward the village gates. Before the\nclearing had been half crossed the Arabs opened up a withering fire\nfrom behind the palisade.\n\nWith the first volley Waziri fell. The speed of the chargers\nslackened. Another volley brought down a half dozen more. A few\nreached the barred gates, only to be shot in their tracks, without the\nghost of a chance to gain the inside of the palisade, and then the\nwhole attack crumpled, and the remaining warriors scampered back into\nthe forest. As they ran the raiders opened the gates, rushing after\nthem, to complete the day\'s work with the utter extermination of the\ntribe. Tarzan had been among the last to turn back toward the forest,\nand now, as he ran slowly, he turned from time to time to speed a\nwell-aimed arrow into the body of a pursuer.\n\nOnce within the jungle, he found a little knot of determined blacks\nwaiting to give battle to the oncoming horde, but Tarzan cried to them\nto scatter, keeping out of harm\'s way until they could gather in force\nafter dark.\n\n\"Do as I tell you,\" he urged, \"and I will lead you to victory over\nthese enemies of yours. Scatter through the forest, picking up as many\nstragglers as you can find, and at night, if you think that you have\nbeen followed, come by roundabout ways to the spot where we killed the\nelephants today. Then I will explain my plan, and you will find that\nit is good. You cannot hope to pit your puny strength and simple\nweapons against the numbers and the guns of the Arabs and the Manyuema.\"\n\nThey finally assented. \"When you scatter,\" explained Tarzan, in\nconclusion, \"your foes will have to scatter to follow you, and so it\nmay happen that if you are watchful you can drop many a Manyuema with\nyour arrows from behind some great trees.\"\n\nThey had barely time to hasten away farther into the forest before the\nfirst of the raiders had crossed the clearing and entered it in pursuit\nof them.\n\nTarzan ran a short distance along the ground before he took to the\ntrees. Then he raced quickly to the upper terrace, there doubling on\nhis tracks and making his way rapidly back toward the village. Here he\nfound that every Arab and Manyuema had joined in the pursuit, leaving\nthe village deserted except for the chained prisoners and a single\nguard.\n\nThe sentry stood at the open gate, looking in the direction of the\nforest, so that he did not see the agile giant that dropped to the\nground at the far end of the village street. With drawn bow the\nape-man crept stealthily toward his unsuspecting victim. The prisoners\nhad already discovered him, and with wide eyes filled with wonder and\nwith hope they watched their would-be rescuer. Now he halted not ten\npaces from the unconscious Manyuema. The shaft was drawn back its full\nlength at the height of the keen gray eye that sighted along its\npolished surface. There was a sudden twang as the brown fingers\nreleased their hold, and without a sound the raider sank forward upon\nhis face, a wooden shaft transfixing his heart and protruding a foot\nfrom his black chest.\n\nThen Tarzan turned his attention to the fifty women and youths chained\nneck to neck on the long slave chain. There was no releasing of the\nancient padlocks in the time that was left him, so the ape-man called\nto them to follow him as they were, and, snatching the gun and\ncartridge belt from the dead sentry, he led the now happy band out\nthrough the village gate and into the forest upon the far side of the\nclearing.\n\nIt was a slow and arduous march, for the slave chain was new to these\npeople, and there were many delays as one of their number would stumble\nand fall, dragging others down with her. Then, too, Tarzan had been\nforced to make a wide detour to avoid any possibility of meeting with\nreturning raiders. He was partially guided by occasional shots which\nindicated that the Arab horde was still in touch with the villagers;\nbut he knew that if they would but follow his advice there would be but\nfew casualties other than on the side of the marauders.\n\nToward dusk the firing ceased entirely, and Tarzan knew that the Arabs\nhad all returned to the village. He could scarce repress a smile of\ntriumph as he thought of their rage on discovering that their guard had\nbeen killed and their prisoners taken away. Tarzan had wished that he\nmight have taken some of the great store of ivory the village\ncontained, solely for the purpose of still further augmenting the wrath\nof his enemies; but he knew that that was not necessary for its\nsalvation, since he already had a plan mapped out which would\neffectually prevent the Arabs leaving the country with a single tusk.\nAnd it would have been cruel to have needlessly burdened these poor,\noverwrought women with the extra weight of the heavy ivory.\n\nIt was after midnight when Tarzan, with his slow-moving caravan,\napproached the spot where the elephants lay. Long before they reached\nit they had been guided by the huge fire the natives had built in the\ncenter of a hastily improvised BOMA, partially for warmth and partially\nto keep off chance lions.\n\nWhen they had come close to the encampment Tarzan called aloud to let\nthem know that friends were coming. It was a joyous reception the\nlittle party received when the blacks within the BOMA saw the long file\nof fettered friends and relatives enter the firelight. These had all\nbeen given up as lost forever, as had Tarzan as well, so that the happy\nblacks would have remained awake all night to feast on elephant meat\nand celebrate the return of their fellows, had not Tarzan insisted that\nthey take what sleep they could, against the work of the coming day.\n\nAt that, sleep was no easy matter, for the women who had lost their men\nor their children in the day\'s massacre and battle made night hideous\nwith their continued wailing and howling. Finally, however, Tarzan\nsucceeded in silencing them, on the plea that their noise would attract\nthe Arabs to their hiding-place, when all would be slaughtered.\n\nWhen dawn came Tarzan explained his plan of battle to the warriors, and\nwithout demur one and all agreed that it was the safest and surest way\nin which to rid themselves of their unwelcome visitors and be revenged\nfor the murder of their fellows.\n\nFirst the women and children, with a guard of some twenty old warriors\nand youths, were started southward, to be entirely out of the zone of\ndanger. They had instructions to erect temporary shelter and construct\na protecting BOMA of thorn bush; for the plan of campaign which Tarzan\nhad chosen was one which might stretch out over many days, or even\nweeks, during which time the warriors would not return to the new camp.\n\nTwo hours after daylight a thin circle of black warriors surrounded the\nvillage. At intervals one was perched high in the branches of a tree\nwhich could overlook the palisade. Presently a Manyuema within the\nvillage fell, pierced by a single arrow. There had been no sound of\nattack--none of the hideous war-cries or vainglorious waving of\nmenacing spears that ordinarily marks the attack of savages--just a\nsilent messenger of death from out of the silent forest.\n\nThe Arabs and their followers were thrown into a fine rage at this\nunprecedented occurrence. They ran for the gates, to wreak dire\nvengeance upon the foolhardy perpetrator of the outrage; but they\nsuddenly realized that they did not know which way to turn to find the\nfoe. As they stood debating with many angry shouts and much\ngesticulating, one of the Arabs sank silently to the ground in their\nvery midst--a thin arrow protruding from his heart.\n\nTarzan had placed the finest marksmen of the tribe in the surrounding\ntrees, with directions never to reveal themselves while the enemy was\nfaced in their direction. As a black released his messenger of death\nhe would slink behind the sheltering stem of the tree he had selected,\nnor would he again aim until a watchful eye told him that none was\nlooking toward his tree.\n\nThree times the Arabs started across the clearing in the direction from\nwhich they thought the arrows came, but each time another arrow would\ncome from behind to take its toll from among their number. Then they\nwould turn and charge in a new direction. Finally they set out upon a\ndetermined search of the forest, but the blacks melted before them, so\nthat they saw no sign of an enemy.\n\nBut above them lurked a grim figure in the dense foliage of the mighty\ntrees--it was Tarzan of the Apes, hovering over them as if he had been\nthe shadow of death. Presently a Manyuema forged ahead of his\ncompanions; there was none to see from what direction death came, and\nso it came quickly, and a moment later those behind stumbled over the\ndead body of their comrade--the inevitable arrow piercing the still\nheart.\n\nIt does not take a great deal of this manner of warfare to get upon the\nnerves of white men, and so it is little to be wondered at that the\nManyuema were soon panic-stricken. Did one forge ahead an arrow found\nhis heart; did one lag behind he never again was seen alive; did one\nstumble to one side, even for a bare moment from the sight of his\nfellows, he did not return--and always when they came upon the bodies\nof their dead they found those terrible arrows driven with the accuracy\nof superhuman power straight through the victim\'s heart. But worse\nthan all else was the hideous fact that not once during the morning had\nthey seen or heard the slightest sign of an enemy other than the\npitiless arrows.\n\nWhen finally they returned to the village it was no better. Every now\nand then, at varying intervals that were maddening in the terrible\nsuspense they caused, a man would plunge forward dead. The blacks\nbesought their masters to leave this terrible place, but the Arabs\nfeared to take up the march through the grim and hostile forest beset\nby this new and terrible enemy while laden with the great store of\nivory they had found within the village; but, worse yet, they hated to\nleave the ivory behind.\n\nFinally the entire expedition took refuge within the thatched\nhuts--here, at least, they would be free from the arrows. Tarzan, from\nthe tree above the village, had marked the hut into which the chief\nArabs had gone, and, balancing himself upon an overhanging limb, he\ndrove his heavy spear with all the force of his giant muscles through\nthe thatched roof. A howl of pain told him that it had found a mark.\nWith this parting salute to convince them that there was no safety for\nthem anywhere within the country, Tarzan returned to the forest,\ncollected his warriors, and withdrew a mile to the south to rest and\neat. He kept sentries in several trees that commanded a view of the\ntrail toward the village, but there was no pursuit.\n\nAn inspection of his force showed not a single casualty--not even a\nminor wound; while rough estimates of the enemies\' loss convinced the\nblacks that no fewer than twenty had fallen before their arrows. They\nwere wild with elation, and were for finishing the day in one glorious\nrush upon the village, during which they would slaughter the last of\ntheir foemen. They were even picturing the various tortures they would\ninflict, and gloating over the suffering of the Manyuema, for whom they\nentertained a peculiar hatred, when Tarzan put his foot down flatly\nupon the plan.\n\n\"You are crazy!\" he cried. \"I have shown you the only way to fight\nthese people. Already you have killed twenty of them without the loss\nof a single warrior, whereas, yesterday, following your own tactics,\nwhich you would now renew, you lost at least a dozen, and killed not a\nsingle Arab or Manyuema. You will fight just as I tell you to fight,\nor I shall leave you and go back to my own country.\"\n\nThey were frightened when he threatened this, and promised to obey him\nscrupulously if he would but promise not to desert them.\n\n\"Very well,\" he said. \"We shall return to the elephant BOMA for the\nnight. I have a plan to give the Arabs a little taste of what they may\nexpect if they remain in our country, but I shall need no help. Come!\nIf they suffer no more for the balance of the day they will feel\nreassured, and the relapse into fear will be even more nerve-racking\nthan as though we continued to frighten them all afternoon.\"\n\nSo they marched back to their camp of the previous night, and, lighting\ngreat fires, ate and recounted the adventures of the day until long\nafter dark. Tarzan slept until midnight, then he arose and crept into\nthe Cimmerian blackness of the forest. An hour later he came to the\nedge of the clearing before the village. There was a camp-fire burning\nwithin the palisade. The ape-man crept across the clearing until he\nstood before the barred gates. Through the interstices he saw a lone\nsentry sitting before the fire.\n\nQuietly Tarzan went to the tree at the end of the village street. He\nclimbed softly to his place, and fitted an arrow to his bow. For\nseveral minutes he tried to sight fairly upon the sentry, but the\nwaving branches and flickering firelight convinced him that the danger\nof a miss was too great--he must touch the heart full in the center to\nbring the quiet and sudden death his plan required.\n\nHe had brought, besides, his bow, arrows, and rope, the gun he had\ntaken the previous day from the other sentry he had killed. Caching\nall these in a convenient crotch of the tree, he dropped lightly to the\nground within the palisade, armed only with his long knife. The\nsentry\'s back was toward him. Like a cat Tarzan crept upon the dozing\nman. He was within two paces of him now--another instant and the knife\nwould slide silently into the fellow\'s heart.\n\nTarzan crouched for a spring, for that is ever the quickest and surest\nattack of the jungle beast--when the man, warned, by some subtle sense,\nsprang to his feet and faced the ape-man.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 17\n\nThe White Chief of the Waziri\n\n\nWhen the eyes of the black Manyuema savage fell upon the strange\napparition that confronted him with menacing knife they went wide in\nhorror. He forgot the gun within his hands; he even forgot to cry\nout--his one thought was to escape this fearsome-looking white savage,\nthis giant of a man upon whose massive rolling muscles and mighty chest\nthe flickering firelight played.\n\nBut before he could turn Tarzan was upon him, and then the sentry\nthought to scream for aid, but it was too late. A great hand was upon\nhis windpipe, and he was being borne to the earth. He battled\nfuriously but futilely--with the grim tenacity of a bulldog those awful\nfingers were clinging to his throat. Swiftly and surely life was being\nchoked from him. His eyes bulged, his tongue protruded, his face\nturned to a ghastly purplish hue--there was a convulsive tremor of the\nstiffening muscles, and the Manyuema sentry lay quite still.\n\nThe ape-man threw the body across one of his broad shoulders and,\ngathering up the fellow\'s gun, trotted silently up the sleeping village\nstreet toward the tree that gave him such easy ingress to the palisaded\nvillage. He bore the dead sentry into the midst of the leafy maze\nabove.\n\nFirst he stripped the body of cartridge belt and such ornaments as he\ncraved, wedging it into a convenient crotch while his nimble fingers\nran over it in search of the loot he could not plainly see in the dark.\nWhen he had finished he took the gun that had belonged to the man, and\nwalked far out upon a limb, from the end of which he could obtain a\nbetter view of the huts. Drawing a careful bead on the beehive\nstructure in which he knew the chief Arabs to be, he pulled the\ntrigger. Almost instantly there was an answering groan. Tarzan\nsmiled. He had made another lucky hit.\n\nFollowing the shot there was a moment\'s silence in the camp, and then\nManyuema and Arab came pouring from the huts like a swarm of angry\nhornets; but if the truth were known they were even more frightened\nthan they were angry. The strain of the preceding day had wrought upon\nthe fears of both black and white, and now this single shot in the\nnight conjured all manner of terrible conjectures in their terrified\nminds.\n\nWhen they discovered that their sentry had disappeared, their fears\nwere in no way allayed, and as though to bolster their courage by\nwarlike actions, they began to fire rapidly at the barred gates of the\nvillage, although no enemy was in sight. Tarzan took advantage of the\ndeafening roar of this fusillade to fire into the mob beneath him.\n\nNo one heard his shot above the din of rattling musketry in the street,\nbut some who were standing close saw one of their number crumple\nsuddenly to the earth. When they leaned over him he was dead. They\nwere panic-stricken, and it took all the brutal authority of the Arabs\nto keep the Manyuema from rushing helter-skelter into the\njungle--anywhere to escape from this terrible village.\n\nAfter a time they commenced to quiet down, and as no further mysterious\ndeaths occurred among them they took heart again. But it was a\nshort-lived respite, for just as they had concluded that they would not\nbe disturbed again Tarzan gave voice to a weird moan, and as the\nraiders looked up in the direction from which the sound seemed to come,\nthe ape-man, who stood swinging the dead body of the sentry gently to\nand fro, suddenly shot the corpse far out above their heads.\n\nWith howls of alarm the throng broke in all directions to escape this\nnew and terrible creature who seemed to be springing upon them. To\ntheir fear-distorted imaginations the body of the sentry, falling with\nwide-sprawled arms and legs, assumed the likeness of a great beast of\nprey. In their anxiety to escape, many of the blacks scaled the\npalisade, while others tore down the bars from the gates and rushed\nmadly across the clearing toward the jungle.\n\nFor a time no one turned back toward the thing that had frightened\nthem, but Tarzan knew that they would in a moment, and when they\ndiscovered that it was but the dead body of their sentry, while they\nwould doubtless be still further terrified, he had a rather definite\nidea as to what they would do, and so he faded silently away toward the\nsouth, taking the moonlit upper terrace back toward the camp of the\nWaziri.\n\nPresently one of the Arabs turned and saw that the thing that had\nleaped from the tree upon them lay still and quiet where it had fallen\nin the center of the village street. Cautiously he crept back toward\nit until he saw that it was but a man. A moment later he was beside\nthe figure, and in another had recognized it as the corpse of the\nManyuema who had stood on guard at the village gate.\n\nHis companions rapidly gathered around at his call, and after a\nmoment\'s excited conversation they did precisely what Tarzan had\nreasoned they would. Raising their guns to their shoulders, they\npoured volley after volley into the tree from which the corpse had been\nthrown--had Tarzan remained there he would have been riddled by a\nhundred bullets.\n\nWhen the Arabs and Manyuema discovered that the only marks of violence\nupon the body of their dead comrade were giant finger prints upon his\nswollen throat they were again thrown into deeper apprehension and\ndespair. That they were not even safe within a palisaded village at\nnight came as a distinct shock to them. That an enemy could enter into\nthe midst of their camp and kill their sentry with bare hands seemed\noutside the bounds of reason, and so the superstitious Manyuema\ncommenced to attribute their ill luck to supernatural causes; nor were\nthe Arabs able to offer any better explanation.\n\nWith at least fifty of their number flying through the black jungle,\nand without the slightest knowledge of when their uncanny foemen might\nresume the cold-blooded slaughter they had commenced, it was a\ndesperate band of cut-throats that waited sleeplessly for the dawn.\nOnly on the promise of the Arabs that they would leave the village at\ndaybreak, and hasten onward toward their own land, would the remaining\nManyuema consent to stay at the village a moment longer. Not even fear\nof their cruel masters was sufficient to overcome this new terror.\n\nAnd so it was that when Tarzan and his warriors returned to the attack\nthe next morning they found the raiders prepared to march out of the\nvillage. The Manyuema were laden with stolen ivory. As Tarzan saw it\nhe grinned, for he knew that they would not carry it far. Then he saw\nsomething which caused him anxiety--a number of the Manyuema were\nlighting torches in the remnant of the camp-fire. They were about to\nfire the village.\n\nTarzan was perched in a tall tree some hundred yards from the palisade.\nMaking a trumpet of his hands, he called loudly in the Arab tongue:\n\"Do not fire the huts, or we shall kill you all! Do not fire the huts,\nor we shall kill you all!\"\n\nA dozen times he repeated it. The Manyuema hesitated, then one of them\nflung his torch into the campfire. The others were about to do the\nsame when an Arab sprung upon them with a stick, beating them toward\nthe huts. Tarzan could see that he was commanding them to fire the\nlittle thatched dwellings. Then he stood erect upon the swaying branch\na hundred feet above the ground, and, raising one of the Arab guns to\nhis shoulder, took careful aim and fired. With the report the Arab who\nwas urging on his men to burn the village fell in his tracks, and the\nManyuema threw away their torches and fled from the village. The last\nTarzan saw of them they were racing toward the jungle, while their\nformer masters knelt upon the ground and fired at them.\n\nBut however angry the Arabs might have been at the insubordination of\ntheir slaves, they were at least convinced that it would be the better\npart of wisdom to forego the pleasure of firing the village that had\ngiven them two such nasty receptions. In their hearts, however, they\nswore to return again with such force as would enable them to sweep the\nentire country for miles around, until no vestige of human life\nremained.\n\nThey had looked in vain for the owner of the voice which had frightened\noff the men who had been detailed to put the torch to the huts, but not\neven the keenest eye among them had been able to locate him. They had\nseen the puff of smoke from the tree following the shot that brought\ndown the Arab, but, though a volley had immediately been loosed into\nits foliage, there had been no indication that it had been effective.\n\nTarzan was too intelligent to be caught in any such trap, and so the\nreport of his shot had scarcely died away before the ape-man was on the\nground and racing for another tree a hundred yards away. Here he again\nfound a suitable perch from which he could watch the preparations of\nthe raiders. It occurred to him that he might have considerable more\nfun with them, so again he called to them through his improvised\ntrumpet.\n\n\"Leave the ivory!\" he cried. \"Leave the ivory! Dead men have no use\nfor ivory!\"\n\nSome of the Manyuema started to lay down their loads, but this was\naltogether too much for the avaricious Arabs. With loud shouts and\ncurses they aimed their guns full upon the bearers, threatening instant\ndeath to any who might lay down his load. They could give up firing\nthe village, but the thought of abandoning this enormous fortune in\nivory was quite beyond their conception--better death than that.\n\nAnd so they marched out of the village of the Waziri, and on the\nshoulders of their slaves was the ivory ransom of a score of kings.\nToward the north they marched, back toward their savage settlement in\nthe wild and unknown country which lies back from the Kongo in the\nuttermost depths of The Great Forest, and on either side of them\ntraveled an invisible and relentless foe.\n\nUnder Tarzan\'s guidance the black Waziri warriors stationed themselves\nalong the trail on either side in the densest underbrush. They stood\nat far intervals, and, as the column passed, a single arrow or a heavy\nspear, well aimed, would pierce a Manyuema or an Arab. Then the Waziri\nwould melt into the distance and run ahead to take his stand farther\non. They did not strike unless success were sure and the danger of\ndetection almost nothing, and so the arrows and the spears were few and\nfar between, but so persistent and inevitable that the slow-moving\ncolumn of heavy-laden raiders was in a constant state of panic--panic\nat the uncertainty of who the next would be to fall, and when.\n\nIt was with the greatest difficulty that the Arabs prevented their men\na dozen times from throwing away their burdens and fleeing like\nfrightened rabbits up the trail toward the north. And so the day wore\non--a frightful nightmare of a day for the raiders--a day of weary but\nwell-repaid work for the Waziri. At night the Arabs constructed a rude\nBOMA in a little clearing by a river, and went into camp.\n\nAt intervals during the night a rifle would bark close above their\nheads, and one of the dozen sentries which they now had posted would\ntumble to the ground. Such a condition was insupportable, for they saw\nthat by means of these hideous tactics they would be completely wiped\nout, one by one, without inflicting a single death upon their enemy.\nBut yet, with the persistent avariciousness of the white man, the Arabs\nclung to their loot, and when morning came forced the demoralized\nManyuema to take up their burdens of death and stagger on into the\njungle.\n\nFor three days the withering column kept up its frightful march. Each\nhour was marked by its deadly arrow or cruel spear. The nights were\nmade hideous by the barking of the invisible gun that made sentry duty\nequivalent to a death sentence.\n\nOn the morning of the fourth day the Arabs were compelled to shoot two\nof their blacks before they could compel the balance to take up the\nhated ivory, and as they did so a voice rang out, clear and strong,\nfrom the jungle: \"Today you die, oh, Manyuema, unless you lay down the\nivory. Fall upon your cruel masters and kill them! You have guns, why\ndo you not use them? Kill the Arabs, and we will not harm you. We\nwill take you back to our village and feed you, and lead you out of our\ncountry in safety and in peace. Lay down the ivory, and fall upon your\nmasters--we will help you. Else you die!\"\n\nAs the voice died down the raiders stood as though turned to stone.\nThe Arabs eyed their Manyuema slaves; the slaves looked first at one of\ntheir fellows, and then at another--they were but waiting for some one\nto take the initiative. There were some thirty Arabs left, and about\none hundred and fifty blacks. All were armed--even those who were\nacting as porters had their rifles slung across their backs.\n\nThe Arabs drew together. The sheik ordered the Manyuema to take up the\nmarch, and as he spoke he cocked his rifle and raised it. But at the\nsame instant one of the blacks threw down his load, and, snatching his\nrifle from his back, fired point-blank at the group of Arabs. In an\ninstant the camp was a cursing, howling mass of demons, fighting with\nguns and knives and pistols. The Arabs stood together, and defended\ntheir lives valiantly, but with the rain of lead that poured upon them\nfrom their own slaves, and the shower of arrows and spears which now\nleaped from the surrounding jungle aimed solely at them, there was\nlittle question from the first what the outcome would be. In ten\nminutes from the time the first porter had thrown down his load the\nlast of the Arabs lay dead.\n\nWhen the firing had ceased Tarzan spoke again to the Manyuema:\n\n\"Take up our ivory, and return it to our village, from whence you stole\nit. We shall not harm you.\"\n\nFor a moment the Manyuema hesitated. They had no stomach to retrace\nthat difficult three days\' trail. They talked together in low\nwhispers, and one turned toward the jungle, calling aloud to the voice\nthat had spoken to them from out of the foliage.\n\n\"How do we know that when you have us in your village you will not kill\nus all?\" he asked.\n\n\"You do not know,\" replied Tarzan, \"other than that we have promised\nnot to harm you if you will return our ivory to us. But this you do\nknow, that it lies within our power to kill you all if you do not\nreturn as we direct, and are we not more likely to do so if you anger\nus than if you do as we bid?\"\n\n\"Who are you that speaks the tongue of our Arab masters?\" cried the\nManyuema spokesman. \"Let us see you, and then we shall give you our\nanswer.\"\n\nTarzan stepped out of the jungle a dozen paces from them.\n\n\"Look!\" he said. When they saw that he was white they were filled with\nawe, for never had they seen a white savage before, and at his great\nmuscles and giant frame they were struck with wonder and admiration.\n\n\"You may trust me,\" said Tarzan. \"So long as you do as I tell you, and\nharm none of my people, we shall do you no hurt. Will you take up our\nivory and return in peace to our village, or shall we follow along your\ntrail toward the north as we have followed for the past three days?\"\n\nThe recollection of the horrid days that had just passed was the thing\nthat finally decided the Manyuema, and so, after a short conference,\nthey took up their burdens and set off to retrace their steps toward\nthe village of the Waziri. At the end of the third day they marched\ninto the village gate, and were greeted by the survivors of the recent\nmassacre, to whom Tarzan had sent a messenger in their temporary camp\nto the south on the day that the raiders had quitted the village,\ntelling them that they might return in safety.\n\nIt took all the mastery and persuasion that Tarzan possessed to prevent\nthe Waziri falling on the Manyuema tooth and nail, and tearing them to\npieces, but when he had explained that he had given his word that they\nwould not be molested if they carried the ivory back to the spot from\nwhich they had stolen it, and had further impressed upon his people\nthat they owed their entire victory to him, they finally acceded to his\ndemands, and allowed the cannibals to rest in peace within their\npalisade.\n\nThat night the village warriors held a big palaver to celebrate their\nvictories, and to choose a new chief. Since old Waziri\'s death Tarzan\nhad been directing the warriors in battle, and the temporary command\nhad been tacitly conceded to him. There had been no time to choose a\nnew chief from among their own number, and, in fact, so remarkably\nsuccessful had they been under the ape-man\'s generalship that they had\nhad no wish to delegate the supreme authority to another for fear that\nwhat they already had gained might be lost. They had so recently seen\nthe results of running counter to this savage white man\'s advice in the\ndisastrous charge ordered by Waziri, in which he himself had died, that\nit had not been difficult for them to accept Tarzan\'s authority as\nfinal.\n\nThe principal warriors sat in a circle about a small fire to discuss\nthe relative merits of whomever might be suggested as old Waziri\'s\nsuccessor. It was Busuli who spoke first:\n\n\"Since Waziri is dead, leaving no son, there is but one among us whom\nwe know from experience is fitted to make us a good king. There is\nonly one who has proved that he can successfully lead us against the\nguns of the white man, and bring us easy victory without the loss of a\nsingle life. There is only one, and that is the white man who has led\nus for the past few days,\" and Busuli sprang to his feet, and with\nuplifted spear and half-bent, crouching body commenced to dance slowly\nabout Tarzan, chanting in time to his steps: \"Waziri, king of the\nWaziri; Waziri, killer of Arabs; Waziri, king of the Waziri.\"\n\nOne by one the other warriors signified their acceptance of Tarzan as\ntheir king by joining in the solemn dance. The women came and squatted\nabout the rim of the circle, beating upon tom-toms, clapping their\nhands in time to the steps of the dancers, and joining in the chant of\nthe warriors. In the center of the circle sat Tarzan of the\nApes--Waziri, king of the Waziri, for, like his predecessor, he was to\ntake the name of his tribe as his own.\n\nFaster and faster grew the pace of the dancers, louder and louder their\nwild and savage shouts. The women rose and fell in unison, shrieking\nnow at the tops of their voices. The spears were brandishing fiercely,\nand as the dancers stooped down and beat their shields upon the\nhard-tramped earth of the village street the whole sight was as\nterribly primeval and savage as though it were being staged in the dim\ndawn of humanity, countless ages in the past.\n\nAs the excitement waxed the ape-man sprang to his feet and joined in\nthe wild ceremony. In the center of the circle of glittering black\nbodies he leaped and roared and shook his heavy spear in the same mad\nabandon that enthralled his fellow savages. The last remnant of his\ncivilization was forgotten--he was a primitive man to the fullest now;\nreveling in the freedom of the fierce, wild life he loved, gloating in\nhis kingship among these wild blacks.\n\nAh, if Olga de Coude had but seen him then--could she have recognized\nthe well-dressed, quiet young man whose well-bred face and\nirreproachable manners had so captivated her but a few short months\nago? And Jane Porter! Would she have still loved this savage warrior\nchieftain, dancing naked among his naked savage subjects? And D\'Arnot!\nCould D\'Arnot have believed that this was the same man he had\nintroduced into half a dozen of the most select clubs of Paris? What\nwould his fellow peers in the House of Lords have said had one pointed\nto this dancing giant, with his barbaric headdress and his metal\nornaments, and said: \"There, my lords, is John Clayton, Lord Greystoke.\"\n\nAnd so Tarzan of the Apes came into a real kingship among men--slowly\nbut surely was he following the evolution of his ancestors, for had he\nnot started at the very bottom?\n\n\n\n\nChapter 18\n\nThe Lottery of Death\n\n\nJane Porter had been the first of those in the lifeboat to awaken the\nmorning after the wreck of the LADY ALICE. The other members of the\nparty were asleep upon the thwarts or huddled in cramped positions in\nthe bottom of the boat.\n\nWhen the girl realized that they had become separated from the other\nboats she was filled with alarm. The sense of utter loneliness and\nhelplessness which the vast expanse of deserted ocean aroused in her\nwas so depressing that, from the first, contemplation of the future\nheld not the slightest ray of promise for her. She was confident that\nthey were lost--lost beyond possibility of succor.\n\nPresently Clayton awoke. It was several minutes before he could gather\nhis senses sufficiently to realize where he was, or recall the disaster\nof the previous night. Finally his bewildered eyes fell upon the girl.\n\n\"Jane!\" he cried. \"Thank God that we are together!\"\n\n\"Look,\" said the girl dully, indicating the horizon with an apathetic\ngesture. \"We are all alone.\"\n\nClayton scanned the water in every direction.\n\n\"Where can they be?\" he cried. \"They cannot have gone down, for there\nhas been no sea, and they were afloat after the yacht sank--I saw them\nall.\"\n\nHe awoke the other members of the party, and explained their plight.\n\n\"It is just as well that the boats are scattered, sir,\" said one of the\nsailors. \"They are all provisioned, so that they do not need each\nother on that score, and should a storm blow up they could be of no\nservice to one another even if they were together, but scattered about\nthe ocean there is a much better chance that one at least will be\npicked up, and then a search will be at once started for the others.\nWere we together there would be but one chance of rescue, where now\nthere may be four.\"\n\nThey saw the wisdom of his philosophy, and were cheered by it, but\ntheir joy was short-lived, for when it was decided that they should row\nsteadily toward the east and the continent, it was discovered that the\nsailors who had been at the only two oars with which the boat had been\nprovided had fallen asleep at their work, and allowed both to slip into\nthe sea, nor were they in sight anywhere upon the water.\n\nDuring the angry words and recriminations which followed the sailors\nnearly came to blows, but Clayton succeeded in quieting them; though a\nmoment later Monsieur Thuran almost precipitated another row by making\na nasty remark about the stupidity of all Englishmen, and especially\nEnglish sailors.\n\n\"Come, come, mates,\" spoke up one of the men, Tompkins, who had taken\nno part in the altercation, \"shootin\' off our bloomin\' mugs won\'t get\nus nothin\'. As Spider \'ere said afore, we\'ll all bloody well be picked\nup, anyway, sez \'e, so wot\'s the use o\' squabblin\'? Let\'s eat, sez I.\"\n\n\"That\'s not a bad idea,\" said Monsieur Thuran, and then, turning to the\nthird sailor, Wilson, he said: \"Pass one of those tins aft, my good\nman.\"\n\n\"Fetch it yerself,\" retorted Wilson sullenly. \"I ain\'t a-takin\' no\norders from no--furriner--you ain\'t captain o\' this ship yet.\"\n\nThe result was that Clayton himself had to get the tin, and then\nanother angry altercation ensued when one of the sailors accused\nClayton and Monsieur Thuran of conspiring to control the provisions so\nthat they could have the lion\'s share.\n\n\"Some one should take command of this boat,\" spoke up Jane Porter,\nthoroughly disgusted with the disgraceful wrangling that had marked the\nvery opening of a forced companionship that might last for many days.\n\"It is terrible enough to be alone in a frail boat on the Atlantic,\nwithout having the added misery and danger of constant bickering and\nbrawling among the members of our party. You men should elect a\nleader, and then abide by his decisions in all matters. There is\ngreater need for strict discipline here than there is upon a\nwell-ordered ship.\"\n\nShe had hoped before she voiced her sentiments that it would not be\nnecessary for her to enter into the transaction at all, for she\nbelieved that Clayton was amply able to cope with every emergency, but\nshe had to admit that so far at least he had shown no greater promise\nof successfully handling the situation than any of the others, though\nhe had at least refrained from adding in any way to the unpleasantness,\neven going so far as to give up the tin to the sailors when they\nobjected to its being opened by him.\n\nThe girl\'s words temporarily quieted the men, and finally it was\ndecided that the two kegs of water and the four tins of food should be\ndivided into two parts, one-half going forward to the three sailors to\ndo with as they saw best, and the balance aft to the three passengers.\n\nThus was the little company divided into two camps, and when the\nprovisions had been apportioned each immediately set to work to open\nand distribute food and water. The sailors were the first to get one\nof the tins of \"food\" open, and their curses of rage and disappointment\ncaused Clayton to ask what the trouble might be.\n\n\"Trouble!\" shrieked Spider. \"Trouble! It\'s worse than trouble--it\'s\ndeath! This---tin is full of coal oil!\"\n\nHastily now Clayton and Monsieur Thuran tore open one of theirs, only\nto learn the hideous truth that it also contained, not food, but coal\noil. One after another the four tins on board were opened. And as the\ncontents of each became known howls of anger announced the grim\ntruth--there was not an ounce of food upon the boat.\n\n\"Well, thank Gawd it wasn\'t the water,\" cried Thompkins. \"It\'s easier\nto get along without food than it is without water. We can eat our\nshoes if worse comes to worst, but we couldn\'t drink \'em.\"\n\nAs he spoke Wilson had been boring a hole in one of the water kegs, and\nas Spider held a tin cup he tilted the keg to pour a draft of the\nprecious fluid. A thin stream of blackish, dry particles filtered\nslowly through the tiny aperture into the bottom of the cup. With a\ngroan Wilson dropped the keg, and sat staring at the dry stuff in the\ncup, speechless with horror.\n\n\"The kegs are filled with gunpowder,\" said Spider, in a low tone,\nturning to those aft. And so it proved when the last had been opened.\n\n\"Coal oil and gunpowder!\" cried Monsieur Thuran. \"SAPRISTI! What a\ndiet for shipwrecked mariners!\"\n\nWith the full knowledge that there was neither food nor water on board,\nthe pangs of hunger and thirst became immediately aggravated, and so on\nthe first day of their tragic adventure real suffering commenced in\ngrim earnest, and the full horrors of shipwreck were upon them.\n\nAs the days passed conditions became horrible. Aching eyes scanned the\nhorizon day and night until the weak and weary watchers would sink\nexhausted to the bottom of the boat, and there wrest in dream-disturbed\nslumber a moment\'s respite from the horrors of the waking reality.\n\nThe sailors, goaded by the remorseless pangs of hunger, had eaten their\nleather belts, their shoes, the sweatbands from their caps, although\nboth Clayton and Monsieur Thuran had done their best to convince them\nthat these would only add to the suffering they were enduring.\n\nWeak and hopeless, the entire party lay beneath the pitiless tropic\nsun, with parched lips and swollen tongues, waiting for the death they\nwere beginning to crave. The intense suffering of the first few days\nhad become deadened for the three passengers who had eaten nothing, but\nthe agony of the sailors was pitiful, as their weak and impoverished\nstomachs attempted to cope with the bits of leather with which they had\nfilled them. Tompkins was the first to succumb. Just a week from the\nday the LADY ALICE went down the sailor died horribly in frightful\nconvulsions.\n\nFor hours his contorted and hideous features lay grinning back at those\nin the stern of the little boat, until Jane Porter could endure the\nsight no longer. \"Can you not drop his body overboard, William?\" she\nasked.\n\nClayton rose and staggered toward the corpse. The two remaining\nsailors eyed him with a strange, baleful light in their sunken orbs.\nFutilely the Englishman tried to lift the corpse over the side of the\nboat, but his strength was not equal to the task.\n\n\"Lend me a hand here, please,\" he said to Wilson, who lay nearest him.\n\n\"Wot do you want to throw \'im over for?\" questioned the sailor, in a\nquerulous voice.\n\n\"We\'ve got to before we\'re too weak to do it,\" replied Clayton. \"He\'d\nbe awful by tomorrow, after a day under that broiling sun.\"\n\n\"Better leave well enough alone,\" grumbled Wilson. \"We may need him\nbefore tomorrow.\"\n\nSlowly the meaning of the man\'s words percolated into Clayton\'s\nunderstanding. At last he realized the fellow\'s reason for objecting\nto the disposal of the dead man.\n\n\"God!\" whispered Clayton, in a horrified tone. \"You don\'t mean--\"\n\n\"W\'y not?\" growled Wilson. \"Ain\'t we gotta live? He\'s dead,\" he\nadded, jerking his thumb in the direction of the corpse. \"He won\'t\ncare.\"\n\n\"Come here, Thuran,\" said Clayton, turning toward the Russian. \"We\'ll\nhave something worse than death aboard us if we don\'t get rid of this\nbody before dark.\"\n\nWilson staggered up menacingly to prevent the contemplated act, but\nwhen his comrade, Spider, took sides with Clayton and Monsieur Thuran\nhe gave up, and sat eying the corpse hungrily as the three men, by\ncombining their efforts, succeeded in rolling it overboard.\n\nAll the balance of the day Wilson sat glaring at Clayton, in his eyes\nthe gleam of insanity. Toward evening, as the sun was sinking into the\nsea, he commenced to chuckle and mumble to himself, but his eyes never\nleft Clayton.\n\nAfter it became quite dark Clayton could still feel those terrible eyes\nupon him. He dared not sleep, and yet so exhausted was he that it was\na constant fight to retain consciousness. After what seemed an\neternity of suffering his head dropped upon a thwart, and he slept.\nHow long he was unconscious he did not know--he was awakened by a\nshuffling noise quite close to him. The moon had risen, and as he\nopened his startled eyes he saw Wilson creeping stealthily toward him,\nhis mouth open and his swollen tongue hanging out.\n\nThe slight noise had awakened Jane Porter at the same time, and as she\nsaw the hideous tableau she gave a shrill cry of alarm, and at the same\ninstant the sailor lurched forward and fell upon Clayton. Like a wild\nbeast his teeth sought the throat of his intended prey, but Clayton,\nweak though he was, still found sufficient strength to hold the\nmaniac\'s mouth from him.\n\nAt Jane Porter\'s scream Monsieur Thuran and Spider awoke. On seeing\nthe cause of her alarm, both men crawled to Clayton\'s rescue, and\nbetween the three of them were able to subdue Wilson and hurl him to\nthe bottom of the boat. For a few minutes he lay there chattering and\nlaughing, and then, with an awful scream, and before any of his\ncompanions could prevent, he staggered to his feet and leaped overboard.\n\nThe reaction from the terrific strain of excitement left the weak\nsurvivors trembling and prostrated. Spider broke down and wept; Jane\nPorter prayed; Clayton swore softly to himself; Monsieur Thuran sat\nwith his head in his hands, thinking. The result of his cogitation\ndeveloped the following morning in a proposition he made to Spider and\nClayton.\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said Monsieur Thuran, \"you see the fate that awaits us all\nunless we are picked up within a day or two. That there is little hope\nof that is evidenced by the fact that during all the days we have\ndrifted we have seen no sail, nor the faintest smudge of smoke upon the\nhorizon.\n\n\"There might be a chance if we had food, but without food there is\nnone. There remains for us, then, but one of two alternatives, and we\nmust choose at once. Either we must all die together within a few\ndays, or one must be sacrificed that the others may live. Do you quite\nclearly grasp my meaning?\"\n\nJane Porter, who had overheard, was horrified. If the proposition had\ncome from the poor, ignorant sailor, she might possibly have not been\nso surprised; but that it should come from one who posed as a man of\nculture and refinement, from a gentleman, she could scarcely credit.\n\n\"It is better that we die together, then,\" said Clayton.\n\n\"That is for the majority to decide,\" replied Monsieur Thuran. \"As\nonly one of us three will be the object of sacrifice, we shall decide.\nMiss Porter is not interested, since she will be in no danger.\"\n\n\"How shall we know who is to be first?\" asked Spider.\n\n\"It may be fairly fixed by lot,\" replied Monsieur Thuran. \"I have a\nnumber of franc pieces in my pocket. We can choose a certain date from\namong them--the one to draw this date first from beneath a piece of\ncloth will be the first.\"\n\n\"I shall have nothing to do with any such diabolical plan,\" muttered\nClayton; \"even yet land may be sighted or a ship appear--in time.\"\n\n\"You will do as the majority decide, or you will be \'the first\' without\nthe formality of drawing lots,\" said Monsieur Thuran threateningly.\n\"Come, let us vote on the plan; I for one am in favor of it. How about\nyou, Spider?\" \"And I,\" replied the sailor.\n\n\"It is the will of the majority,\" announced Monsieur Thuran, \"and now\nlet us lose no time in drawing lots. It is as fair for one as for\nanother. That three may live, one of us must die perhaps a few hours\nsooner than otherwise.\"\n\nThen he began his preparation for the lottery of death, while Jane\nPorter sat wide-eyed and horrified at thought of the thing that she was\nabout to witness. Monsieur Thuran spread his coat upon the bottom of\nthe boat, and then from a handful of money he selected six franc\npieces. The other two men bent close above him as he inspected them.\nFinally he handed them all to Clayton.\n\n\"Look at them carefully,\" he said. \"The oldest date is\neighteen-seventy-five, and there is only one of that year.\"\n\nClayton and the sailor inspected each coin. To them there seemed not\nthe slightest difference that could be detected other than the dates.\nThey were quite satisfied. Had they known that Monsieur Thuran\'s past\nexperience as a card sharp had trained his sense of touch to so fine a\npoint that he could almost differentiate between cards by the mere feel\nof them, they would scarcely have felt that the plan was so entirely\nfair. The 1875 piece was a hair thinner than the other coins, but\nneither Clayton nor Spider could have detected it without the aid of a\nmicrometer.\n\n\"In what order shall we draw?\" asked Monsieur Thuran, knowing from past\nexperience that the majority of men always prefer last chance in a\nlottery where the single prize is some distasteful thing--there is\nalways the chance and the hope that another will draw it first.\nMonsieur Thuran, for reasons of his own, preferred to draw first if the\ndrawing should happen to require a second adventure beneath the coat.\n\nAnd so when Spider elected to draw last he graciously offered to take\nthe first chance himself. His hand was under the coat for but a\nmoment, yet those quick, deft fingers had felt of each coin, and found\nand discarded the fatal piece. When he brought forth his hand it\ncontained an 1888 franc piece. Then Clayton drew. Jane Porter leaned\nforward with a tense and horrified expression on her face as the hand\nof the man she was to marry groped about beneath the coat. Presently he\nwithdrew it, a franc piece lying in the palm. For an instant he dared\nnot look, but Monsieur Thuran, who had leaned nearer to see the date,\nexclaimed that he was safe.\n\nJane Porter sank weak and trembling against the side of the boat. She\nfelt sick and dizzy. And now, if Spider should not draw the 1875 piece\nshe must endure the whole horrid thing again.\n\nThe sailor already had his hand beneath the coat. Great beads of sweat\nwere standing upon his brow. He trembled as though with a fit of ague.\nAloud he cursed himself for having taken the last draw, for now his\nchances for escape were but three to one, whereas Monsieur Thuran\'s had\nbeen five to one, and Clayton\'s four to one.\n\nThe Russian was very patient, and did not hurry the man, for he knew\nthat he himself was quite safe whether the 1875 piece came out this\ntime or not. When the sailor withdrew his hand and looked at the piece\nof money within, he dropped fainting to the bottom of the boat. Both\nClayton and Monsieur Thuran hastened weakly to examine the coin, which\nhad rolled from the man\'s hand and lay beside him. It was not dated\n1875. The reaction from the state of fear he had been in had overcome\nSpider quite as effectually as though he had drawn the fated piece.\n\nBut now the whole proceeding must be gone through again. Once more the\nRussian drew forth a harmless coin. Jane Porter closed her eyes as\nClayton reached beneath the coat. Spider bent, wide-eyed, toward the\nhand that was to decide his fate, for whatever luck was Clayton\'s on\nthis last draw, the opposite would be Spider\'s. Then William Cecil\nClayton, Lord Greystoke, removed his hand from beneath the coat, and\nwith a coin tight pressed within his palm where none might see it, he\nlooked at Jane Porter. He did not dare open his hand.\n\n\"Quick!\" hissed Spider. \"My Gawd, let\'s see it.\"\n\nClayton opened his fingers. Spider was the first to see the date, and\nere any knew what his intention was he raised himself to his feet, and\nlunged over the side of the boat, to disappear forever into the green\ndepths beneath--the coin had not been the 1875 piece.\n\nThe strain had exhausted those who remained to such an extent that they\nlay half unconscious for the balance of the day, nor was the subject\nreferred to again for several days. Horrible days of increasing\nweakness and hopelessness. At length Monsieur Thuran crawled to where\nClayton lay.\n\n\"We must draw once more before we are too weak even to eat,\" he\nwhispered.\n\nClayton was in such a state that he was scarcely master of his own\nwill. Jane Porter had not spoken for three days. He knew that she was\ndying. Horrible as the thought was, he hoped that the sacrifice of\neither Thuran or himself might be the means of giving her renewed\nstrength, and so he immediately agreed to the Russian\'s proposal.\n\nThey drew under the same plan as before, but there could be but one\nresult--Clayton drew the 1875 piece.\n\n\"When shall it be?\" he asked Thuran.\n\nThe Russian had already drawn a pocketknife from his trousers, and was\nweakly attempting to open it.\n\n\"Now,\" he muttered, and his greedy eyes gloated upon the Englishman.\n\n\"Can\'t you wait until dark?\" asked Clayton. \"Miss Porter must not see\nthis thing done. We were to have been married, you know.\"\n\nA look of disappointment came over Monsieur Thuran\'s face.\n\n\"Very well,\" he replied hesitatingly. \"It will not be long until\nnight. I have waited for many days--I can wait a few hours longer.\"\n\n\"Thank you, my friend,\" murmured Clayton. \"Now I shall go to her side\nand remain with her until it is time. I would like to have an hour or\ntwo with her before I die.\"\n\nWhen Clayton reached the girl\'s side she was unconscious--he knew that\nshe was dying, and he was glad that she should not have to see or know\nthe awful tragedy that was shortly to be enacted. He took her hand and\nraised it to his cracked and swollen lips. For a long time he lay\ncaressing the emaciated, clawlike thing that had once been the\nbeautiful, shapely white hand of the young Baltimore belle.\n\nIt was quite dark before he knew it, but he was recalled to himself by\na voice out of the night. It was the Russian calling him to his doom.\n\n\"I am coming, Monsieur Thuran,\" he hastened to reply.\n\nThrice he attempted to turn himself upon his hands and knees, that he\nmight crawl back to his death, but in the few hours that he had lain\nthere he had become too weak to return to Thuran\'s side.\n\n\"You will have to come to me, monsieur,\" he called weakly. \"I have not\nsufficient strength to gain my hands and knees.\"\n\n\"SAPRISTI!\" muttered Monsieur Thuran. \"You are attempting to cheat me\nout of my winnings.\"\n\nClayton heard the man shuffling about in the bottom of the boat.\nFinally there was a despairing groan. \"I cannot crawl,\" he heard the\nRussian wail. \"It is too late. You have tricked me, you dirty English\ndog.\"\n\n\"I have not tricked you, monsieur,\" replied Clayton. \"I have done my\nbest to rise, but I shall try again, and if you will try possibly each\nof us can crawl halfway, and then you shall have your \'winnings.\'\"\n\nAgain Clayton exerted his remaining strength to the utmost, and he\nheard Thuran apparently doing the same. Nearly an hour later the\nEnglishman succeeded in raising himself to his hands and knees, but at\nthe first forward movement he pitched upon his face.\n\nA moment later he heard an exclamation of relief from Monsieur Thuran.\n\n\"I am coming,\" whispered the Russian.\n\nAgain Clayton essayed to stagger on to meet his fate, but once more he\npitched headlong to the boat\'s bottom, nor, try as he would, could he\nagain rise. His last effort caused him to roll over on his back, and\nthere he lay looking up at the stars, while behind him, coming ever\nnearer and nearer, he could hear the laborious shuffling, and the\nstertorous breathing of the Russian.\n\nIt seemed that he must have lain thus an hour waiting for the thing to\ncrawl out of the dark and end his misery. It was quite close now, but\nthere were longer and longer pauses between its efforts to advance, and\neach forward movement seemed to the waiting Englishman to be almost\nimperceptible.\n\nFinally he knew that Thuran was quite close beside him. He heard a\ncackling laugh, something touched his face, and he lost consciousness.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 19\n\nThe City of Gold\n\n\nThe very night that Tarzan of the Apes became chief of the Waziri the\nwoman he loved lay dying in a tiny boat two hundred miles west of him\nupon the Atlantic. As he danced among his naked fellow savages, the\nfirelight gleaming against his great, rolling muscles, the\npersonification of physical perfection and strength, the woman who\nloved him lay thin and emaciated in the last coma that precedes death\nby thirst and starvation.\n\nThe week following the induction of Tarzan into the kingship of the\nWaziri was occupied in escorting the Manyuema of the Arab raiders to\nthe northern boundary of Waziri in accordance with the promise which\nTarzan had made them. Before he left them he exacted a pledge from\nthem that they would not lead any expeditions against the Waziri in the\nfuture, nor was it a difficult promise to obtain. They had had\nsufficient experience with the fighting tactics of the new Waziri chief\nnot to have the slightest desire to accompany another predatory force\nwithin the boundaries of his domain.\n\nAlmost immediately upon his return to the village Tarzan commenced\nmaking preparations for leading an expedition in search of the ruined\ncity of gold which old Waziri had described to him. He selected fifty\nof the sturdiest warriors of his tribe, choosing only men who seemed\nanxious to accompany him on the arduous march, and share the dangers of\na new and hostile country.\n\nThe fabulous wealth of the fabled city had been almost constantly in\nhis mind since Waziri had recounted the strange adventures of the\nformer expedition which had stumbled upon the vast ruins by chance.\nThe lure of adventure may have been quite as powerful a factor in\nurging Tarzan of the Apes to undertake the journey as the lure of gold,\nbut the lure of gold was there, too, for he had learned among civilized\nmen something of the miracles that may be wrought by the possessor of\nthe magic yellow metal. What he would do with a golden fortune in the\nheart of savage Africa it had not occurred to him to consider--it would\nbe enough to possess the power to work wonders, even though he never\nhad an opportunity to employ it.\n\nSo one glorious tropical morning Waziri, chief of the Waziri, set out\nat the head of fifty clean-limbed ebon warriors in quest of adventure\nand of riches. They followed the course which old Waziri had described\nto Tarzan. For days they marched--up one river, across a low divide;\ndown another river; up a third, until at the end of the twenty-fifth\nday they camped upon a mountainside, from the summit of which they\nhoped to catch their first view of the marvelous city of treasure.\n\nEarly the next morning they were climbing the almost perpendicular\ncrags which formed the last, but greatest, natural barrier between them\nand their destination. It was nearly noon before Tarzan, who headed\nthe thin line of climbing warriors, scrambled over the top of the last\ncliff and stood upon the little flat table-land of the mountaintop.\n\nOn either hand towered mighty peaks thousands of feet higher than the\npass through which they were entering the forbidden valley. Behind him\nstretched the wooded valley across which they had marched for many\ndays, and at the opposite side the low range which marked the boundary\nof their own country.\n\nBut before him was the view that centered his attention. Here lay a\ndesolate valley--a shallow, narrow valley dotted with stunted trees and\ncovered with many great bowlders. And on the far side of the valley\nlay what appeared to be a mighty city, its great walls, its lofty\nspires, its turrets, minarets, and domes showing red and yellow in the\nsunlight. Tarzan was yet too far away to note the marks of ruin--to\nhim it appeared a wonderful city of magnificent beauty, and in\nimagination he peopled its broad avenues and its huge temples with a\nthrong of happy, active people.\n\nFor an hour the little expedition rested upon the mountain-top, and\nthen Tarzan led them down into the valley below. There was no trail,\nbut the way was less arduous than the ascent of the opposite face of\nthe mountain had been. Once in the valley their progress was rapid, so\nthat it was still light when they halted before the towering walls of\nthe ancient city.\n\nThe outer wall was fifty feet in height where it had not fallen into\nruin, but nowhere as far as they could see had more than ten or twenty\nfeet of the upper courses fallen away. It was still a formidable\ndefense. On several occasions Tarzan had thought that he discerned\nthings moving behind the ruined portions of the wall near to them, as\nthough creatures were watching them from behind the bulwarks of the\nancient pile. And often he felt the sensation of unseen eyes upon him,\nbut not once could he be sure that it was more than imagination.\n\nThat night they camped outside the city. Once, at midnight, they were\nawakened by a shrill scream from beyond the great wall. It was very\nhigh at first, descending gradually until it ended in a series of\ndismal moans. It had a strange effect upon the blacks, almost\nparalyzing them with terror while it lasted, and it was an hour before\nthe camp settled down to sleep once more. In the morning the effects\nof it were still visible in the fearful, sidelong glances that the\nWaziri continually cast at the massive and forbidding structure which\nloomed above them.\n\nIt required considerable encouragement and urging on Tarzan\'s part to\nprevent the blacks from abandoning the venture on the spot and\nhastening back across the valley toward the cliffs they had scaled the\nday before. But at length, by dint of commands, and threats that he\nwould enter the city alone, they agreed to accompany him.\n\nFor fifteen minutes they marched along the face of the wall before they\ndiscovered a means of ingress. Then they came to a narrow cleft about\ntwenty inches wide. Within, a flight of concrete steps, worn hollow by\ncenturies of use, rose before them, to disappear at a sharp turning of\nthe passage a few yards ahead.\n\nInto this narrow alley Tarzan made his way, turning his giant shoulders\nsideways that they might enter at all. Behind him trailed his black\nwarriors. At the turn in the cleft the stairs ended, and the path was\nlevel; but it wound and twisted in a serpentine fashion, until suddenly\nat a sharp angle it debouched upon a narrow court, across which loomed\nan inner wall equally as high as the outer. This inner wall was set\nwith little round towers alternating along its entire summit with\npointed monoliths. In places these had fallen, and the wall was\nruined, but it was in a much better state of preservation than the\nouter wall.\n\nAnother narrow passage led through this wall, and at its end Tarzan and\nhis warriors found themselves in a broad avenue, on the opposite side\nof which crumbling edifices of hewn granite loomed dark and forbidding.\nUpon the crumbling debris along the face of the buildings trees had\ngrown, and vines wound in and out of the hollow, staring windows; but\nthe building directly opposite them seemed less overgrown than the\nothers, and in a much better state of preservation. It was a massive\npile, surmounted by an enormous dome. At either side of its great\nentrance stood rows of tall pillars, each capped by a huge, grotesque\nbird carved from the solid rock of the monoliths.\n\nAs the ape-man and his companions stood gazing in varying degrees of\nwonderment at this ancient city in the midst of savage Africa, several\nof them became aware of movement within the structure at which they\nwere looking. Dim, shadowy shapes appeared to be moving about in the\nsemi-darkness of the interior. There was nothing tangible that the eye\ncould grasp--only an uncanny suggestion of life where it seemed that\nthere should be no life, for living things seemed out of place in this\nweird, dead city of the long-dead past.\n\nTarzan recalled something that he had read in the library at Paris of a\nlost race of white men that native legend described as living in the\nheart of Africa. He wondered if he were not looking upon the ruins of\nthe civilization that this strange people had wrought amid the savage\nsurroundings of their strange and savage home. Could it be possible\nthat even now a remnant of that lost race inhabited the ruined grandeur\nthat had once been their progenitor? Again he became conscious of a\nstealthy movement within the great temple before him. \"Come!\" he said,\nto his Waziri. \"Let us have a look at what lies behind those ruined\nwalls.\"\n\nHis men were loath to follow him, but when they saw that he was bravely\nentering the frowning portal they trailed a few paces behind in a\nhuddled group that seemed the personification of nervous terror. A\nsingle shriek such as they had heard the night before would have been\nsufficient to have sent them all racing madly for the narrow cleft that\nled through the great walls to the outer world.\n\nAs Tarzan entered the building he was distinctly aware of many eyes\nupon him. There was a rustling in the shadows of a near-by corridor,\nand he could have sworn that he saw a human hand withdrawn from an\nembrasure that opened above him into the domelike rotunda in which he\nfound himself.\n\nThe floor of the chamber was of concrete, the walls of smooth granite,\nupon which strange figures of men and beasts were carved. In places\ntablets of yellow metal had been set in the solid masonry of the walls.\n\nWhen he approached closer to one of these tablets he saw that it was of\ngold, and bore many hieroglyphics. Beyond this first chamber there\nwere others, and back of them the building branched out into enormous\nwings. Tarzan passed through several of these chambers, finding many\nevidences of the fabulous wealth of the original builders. In one room\nwere seven pillars of solid gold, and in another the floor itself was\nof the precious metal. And all the while that he explored, his blacks\nhuddled close together at his back, and strange shapes hovered upon\neither hand and before them and behind, yet never close enough that any\nmight say that they were not alone.\n\nThe strain, however, was telling upon the nerves of the Waziri. They\nbegged Tarzan to return to the sunlight. They said that no good could\ncome of such an expedition, for the ruins were haunted by the spirits\nof the dead who had once inhabited them.\n\n\"They are watching us, O king,\" whispered Busuli. \"They are waiting\nuntil they have led us into the innermost recesses of their stronghold,\nand then they will fall upon us and tear us to pieces with their teeth.\nThat is the way with spirits. My mother\'s uncle, who is a great witch\ndoctor, has told me all about it many times.\"\n\nTarzan laughed. \"Run back into the sunlight, my children,\" he said.\n\"I will join you when I have searched this old ruin from top to bottom,\nand found the gold, or found that there is none. At least we may take\nthe tablets from the walls, though the pillars are too heavy for us to\nhandle; but there should be great storerooms filled with gold--gold\nthat we can carry away upon our backs with ease. Run on now, out into\nthe fresh air where you may breathe easier.\"\n\nSome of the warriors started to obey their chief with alacrity, but\nBusuli and several others hesitated to leave him--hesitated between\nlove and loyalty for their king, and superstitious fear of the unknown.\nAnd then, quite unexpectedly, that occurred which decided the question\nwithout the necessity for further discussion. Out of the silence of\nthe ruined temple there rang, close to their ears, the same hideous\nshriek they had heard the previous night, and with horrified cries the\nblack warriors turned and fled through the empty halls of the age-old\nedifice.\n\nBehind them stood Tarzan of the Apes where they had left him, a grim\nsmile upon his lips--waiting for the enemy he fully expected was about\nto pounce upon him. But again silence reigned, except for the faint\nsuggestion of the sound of naked feet moving stealthily in near-by\nplaces.\n\nThen Tarzan wheeled and passed on into the depths of the temple. From\nroom to room he went, until he came to one at which a rude, barred door\nstill stood, and as he put his shoulder against it to push it in, again\nthe shriek of warning rang out almost beside him. It was evident that\nhe was being warned to refrain from desecrating this particular room.\nOr could it be that within lay the secret to the treasure stores?\n\nAt any rate, the very fact that the strange, invisible guardians of\nthis weird place had some reason for wishing him not to enter this\nparticular chamber was sufficient to treble Tarzan\'s desire to do so,\nand though the shrieking was repeated continuously, he kept his\nshoulder to the door until it gave before his giant strength to swing\nopen upon creaking wooden hinges.\n\nWithin all was black as the tomb. There was no window to let in the\nfaintest ray of light, and as the corridor upon which it opened was\nitself in semi-darkness, even the open door shed no relieving rays\nwithin. Feeling before him upon the floor with the butt of his spear,\nTarzan entered the Stygian gloom. Suddenly the door behind him closed,\nand at the same time hands clutched him from every direction out of the\ndarkness.\n\nThe ape-man fought with all the savage fury of self-preservation backed\nby the herculean strength that was his. But though he felt his blows\nland, and his teeth sink into soft flesh, there seemed always two new\nhands to take the place of those that he fought off. At last they\ndragged him down, and slowly, very slowly, they overcame him by the\nmere weight of their numbers. And then they bound him--his hands\nbehind his back and his feet trussed up to meet them. He had heard no\nsound except the heavy breathing of his antagonists, and the noise of\nthe battle. He knew not what manner of creatures had captured him, but\nthat they were human seemed evident from the fact that they had bound\nhim.\n\nPresently they lifted him from the floor, and half dragging, half\npushing him, they brought him out of the black chamber through another\ndoorway into an inner courtyard of the temple. Here he saw his\ncaptors. There must have been a hundred of them--short, stocky men,\nwith great beards that covered their faces and fell upon their hairy\nbreasts.\n\nThe thick, matted hair upon their heads grew low over their receding\nbrows, and hung about their shoulders and their backs. Their crooked\nlegs were short and heavy, their arms long and muscular. About their\nloins they wore the skins of leopards and lions, and great necklaces of\nthe claws of these same animals depended upon their breasts. Massive\ncirclets of virgin gold adorned their arms and legs. For weapons they\ncarried heavy, knotted bludgeons, and in the belts that confined their\nsingle garments each had a long, wicked-looking knife.\n\nBut the feature of them that made the most startling impression upon\ntheir prisoner was their white skins--neither in color nor feature was\nthere a trace of the negroid about them. Yet, with their receding\nforeheads, wicked little close-set eyes, and yellow fangs, they were\nfar from prepossessing in appearance.\n\nDuring the fight within the dark chamber, and while they had been\ndragging Tarzan to the inner court, no word had been spoken, but now\nseveral of them exchanged grunting, monosyllabic conversation in a\nlanguage unfamiliar to the ape-man, and presently they left him lying\nupon the concrete floor while they trooped off on their short legs into\nanother part of the temple beyond the court.\n\nAs Tarzan lay there upon his back he saw that the temple entirely\nsurrounded the little inclosure, and that on all sides its lofty walls\nrose high above him. At the top a little patch of blue sky was\nvisible, and, in one direction, through an embrasure, he could see\nfoliage, but whether it was beyond or within the temple he did not know.\n\nAbout the court, from the ground to the top of the temple, were series\nof open galleries, and now and then the captive caught glimpses of\nbright eyes gleaming from beneath masses of tumbling hair, peering down\nupon him from above.\n\nThe ape-man gently tested the strength of the bonds that held him, and\nwhile he could not be sure it seemed that they were of insufficient\nstrength to withstand the strain of his mighty muscles when the time\ncame to make a break for freedom; but he did not dare to put them to\nthe crucial test until darkness had fallen, or he felt that no spying\neyes were upon him.\n\nHe had lain within the court for several hours before the first rays of\nsunlight penetrated the vertical shaft; almost simultaneously he heard\nthe pattering of bare feet in the corridors about him, and a moment\nlater saw the galleries above fill with crafty faces as a score or more\nentered the courtyard.\n\nFor a moment every eye was bent upon the noonday sun, and then in\nunison the people in the galleries and those in the court below took up\nthe refrain of a low, weird chant. Presently those about Tarzan began\nto dance to the cadence of their solemn song. They circled him slowly,\nresembling in their manner of dancing a number of clumsy, shuffling\nbears; but as yet they did not look at him, keeping their little eyes\nfixed upon the sun.\n\nFor ten minutes or more they kept up their monotonous chant and steps,\nand then suddenly, and in perfect unison, they turned toward their\nvictim with upraised bludgeons and emitting fearful howls, the while\nthey contorted their features into the most diabolical expressions,\nthey rushed upon him.\n\nAt the same instant a female figure dashed into the midst of the\nbloodthirsty horde, and, with a bludgeon similar to their own, except\nthat it was wrought from gold, beat back the advancing men.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 20\n\nLa\n\n\nFor a moment Tarzan thought that by some strange freak of fate a\nmiracle had saved him, but when he realized the ease with which the\ngirl had, single-handed, beaten off twenty gorilla-like males, and an\ninstant later, as he saw them again take up their dance about him while\nshe addressed them in a singsong monotone, which bore every evidence of\nrote, he came to the conclusion that it was all but a part of the\nceremony of which he was the central figure.\n\nAfter a moment or two the girl drew a knife from her girdle, and,\nleaning over Tarzan, cut the bonds from his legs. Then, as the men\nstopped their dance, and approached, she motioned to him to rise.\nPlacing the rope that had been about his legs around his neck, she led\nhim across the courtyard, the men following in twos.\n\nThrough winding corridors she led, farther and farther into the remoter\nprecincts of the temple, until they came to a great chamber in the\ncenter of which stood an altar. Then it was that Tarzan translated the\nstrange ceremony that had preceded his introduction into this holy of\nholies.\n\nHe had fallen into the hands of descendants of the ancient sun\nworshippers. His seeming rescue by a votaress of the high priestess of\nthe sun had been but a part of the mimicry of their heathen\nceremony--the sun looking down upon him through the opening at the top\nof the court had claimed him as his own, and the priestess had come\nfrom the inner temple to save him from the polluting hands of\nworldlings--to save him as a human offering to their flaming deity.\n\nAnd had he needed further assurance as to the correctness of his theory\nhe had only to cast his eyes upon the brownish-red stains that caked\nthe stone altar and covered the floor in its immediate vicinity, or to\nthe human skulls which grinned from countless niches in the towering\nwalls.\n\nThe priestess led the victim to the altar steps. Again the galleries\nabove filled with watchers, while from an arched doorway at the east\nend of the chamber a procession of females filed slowly into the room.\nThey wore, like the men, only skins of wild animals caught about their\nwaists with rawhide belts or chains of gold; but the black masses of\ntheir hair were incrusted with golden headgear composed of many\ncircular and oval pieces of gold ingeniously held together to form a\nmetal cap from which depended at each side of the head, long strings of\noval pieces falling to the waist.\n\nThe females were more symmetrically proportioned than the males, their\nfeatures were much more perfect, the shapes of their heads and their\nlarge, soft, black eyes denoting far greater intelligence and humanity\nthan was possessed by their lords and masters.\n\nEach priestess bore two golden cups, and as they formed in line along\none side of the altar the men formed opposite them, advancing and\ntaking each a cup from the female opposite. Then the chant began once\nmore, and presently from a dark passageway beyond the altar another\nfemale emerged from the cavernous depths beneath the chamber.\n\nThe high priestess, thought Tarzan. She was a young woman with a\nrather intelligent and shapely face. Her ornaments were similar to\nthose worn by her votaries, but much more elaborate, many being set\nwith diamonds. Her bare arms and legs were almost concealed by the\nmassive, bejeweled ornaments which covered them, while her single\nleopard skin was supported by a close-fitting girdle of golden rings\nset in strange designs with innumerable small diamonds. In the girdle\nshe carried a long, jeweled knife, and in her hand a slender wand in\nlieu of a bludgeon.\n\nAs she advanced to the opposite side of the altar she halted, and the\nchanting ceased. The priests and priestesses knelt before her, while\nwith wand extended above them she recited a long and tiresome prayer.\nHer voice was soft and musical--Tarzan could scarce realize that its\npossessor in a moment more would be transformed by the fanatical\necstasy of religious zeal into a wild-eyed and bloodthirsty\nexecutioner, who, with dripping knife, would be the first to drink her\nvictim\'s red, warm blood from the little golden cup that stood upon the\naltar.\n\nAs she finished her prayer she let her eyes rest for the first time\nupon Tarzan. With every indication of considerable curiosity she\nexamined him from head to foot. Then she addressed him, and when she\nhad finished stood waiting, as though she expected a reply.\n\n\"I do not understand your language,\" said Tarzan. \"Possibly we may\nspeak together in another tongue?\" But she could not understand him,\nthough he tried French, English, Arab, Waziri, and, as a last resort,\nthe mongrel tongue of the West Coast.\n\nShe shook her head, and it seemed that there was a note of weariness in\nher voice as she motioned to the priests to continue with the rites.\nThese now circled in a repetition of their idiotic dance, which was\nterminated finally at a command from the priestess, who had stood\nthroughout, still looking intently upon Tarzan.\n\nAt her signal the priests rushed upon the ape-man, and, lifting him\nbodily, laid him upon his back across the altar, his head hanging over\none edge, his legs over the opposite. Then they and the priestesses\nformed in two lines, with their little golden cups in readiness to\ncapture a share of the victim\'s lifeblood after the sacrificial knife\nhad accomplished its work.\n\nIn the line of priests an altercation arose as to who should have first\nplace. A burly brute with all the refined intelligence of a gorilla\nstamped upon his bestial face was attempting to push a smaller man to\nsecond place, but the smaller one appealed to the high priestess, who\nin a cold peremptory voice sent the larger to the extreme end of the\nline. Tarzan could hear him growling and rumbling as he went slowly to\nthe inferior station.\n\nThen the priestess, standing above him, began reciting what Tarzan took\nto be an invocation, the while she slowly raised her thin, sharp knife\naloft. It seemed ages to the ape-man before her arm ceased its upward\nprogress and the knife halted high above his unprotected breast.\n\nThen it started downward, slowly at first, but as the incantation\nincreased in rapidity, with greater speed. At the end of the line\nTarzan could still hear the grumbling of the disgruntled priest. The\nman\'s voice rose louder and louder. A priestess near him spoke in\nsharp tones of rebuke. The knife was quite near to Tarzan\'s breast\nnow, but it halted for an instant as the high priestess raised her eyes\nto shoot her swift displeasure at the instigator of this sacrilegious\ninterruption.\n\nThere was a sudden commotion in the direction of the disputants, and\nTarzan rolled his head in their direction in time to see the burly\nbrute of a priest leap upon the woman opposite him, dashing out her\nbrains with a single blow of his heavy cudgel. Then that happened\nwhich Tarzan had witnessed a hundred times before among the wild\ndenizens of his own savage jungle. He had seen the thing fall upon\nKerchak, and Tublat, and Terkoz; upon a dozen of the other mighty bull\napes of his tribe; and upon Tantor, the elephant; there was scarce any\nof the males of the forest that did not at times fall prey to it. The\npriest went mad, and with his heavy bludgeon ran amuck among his\nfellows.\n\nHis screams of rage were frightful as he dashed hither and thither,\ndealing terrific blows with his giant weapon, or sinking his yellow\nfangs into the flesh of some luckless victim. And during it the\npriestess stood with poised knife above Tarzan, her eyes fixed in\nhorror upon the maniacal thing that was dealing out death and\ndestruction to her votaries.\n\nPresently the room was emptied except for the dead and dying on the\nfloor, the victim upon the altar, the high priestess, and the madman.\nAs the cunning eyes of the latter fell upon the woman they lighted with\na new and sudden lust. Slowly he crept toward her, and now he spoke;\nbut this time there fell upon Tarzan\'s surprised ears a language he\ncould understand; the last one that he would ever have thought of\nemploying in attempting to converse with human beings--the low guttural\nbarking of the tribe of great anthropoids--his own mother tongue. And\nthe woman answered the man in the same language.\n\nHe was threatening--she attempting to reason with him, for it was quite\nevident that she saw that he was past her authority. The brute was\nquite close now--creeping with clawlike hands extended toward her\naround the end of the altar. Tarzan strained at the bonds which held\nhis arms pinioned behind him. The woman did not see--she had forgotten\nher prey in the horror of the danger that threatened herself. As the\nbrute leaped past Tarzan to clutch his victim, the ape-man gave one\nsuperhuman wrench at the thongs that held him. The effort sent him\nrolling from the altar to the stone floor on the opposite side from\nthat on which the priestess stood; but as he sprang to his feet the\nthongs dropped from his freed arms, and at the same time he realized\nthat he was alone in the inner temple--the high priestess and the mad\npriest had disappeared.\n\nAnd then a muffled scream came from the cavernous mouth of the dark\nhole beyond the sacrificial altar through which the priestess had\nentered the temple. Without even a thought for his own safety, or the\npossibility for escape which this rapid series of fortuitous\ncircumstances had thrust upon him, Tarzan of the Apes answered the call\nof the woman in danger. With a little bound he was at the gaping\nentrance to the subterranean chamber, and a moment later was running\ndown a flight of age-old concrete steps that led he knew not where.\n\nThe faint light that filtered in from above showed him a large,\nlow-ceiled vault from which several doorways led off into inky\ndarkness, but there was no need to thread an unknown way, for there\nbefore him lay the objects of his search--the mad brute had the girl\nupon the floor, and gorilla-like fingers were clutching frantically at\nher throat as she struggled to escape the fury of the awful thing upon\nher.\n\nAs Tarzan\'s heavy hand fell upon his shoulder the priest dropped his\nvictim, and turned upon her would-be rescuer. With foam-flecked lips\nand bared fangs the mad sun-worshiper battled with the tenfold power of\nthe maniac. In the blood lust of his fury the creature had undergone a\nsudden reversion to type, which left him a wild beast, forgetful of the\ndagger that projected from his belt--thinking only of nature\'s weapons\nwith which his brute prototype had battled.\n\nBut if he could use his teeth and hands to advantage, he found one even\nbetter versed in the school of savage warfare to which he had reverted,\nfor Tarzan of the Apes closed with him, and they fell to the floor\ntearing and rending at one another like two bull apes; while the\nprimitive priestess stood flattened against the wall, watching with\nwide, fear-fascinated eyes the growling, snapping beasts at her feet.\n\nAt last she saw the stranger close one mighty hand upon the throat of\nhis antagonist, and as he forced the bruteman\'s head far back rain blow\nafter blow upon the upturned face. A moment later he threw the still\nthing from him, and, arising, shook himself like a lion. He placed a\nfoot upon the carcass before him, and raised his head to give the\nvictory cry of his kind, but as his eyes fell upon the opening above\nhim leading into the temple of human sacrifice he thought better of his\nintended act.\n\nThe girl, who had been half paralyzed by fear as the two men fought,\nhad just commenced to give thought to her probable fate now that,\nthough released from the clutches of a madman, she had fallen into the\nhands of one whom but a moment before she had been upon the point of\nkilling. She looked about for some means of escape. The black mouth\nof a diverging corridor was near at hand, but as she turned to dart\ninto it the ape-man\'s eyes fell upon her, and with a quick leap he was\nat her side, and a restraining hand was laid upon her arm.\n\n\"Wait!\" said Tarzan of the Apes, in the language of the tribe of\nKerchak.\n\nThe girl looked at him in astonishment.\n\n\"Who are you,\" she whispered, \"who speaks the language of the first\nman?\"\n\n\"I am Tarzan of the Apes,\" he answered in the vernacular of the\nanthropoids.\n\n\"What do you want of me?\" she continued. \"For what purpose did you\nsave me from Tha?\"\n\n\"I could not see a woman murdered?\" It was a half question that\nanswered her.\n\n\"But what do you intend to do with me now?\" she continued.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he replied, \"but you can do something for me--you can lead\nme out of this place to freedom.\" He made the suggestion without the\nslightest thought that she would accede. He felt quite sure that the\nsacrifice would go on from the point where it had been interrupted if\nthe high priestess had her way, though he was equally positive that\nthey would find Tarzan of the Apes unbound and with a long dagger in\nhis hand a much less tractable victim than Tarzan disarmed and bound.\n\nThe girl stood looking at him for a long moment before she spoke.\n\n\"You are a very wonderful man,\" she said. \"You are such a man as I\nhave seen in my daydreams ever since I was a little girl. You are such\na man as I imagine the forbears of my people must have been--the great\nrace of people who built this mighty city in the heart of a savage\nworld that they might wrest from the bowels of the earth the fabulous\nwealth for which they had sacrificed their far-distant civilization.\n\n\"I cannot understand why you came to my rescue in the first place, and\nnow I cannot understand why, having me within your power, you do not\nwish to be revenged upon me for having sentenced you to death--for\nhaving almost put you to death with my own hand.\"\n\n\"I presume,\" replied the ape-man, \"that you but followed the teachings\nof your religion. I cannot blame YOU for that, no matter what I may\nthink of your creed. But who are you--what people have I fallen among?\"\n\n\"I am La, high priestess of the Temple of the Sun, in the city of Opar.\nWe are descendants of a people who came to this savage world more than\nten thousand years ago in search of gold. Their cities stretched from\na great sea under the rising sun to a great sea into which the sun\ndescends at night to cool his flaming brow. They were very rich and\nvery powerful, but they lived only a few months of the year in their\nmagnificent palaces here; the rest of the time they spent in their\nnative land, far, far to the north.\n\n\"Many ships went back and forth between this new world and the old.\nDuring the rainy season there were but few of the inhabitants remained\nhere, only those who superintended the working of the mines by the\nblack slaves, and the merchants who had to stay to supply their wants,\nand the soldiers who guarded the cities and the mines.\n\n\"It was at one of these times that the great calamity occurred. When\nthe time came for the teeming thousands to return none came. For weeks\nthe people waited. Then they sent out a great galley to learn why no\none came from the mother country, but though they sailed about for many\nmonths, they were unable to find any trace of the mighty land that had\nfor countless ages borne their ancient civilization--it had sunk into\nthe sea.\n\n\"From that day dated the downfall of my people. Disheartened and\nunhappy, they soon became a prey to the black hordes of the north and\nthe black hordes of the south. One by one the cities were deserted or\novercome. The last remnant was finally forced to take shelter within\nthis mighty mountain fortress. Slowly we have dwindled in power, in\ncivilization, in intellect, in numbers, until now we are no more than a\nsmall tribe of savage apes.\n\n\"In fact, the apes live with us, and have for many ages. We call them\nthe first men--we speak their language quite as much as we do our own;\nonly in the rituals of the temple do we make any attempt to retain our\nmother tongue. In time it will be forgotten, and we will speak only\nthe language of the apes; in time we will no longer banish those of our\npeople who mate with apes, and so in time we shall descend to the very\nbeasts from which ages ago our progenitors may have sprung.\"\n\n\"But why are you more human than the others?\" asked the man.\n\n\"For some reason the women have not reverted to savagery so rapidly as\nthe men. It may be because only the lower types of men remained here\nat the time of the great catastrophe, while the temples were filled\nwith the noblest daughters of the race. My strain has remained clearer\nthan the rest because for countless ages my foremothers were high\npriestesses--the sacred office descends from mother to daughter. Our\nhusbands are chosen for us from the noblest in the land. The most\nperfect man, mentally and physically, is selected to be the husband of\nthe high priestess.\"\n\n\"From what I saw of the gentlemen above,\" said Tarzan, with a grin,\n\"there should be little trouble in choosing from among them.\"\n\nThe girl looked at him quizzically for a moment.\n\n\"Do not be sacrilegious,\" she said. \"They are very holy men--they are\npriests.\"\n\n\"Then there are others who are better to look upon?\" he asked.\n\n\"The others are all more ugly than the priests,\" she replied.\n\nTarzan shuddered at her fate, for even in the dim light of the vault he\nwas impressed by her beauty.\n\n\"But how about myself?\" he asked suddenly. \"Are you going to lead me\nto liberty?\"\n\n\"You have been chosen by The Flaming God as his own,\" she answered\nsolemnly. \"Not even I have the power to save you--should they find you\nagain. But I do not intend that they shall find you. You risked your\nlife to save mine. I may do no less for you. It will be no easy\nmatter--it may require days; but in the end I think that I can lead you\nbeyond the walls. Come, they will look here for me presently, and if\nthey find us together we shall both be lost--they would kill me did\nthey think that I had proved false to my god.\"\n\n\"You must not take the risk, then,\" he said quickly. \"I will return to\nthe temple, and if I can fight my way to freedom there will be no\nsuspicion thrown upon you.\"\n\nBut she would not have it so, and finally persuaded him to follow her,\nsaying that they had already remained in the vault too long to prevent\nsuspicion from falling upon her even if they returned to the temple.\n\n\"I will hide you, and then return alone,\" she said, \"telling them that\nI was long unconscious after you killed Tha, and that I do not know\nwhither you escaped.\"\n\nAnd so she led him through winding corridors of gloom, until finally\nthey came to a small chamber into which a little light filtered through\na stone grating in the ceiling.\n\n\"This is the Chamber of the Dead,\" she said. \"None will think of\nsearching here for you--they would not dare. I will return after it is\ndark. By that time I may have found a plan to effect your escape.\"\n\nShe was gone, and Tarzan of the Apes was left alone in the Chamber of\nthe Dead, beneath the long-dead city of Opar.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 21\n\nThe Castaways\n\n\nClayton dreamed that he was drinking his fill of water, pure,\ndelightful drafts of fresh water. With a start he gained consciousness\nto find himself wet through by torrents of rain that were falling upon\nhis body and his upturned face. A heavy tropical shower was beating\ndown upon them. He opened his mouth and drank. Presently he was so\nrevived and strengthened that he was enabled to raise himself upon his\nhands. Across his legs lay Monsieur Thuran. A few feet aft Jane\nPorter was huddled in a pitiful little heap in the bottom of the\nboat--she was quite still. Clayton knew that she was dead.\n\nAfter infinite labor he released himself from Thuran\'s pinioning body,\nand with renewed strength crawled toward the girl. He raised her head\nfrom the rough boards of the boat\'s bottom. There might be life in\nthat poor, starved frame even yet. He could not quite abandon all\nhope, and so he seized a water-soaked rag and squeezed the precious\ndrops between the swollen lips of the hideous thing that had but a few\nshort days before glowed with the resplendent life of happy youth and\nglorious beauty.\n\nFor some time there was no sign of returning animation, but at last his\nefforts were rewarded by a slight tremor of the half-closed lids. He\nchafed the thin hands, and forced a few more drops of water into the\nparched throat. The girl opened her eyes, looking up at him for a long\ntime before she could recall her surroundings.\n\n\"Water?\" she whispered. \"Are we saved?\"\n\n\"It is raining,\" he explained. \"We may at least drink. Already it has\nrevived us both.\"\n\n\"Monsieur Thuran?\" she asked. \"He did not kill you. Is he dead?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied Clayton. \"If he lives and this rain revives\nhim--\" But he stopped there, remembering too late that he must not add\nfurther to the horrors which the girl already had endured.\n\nBut she guessed what he would have said.\n\n\"Where is he?\" she asked.\n\nClayton nodded his head toward the prostrate form of the Russian. For\na time neither spoke.\n\n\"I will see if I can revive him,\" said Clayton at length.\n\n\"No,\" she whispered, extending a detaining hand toward him. \"Do not do\nthat--he will kill you when the water has given him strength. If he is\ndying, let him die. Do not leave me alone in this boat with that\nbeast.\"\n\nClayton hesitated. His honor demanded that he attempt to revive\nThuran, and there was the possibility, too, that the Russian was beyond\nhuman aid. It was not dishonorable to hope so. As he sat fighting out\nhis battle he presently raised his eyes from the body of the man, and\nas they passed above the gunwale of the boat he staggered weakly to his\nfeet with a little cry of joy.\n\n\"Land, Jane!\" he almost shouted through his cracked lips. \"Thank God,\nland!\"\n\nThe girl looked, too, and there, not a hundred yards away, she saw a\nyellow beach, and, beyond, the luxurious foliage of a tropical jungle.\n\n\"Now you may revive him,\" said Jane Porter, for she, too, had been\nhaunted with the pangs of conscience which had resulted from her\ndecision to prevent Clayton from offering succor to their companion.\n\nIt required the better part of half an hour before the Russian evinced\nsufficient symptoms of returning consciousness to open his eyes, and it\nwas some time later before they could bring him to a realization of\ntheir good fortune. By this time the boat was scraping gently upon the\nsandy bottom.\n\nBetween the refreshing water that he had drunk and the stimulus of\nrenewed hope, Clayton found strength to stagger through the shallow\nwater to the shore with a line made fast to the boat\'s bow. This he\nfastened to a small tree which grew at the top of a low bank, for the\ntide was at flood, and he feared that the boat might carry them all out\nto sea again with the ebb, since it was quite likely that it would be\nbeyond his strength to get Jane Porter to the shore for several hours.\nNext he managed to stagger and crawl toward the near-by jungle, where\nhe had seen evidences of profusion of tropical fruit. His former\nexperience in the jungle of Tarzan of the Apes had taught him which of\nthe many growing things were edible, and after nearly an hour of\nabsence he returned to the beach with a little armful of food.\n\nThe rain had ceased, and the hot sun was beating down so mercilessly\nupon her that Jane Porter insisted on making an immediate attempt to\ngain the land. Still further invigorated by the food Clayton had\nbrought, the three were able to reach the half shade of the small tree\nto which their boat was moored. Here, thoroughly exhausted, they threw\nthemselves down to rest, sleeping until dark.\n\nFor a month they lived upon the beach in comparative safety. As their\nstrength returned the two men constructed a rude shelter in the\nbranches of a tree, high enough from the ground to insure safety from\nthe larger beasts of prey. By day they gathered fruits and trapped\nsmall rodents; at night they lay cowering within their frail shelter\nwhile savage denizens of the jungle made hideous the hours of darkness.\n\nThey slept upon litters of jungle grasses, and for covering at night\nJane Porter had only an old ulster that belonged to Clayton, the same\ngarment that he had worn upon that memorable trip to the Wisconsin\nwoods. Clayton had erected a frail partition of boughs to divide their\narboreal shelter into two rooms--one for the girl and the other for\nMonsieur Thuran and himself.\n\nFrom the first the Russian had exhibited every trait of his true\ncharacter--selfishness, boorishness, arrogance, cowardice, and lust.\nTwice had he and Clayton come to blows because of Thuran\'s attitude\ntoward the girl. Clayton dared not leave her alone with him for an\ninstant. The existence of the Englishman and his fiancee was one\ncontinual nightmare of horror, and yet they lived on in hope of\nultimate rescue.\n\nJane Porter\'s thoughts often reverted to her other experience on this\nsavage shore. Ah, if the invincible forest god of that dead past were\nbut with them now. No longer would there be aught to fear from\nprowling beasts, or from the bestial Russian. She could not well\nrefrain from comparing the scant protection afforded her by Clayton\nwith what she might have expected had Tarzan of the Apes been for a\nsingle instant confronted by the sinister and menacing attitude of\nMonsieur Thuran. Once, when Clayton had gone to the little stream for\nwater, and Thuran had spoken coarsely to her, she voiced her thoughts.\n\n\"It is well for you, Monsieur Thuran,\" she said, \"that the poor\nMonsieur Tarzan who was lost from the ship that brought you and Miss\nStrong to Cape Town is not here now.\"\n\n\"You knew the pig?\" asked Thuran, with a sneer.\n\n\"I knew the man,\" she replied. \"The only real man, I think, that I\nhave ever known.\"\n\nThere was something in her tone of voice that led the Russian to\nattribute to her a deeper feeling for his enemy than friendship, and he\ngrasped at the suggestion to be further revenged upon the man whom he\nsupposed dead by besmirching his memory to the girl.\n\n\"He was worse than a pig,\" he cried. \"He was a poltroon and a coward.\nTo save himself from the righteous wrath of the husband of a woman he\nhad wronged, he perjured his soul in an attempt to place the blame\nentirely upon her. Not succeeding in this, he ran away from France to\nescape meeting the husband upon the field of honor. That is why he was\non board the ship that bore Miss Strong and myself to Cape Town. I\nknow whereof I speak, for the woman in the case is my sister.\nSomething more I know that I have never told another--your brave\nMonsieur Tarzan leaped overboard in an agony of fear because I\nrecognized him, and insisted that he make reparation to me the\nfollowing morning--we could have fought with knives in my stateroom.\"\n\nJane Porter laughed. \"You do not for a moment imagine that one who has\nknown both Monsieur Tarzan and you could ever believe such an\nimpossible tale?\"\n\n\"Then why did he travel under an assumed name?\" asked Monsieur Thuran.\n\n\"I do not believe you,\" she cried, but nevertheless the seed of\nsuspicion was sown, for she knew that Hazel Strong had known her forest\ngod only as John Caldwell, of London.\n\nA scant five miles north of their rude shelter, all unknown to them,\nand practically as remote as though separated by thousands of miles of\nimpenetrable jungle, lay the snug little cabin of Tarzan of the Apes.\nWhile farther up the coast, a few miles beyond the cabin, in crude but\nwell-built shelters, lived a little party of eighteen souls--the\noccupants of the three boats from the LADY ALICE from which Clayton\'s\nboat had become separated.\n\nOver a smooth sea they had rowed to the mainland in less than three\ndays. None of the horrors of shipwreck had been theirs, and though\ndepressed by sorrow, and suffering from the shock of the catastrophe\nand the unaccustomed hardships of their new existence there was none\nmuch the worse for the experience.\n\nAll were buoyed by the hope that the fourth boat had been picked up,\nand that a thorough search of the coast would be quickly made. As all\nthe firearms and ammunition on the yacht had been placed in Lord\nTennington\'s boat, the party was well equipped for defense, and for\nhunting the larger game for food.\n\nProfessor Archimedes Q. Porter was their only immediate anxiety. Fully\nassured in his own mind that his daughter had been picked up by a\npassing steamer, he gave over the last vestige of apprehension\nconcerning her welfare, and devoted his giant intellect solely to the\nconsideration of those momentous and abstruse scientific problems which\nhe considered the only proper food for thought in one of his erudition.\nHis mind appeared blank to the influence of all extraneous matters.\n\n\"Never,\" said the exhausted Mr. Samuel T. Philander, to Lord\nTennington, \"never has Professor Porter been more difficult--er--I\nmight say, impossible. Why, only this morning, after I had been forced\nto relinquish my surveillance for a brief half hour he was entirely\nmissing upon my return. And, bless me, sir, where do you imagine I\ndiscovered him? A half mile out in the ocean, sir, in one of the\nlifeboats, rowing away for dear life. I do not know how he attained\neven that magnificent distance from shore, for he had but a single oar,\nwith which he was blissfully rowing about in circles.\n\n\"When one of the sailors had taken me out to him in another boat the\nprofessor became quite indignant at my suggestion that we return at\nonce to land. \'Why, Mr. Philander,\' he said, \'I am surprised that you,\nsir, a man of letters yourself, should have the temerity so to\ninterrupt the progress of science. I had about deduced from certain\nastronomic phenomena I have had under minute observation during the\npast several tropic nights an entirely new nebular hypothesis which\nwill unquestionably startle the scientific world. I wish to consult a\nvery excellent monograph on Laplace\'s hypothesis, which I understand is\nin a certain private collection in New York City. Your interference,\nMr. Philander, will result in an irreparable delay, for I was just\nrowing over to obtain this pamphlet.\' And it was with the greatest\ndifficulty that I persuaded him to return to shore, without resorting\nto force,\" concluded Mr. Philander.\n\nMiss Strong and her mother were very brave under the strain of almost\nconstant apprehension of the attacks of savage beasts. Nor were they\nquite able to accept so readily as the others the theory that Jane,\nClayton, and Monsieur Thuran had been picked up safely.\n\nJane Porter\'s Esmeralda was in a constant state of tears at the cruel\nfate which had separated her from her \"po, li\'le honey.\"\n\nLord Tennington\'s great-hearted good nature never deserted him for a\nmoment. He was still the jovial host, seeking always for the comfort\nand pleasure of his guests. With the men of his yacht he remained the\njust but firm commander--there was never any more question in the\njungle than there had been on board the LADY ALICE as to who was the\nfinal authority in all questions of importance, and in all emergencies\nrequiring cool and intelligent leadership.\n\nCould this well-organized and comparatively secure party of castaways\nhave seen the ragged, fear-haunted trio a few miles south of them they\nwould scarcely have recognized in them the formerly immaculate members\nof the little company that had laughed and played upon the LADY ALICE.\nClayton and Monsieur Thuran were almost naked, so torn had their\nclothes been by the thorn bushes and tangled vegetation of the matted\njungle through which they had been compelled to force their way in\nsearch of their ever more difficult food supply.\n\nJane Porter had of course not been subjected to these strenuous\nexpeditions, but her apparel was, nevertheless, in a sad state of\ndisrepair.\n\nClayton, for lack of any better occupation, had carefully saved the\nskin of every animal they had killed. By stretching them upon the\nstems of trees, and diligently scraping them, he had managed to save\nthem in a fair condition, and now that his clothes were threatening to\ncover his nakedness no longer, he commenced to fashion a rude garment\nof them, using a sharp thorn for a needle, and bits of tough grass and\nanimal tendons in lieu of thread.\n\nThe result when completed was a sleeveless garment which fell nearly to\nhis knees. As it was made up of numerous small pelts of different\nspecies of rodents, it presented a rather strange and wonderful\nappearance, which, together with the vile stench which permeated it,\nrendered it anything other than a desirable addition to a wardrobe.\nBut the time came when for the sake of decency he was compelled to don\nit, and even the misery of their condition could not prevent Jane\nPorter from laughing heartily at sight of him.\n\nLater, Thuran also found it necessary to construct a similar primitive\ngarment, so that, with their bare legs and heavily bearded faces, they\nlooked not unlike reincarnations of two prehistoric progenitors of the\nhuman race. Thuran acted like one.\n\nNearly two months of this existence had passed when the first great\ncalamity befell them. It was prefaced by an adventure which came near\nterminating abruptly the sufferings of two of them--terminating them in\nthe grim and horrible manner of the jungle, forever.\n\nThuran, down with an attack of jungle fever, lay in the shelter among\nthe branches of their tree of refuge. Clayton had been into the jungle\na few hundred yards in search of food. As he returned Jane Porter\nwalked to meet him. Behind the man, cunning and crafty, crept an old\nand mangy lion. For three days his ancient thews and sinews had proved\ninsufficient for the task of providing his cavernous belly with meat.\nFor months he had eaten less and less frequently, and farther and\nfarther had he roamed from his accustomed haunts in search of easier\nprey. At last he had found nature\'s weakest and most defenseless\ncreature--in a moment more Numa would dine.\n\nClayton, all unconscious of the lurking death behind him, strode out\ninto the open toward Jane. He had reached her side, a hundred feet\nfrom the tangled edge of jungle when past his shoulder the girl saw the\ntawny head and the wicked yellow eyes as the grasses parted, and the\nhuge beast, nose to ground, stepped softly into view.\n\nSo frozen with horror was she that she could utter no sound, but the\nfixed and terrified gaze of her fear-widened eyes spoke as plainly to\nClayton as words. A quick glance behind him revealed the hopelessness\nof their situation. The lion was scarce thirty paces from them, and\nthey were equally as far from the shelter. The man was armed with a\nstout stick--as efficacious against a hungry lion, he realized, as a\ntoy pop-gun charged with a tethered cork.\n\nNuma, ravenous with hunger, had long since learned the futility of\nroaring and moaning as he searched for prey, but now that it was as\nsurely his as though already he had felt the soft flesh beneath his\nstill mighty paw, he opened his huge jaws, and gave vent to his\nlong-pent rage in a series of deafening roars that made the air tremble.\n\n\"Run, Jane!\" cried Clayton. \"Quick! Run for the shelter!\" But her\nparalyzed muscles refused to respond, and she stood mute and rigid,\nstaring with ghastly countenance at the living death creeping toward\nthem.\n\nThuran, at the sound of that awful roar, had come to the opening of the\nshelter, and as he saw the tableau below him he hopped up and down,\nshrieking to them in Russian.\n\n\"Run! Run!\" he cried. \"Run, or I shall be left all alone in this\nhorrible place,\" and then he broke down and commenced to weep. For a\nmoment this new voice distracted the attention of the lion, who halted\nto cast an inquiring glance in the direction of the tree. Clayton\ncould endure the strain no longer. Turning his back upon the beast, he\nburied his head in his arms and waited.\n\nThe girl looked at him in horror. Why did he not do something? If he\nmust die, why not die like a man--bravely; beating at that terrible\nface with his puny stick, no matter how futile it might be. Would\nTarzan of the Apes have done thus? Would he not at least have gone\ndown to his death fighting heroically to the last?\n\nNow the lion was crouching for the spring that would end their young\nlives beneath cruel, rending, yellow fangs. Jane Porter sank to her\nknees in prayer, closing her eyes to shut out the last hideous instant.\nThuran, weak from fever, fainted.\n\nSeconds dragged into minutes, long minutes into an eternity, and yet\nthe beast did not spring. Clayton was almost unconscious from the\nprolonged agony of fright--his knees trembled--a moment more and he\nwould collapse.\n\nJane Porter could endure it no longer. She opened her eyes. Could she\nbe dreaming?\n\n\"William,\" she whispered; \"look!\"\n\nClayton mastered himself sufficiently to raise his head and turn toward\nthe lion. An ejaculation of surprise burst from his lips. At their\nvery feet the beast lay crumpled in death. A heavy war spear protruded\nfrom the tawny hide. It had entered the great back above the right\nshoulder, and, passing entirely through the body, had pierced the\nsavage heart.\n\nJane Porter had risen to her feet; as Clayton turned back to her she\nstaggered in weakness. He put out his arms to save her from falling,\nand then drew her close to him--pressing her head against his shoulder,\nhe stooped to kiss her in thanksgiving.\n\nGently the girl pushed him away.\n\n\"Please do not do that, William,\" she said. \"I have lived a thousand\nyears in the past brief moments. I have learned in the face of death\nhow to live. I do not wish to hurt you more than is necessary; but I\ncan no longer bear to live out the impossible position I have attempted\nbecause of a false sense of loyalty to an impulsive promise I made you.\n\n\"The last few seconds of my life have taught me that it would be\nhideous to attempt further to deceive myself and you, or to entertain\nfor an instant longer the possibility of ever becoming your wife,\nshould we regain civilization.\"\n\n\"Why, Jane,\" he cried, \"what do you mean? What has our providential\nrescue to do with altering your feelings toward me? You are but\nunstrung--tomorrow you will be yourself again.\"\n\n\"I am more nearly myself this minute than I have been for over a year,\"\nshe replied. \"The thing that has just happened has again forced to my\nmemory the fact that the bravest man that ever lived honored me with\nhis love. Until it was too late I did not realize that I returned it,\nand so I sent him away. He is dead now, and I shall never marry. I\ncertainly could not wed another less brave than he without harboring\nconstantly a feeling of contempt for the relative cowardice of my\nhusband. Do you understand me?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered, with bowed head, his face mantling with the flush\nof shame.\n\nAnd it was the next day that the great calamity befell.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 22\n\nThe Treasure Vaults of Opar\n\n\nIt was quite dark before La, the high priestess, returned to the\nChamber of the Dead with food and drink for Tarzan. She bore no light,\nfeeling with her hands along the crumbling walls until she gained the\nchamber. Through the stone grating above, a tropic moon served dimly\nto illuminate the interior.\n\nTarzan, crouching in the shadows at the far side of the room as the\nfirst sound of approaching footsteps reached him, came forth to meet\nthe girl as he recognized that it was she.\n\n\"They are furious,\" were her first words. \"Never before has a human\nsacrifice escaped the altar. Already fifty have gone forth to track\nyou down. They have searched the temple--all save this single room.\"\n\n\"Why do they fear to come here?\" he asked.\n\n\"It is the Chamber of the Dead. Here the dead return to worship. See\nthis ancient altar? It is here that the dead sacrifice the living--if\nthey find a victim here. That is the reason our people shun this\nchamber. Were one to enter he knows that the waiting dead would seize\nhim for their sacrifice.\"\n\n\"But you?\" he asked.\n\n\"I am high priestess--I alone am safe from the dead. It is I who at\nrare intervals bring them a human sacrifice from the world above. I\nalone may enter here in safety.\"\n\n\"Why have they not seized me?\" he asked, humoring her grotesque belief.\n\nShe looked at him quizzically for a moment. Then she replied:\n\n\"It is the duty of a high priestess to instruct, to\ninterpret--according to the creed that others, wiser than herself, have\nlaid down; but there is nothing in the creed which says that she must\nbelieve. The more one knows of one\'s religion the less one\nbelieves--no one living knows more of mine than I.\"\n\n\"Then your only fear in aiding me to escape is that your fellow mortals\nmay discover your duplicity?\"\n\n\"That is all--the dead are dead; they cannot harm--or help. We must\ntherefore depend entirely upon ourselves, and the sooner we act the\nbetter it will be. I had difficulty in eluding their vigilance but now\nin bringing you this morsel of food. To attempt to repeat the thing\ndaily would be the height of folly. Come, let us see how far we may go\ntoward liberty before I must return.\"\n\nShe led him back to the chamber beneath the altar room. Here she\nturned into one of the several corridors leading from it. In the\ndarkness Tarzan could not see which one. For ten minutes they groped\nslowly along a winding passage, until at length they came to a closed\ndoor. Here he heard her fumbling with a key, and presently came the\nsound of a metal bolt grating against metal. The door swung in on\nscraping hinges, and they entered.\n\n\"You will be safe here until tomorrow night,\" she said.\n\nThen she went out, and, closing the door, locked it behind her.\n\nWhere Tarzan stood it was dark as Erebus. Not even his trained eyes\ncould penetrate the utter blackness. Cautiously he moved forward until\nhis out-stretched hand touched a wall, then very slowly he traveled\naround the four walls of the chamber.\n\nApparently it was about twenty feet square. The floor was of concrete,\nthe walls of the dry masonry that marked the method of construction\nabove ground. Small pieces of granite of various sizes were\ningeniously laid together without mortar to construct these ancient\nfoundations.\n\nThe first time around the walls Tarzan thought he detected a strange\nphenomenon for a room with no windows but a single door. Again he\ncrept carefully around close to the wall. No, he could not be\nmistaken! He paused before the center of the wall opposite the door.\nFor a moment he stood quite motionless, then he moved a few feet to one\nside. Again he returned, only to move a few feet to the other side.\n\nOnce more he made the entire circuit of the room, feeling carefully\nevery foot of the walls. Finally he stopped again before the\nparticular section that had aroused his curiosity. There was no doubt\nof it! A distinct draft of fresh air was blowing into the chamber\nthrough the intersection of the masonry at that particular point--and\nnowhere else.\n\nTarzan tested several pieces of the granite which made up the wall at\nthis spot, and finally was rewarded by finding one which lifted out\nreadily. It was about ten inches wide, with a face some three by six\ninches showing within the chamber. One by one the ape-man lifted out\nsimilarly shaped stones. The wall at this point was constructed\nentirely, it seemed, of these almost perfect slabs. In a short time he\nhad removed some dozen, when he reached in to test the next layer of\nmasonry. To his surprise, he felt nothing behind the masonry he had\nremoved as far as his long arm could reach.\n\nIt was a matter of but a few minutes to remove enough of the wall to\npermit his body to pass through the aperture. Directly ahead of him he\nthought he discerned a faint glow--scarcely more than a less\nimpenetrable darkness. Cautiously he moved forward on hands and knees,\nuntil at about fifteen feet, or the average thickness of the foundation\nwalls, the floor ended abruptly in a sudden drop. As far out as he\ncould reach he felt nothing, nor could he find the bottom of the black\nabyss that yawned before him, though, clinging to the edge of the\nfloor, he lowered his body into the darkness to its full length.\n\nFinally it occurred to him to look up, and there above him he saw\nthrough a round opening a tiny circular patch of starry sky. Feeling\nup along the sides of the shaft as far as he could reach, the ape-man\ndiscovered that so much of the wall as he could feel converged toward\nthe center of the shaft as it rose. This fact precluded possibility of\nescape in that direction.\n\nAs he sat speculating on the nature and uses of this strange passage\nand its terminal shaft, the moon topped the opening above, letting a\nflood of soft, silvery light into the shadowy place. Instantly the\nnature of the shaft became apparent to Tarzan, for far below him he saw\nthe shimmering surface of water. He had come upon an ancient well--but\nwhat was the purpose of the connection between the well and the dungeon\nin which he had been hidden?\n\nAs the moon crossed the opening of the shaft its light flooded the\nwhole interior, and then Tarzan saw directly across from him another\nopening in the opposite wall. He wondered if this might not be the\nmouth of a passage leading to possible escape. It would be worth\ninvestigating, at least, and this he determined to do.\n\nQuickly returning to the wall he had demolished to explore what lay\nbeyond it, he carried the stones into the passageway and replaced them\nfrom that side. The deep deposit of dust which he had noticed upon the\nblocks as he had first removed them from the wall had convinced him\nthat even if the present occupants of the ancient pile had knowledge of\nthis hidden passage they had made no use of it for perhaps generations.\n\nThe wall replaced, Tarzan turned to the shaft, which was some fifteen\nfeet wide at this point. To leap across the intervening space was a\nsmall matter to the ape-man, and a moment later he was proceeding along\na narrow tunnel, moving cautiously for fear of being precipitated into\nanother shaft such as he had just crossed.\n\nHe had advanced some hundred feet when he came to a flight of steps\nleading downward into Stygian gloom. Some twenty feet below, the level\nfloor of the tunnel recommenced, and shortly afterward his progress was\nstopped by a heavy wooden door which was secured by massive wooden bars\nupon the side of Tarzan\'s approach. This fact suggested to the ape-man\nthat he might surely be in a passageway leading to the outer world, for\nthe bolts, barring progress from the opposite side, tended to\nsubstantiate this hypothesis, unless it were merely a prison to which\nit led.\n\nAlong the tops of the bars were deep layers of dust--a further\nindication that the passage had lain long unused. As he pushed the\nmassive obstacle aside, its great hinges shrieked out in weird protest\nagainst this unaccustomed disturbance. For a moment Tarzan paused to\nlisten for any responsive note which might indicate that the unusual\nnight noise had alarmed the inmates of the temple; but as he heard\nnothing he advanced beyond the doorway.\n\nCarefully feeling about, he found himself within a large chamber, along\nthe walls of which, and down the length of the floor, were piled many\ntiers of metal ingots of an odd though uniform shape. To his groping\nhands they felt not unlike double-headed bootjacks. The ingots were\nquite heavy, and but for the enormous number of them he would have been\npositive that they were gold; but the thought of the fabulous wealth\nthese thousands of pounds of metal would have represented were they in\nreality gold, almost convinced him that they must be of some baser\nmetal.\n\nAt the far end of the chamber he discovered another barred door, and\nagain the bars upon the inside renewed the hope that he was traversing\nan ancient and forgotten passageway to liberty. Beyond the door the\npassage ran straight as a war spear, and it soon became evident to the\nape-man that it had already led him beyond the outer walls of the\ntemple. If he but knew the direction it was leading him! If toward\nthe west, then he must also be beyond the city\'s outer walls.\n\nWith increasing hopes he forged ahead as rapidly as he dared, until at\nthe end of half an hour he came to another flight of steps leading\nupward. At the bottom this flight was of concrete, but as he ascended\nhis naked feet felt a sudden change in the substance they were\ntreading. The steps of concrete had given place to steps of granite.\nFeeling with his hands, the ape-man discovered that these latter were\nevidently hewed from rock, for there was no crack to indicate a joint.\n\nFor a hundred feet the steps wound spirally up, until at a sudden\nturning Tarzan came into a narrow cleft between two rocky walls. Above\nhim shone the starry sky, and before him a steep incline replaced the\nsteps that had terminated at its foot. Up this pathway Tarzan\nhastened, and at its upper end came out upon the rough top of a huge\ngranite bowlder.\n\nA mile away lay the ruined city of Opar, its domes and turrets bathed\nin the soft light of the equatorial moon. Tarzan dropped his eyes to\nthe ingot he had brought away with him. For a moment he examined it by\nthe moon\'s bright rays, then he raised his head to look out upon the\nancient piles of crumbling grandeur in the distance.\n\n\"Opar,\" he mused, \"Opar, the enchanted city of a dead and forgotten\npast. The city of the beauties and the beasts. City of horrors and\ndeath; but--city of fabulous riches.\" The ingot was of virgin gold.\n\nThe bowlder on which Tarzan found himself lay well out in the plain\nbetween the city and the distant cliffs he and his black warriors had\nscaled the morning previous. To descend its rough and precipitous face\nwas a task of infinite labor and considerable peril even to the\nape-man; but at last he felt the soft soil of the valley beneath his\nfeet, and without a backward glance at Opar he turned his face toward\nthe guardian cliffs, and at a rapid trot set off across the valley.\n\nThe sun was just rising as he gained the summit of the flat mountain at\nthe valley\'s western boundary. Far beneath him he saw smoke arising\nabove the tree-tops of the forest at the base of the foothills.\n\n\"Man,\" he murmured. \"And there were fifty who went forth to track me\ndown. Can it be they?\"\n\nSwiftly he descended the face of the cliff, and, dropping into a narrow\nravine which led down to the far forest, he hastened onward in the\ndirection of the smoke. Striking the forest\'s edge about a quarter of\na mile from the point at which the slender column arose into the still\nair, he took to the trees. Cautiously he approached until there\nsuddenly burst upon his view a rude BOMA, in the center of which,\nsquatted about their tiny fires, sat his fifty black Waziri. He called\nto them in their own tongue:\n\n\"Arise, my children, and greet thy king!\"\n\nWith exclamations of surprise and fear the warriors leaped to their\nfeet, scarcely knowing whether to flee or not. Then Tarzan dropped\nlightly from an overhanging branch into their midst. When they\nrealized that it was indeed their chief in the flesh, and no\nmaterialized spirit, they went mad with joy.\n\n\"We were cowards, oh, Waziri,\" cried Busuli. \"We ran away and left you\nto your fate; but when our panic was over we swore to return and save\nyou, or at least take revenge upon your murderers. We were but now\npreparing to scale the heights once more and cross the desolate valley\nto the terrible city.\"\n\n\"Have you seen fifty frightful men pass down from the cliffs into this\nforest, my children?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"Yes, Waziri,\" replied Busuli. \"They passed us late yesterday, as we\nwere about to turn back after you. They had no woodcraft. We heard\nthem coming for a mile before we saw them, and as we had other business\nin hand we withdrew into the forest and let them pass. They were\nwaddling rapidly along upon short legs, and now and then one would go\nupon all fours like Bolgani, the gorilla. They were indeed fifty\nfrightful men, Waziri.\"\n\nWhen Tarzan had related his adventures and told them of the yellow\nmetal he had found, not one demurred when he outlined a plan to return\nby night and bring away what they could carry of the vast treasure; and\nso it was that as dusk fell across the desolate valley of Opar fifty\nebon warriors trailed at a smart trot over the dry and dusty ground\ntoward the giant bowlder that loomed before the city.\n\nIf it had seemed a difficult task to descend the face of the bowlder,\nTarzan soon found that it would be next to impossible to get his fifty\nwarriors to the summit. Finally the feat was accomplished by dint of\nherculean efforts upon the part of the ape-man. Ten spears were\nfastened end to end, and with one end of this remarkable chain attached\nto his waist, Tarzan at last succeeded in reaching the summit.\n\nOnce there, he drew up one of his blacks, and in this way the entire\nparty was finally landed in safety upon the bowlder\'s top. Immediately\nTarzan led them to the treasure chamber, where to each was allotted a\nload of two ingots, for each about eighty pounds.\n\nBy midnight the entire party stood once more at the foot of the\nbowlder, but with their heavy loads it was mid-forenoon ere they\nreached the summit of the cliffs. From there on the homeward journey\nwas slow, as these proud fighting men were unaccustomed to the duties\nof porters. But they bore their burdens uncomplainingly, and at the\nend of thirty days entered their own country.\n\nHere, instead of continuing on toward the northwest and their village,\nTarzan guided them almost directly west, until on the morning of the\nthirty-third day he bade them break camp and return to their own\nvillage, leaving the gold where they had stacked it the previous night.\n\n\"And you, Waziri?\" they asked.\n\n\"I shall remain here for a few days, my children,\" he replied. \"Now\nhasten back to thy wives and children.\"\n\nWhen they had gone Tarzan gathered up two of the ingots and, springing\ninto a tree, ran lightly above the tangled and impenetrable mass of\nundergrowth for a couple of hundred yards, to emerge suddenly upon a\ncircular clearing about which the giants of the jungle forest towered\nlike a guardian host. In the center of this natural amphitheater, was\na little flat-topped mound of hard earth.\n\nHundreds of times before had Tarzan been to this secluded spot, which\nwas so densely surrounded by thorn bushes and tangled vines and\ncreepers of huge girth that not even Sheeta, the leopard, could worm\nhis sinuous way within, nor Tantor, with his giant strength, force the\nbarriers which protected the council chamber of the great apes from all\nbut the harmless denizens of the savage jungle.\n\nFifty trips Tarzan made before he had deposited all the ingots within\nthe precincts of the amphitheater. Then from the hollow of an ancient,\nlightning-blasted tree he produced the very spade with which he had\nuncovered the chest of Professor Archimedes Q. Porter which he had\nonce, apelike, buried in this selfsame spot. With this he dug a long\ntrench, into which he laid the fortune that his blacks had carried from\nthe forgotten treasure vaults of the city of Opar.\n\nThat night he slept within the amphitheater, and early the next morning\nset out to revisit his cabin before returning to his Waziri. Finding\nthings as he had left them, he went forth into the jungle to hunt,\nintending to bring his prey to the cabin where he might feast in\ncomfort, spending the night upon a comfortable couch.\n\nFor five miles toward the south he roamed, toward the banks of a\nfair-sized river that flowed into the sea about six miles from his\ncabin. He had gone inland about half a mile when there came suddenly\nto his trained nostrils the one scent that sets the whole savage jungle\naquiver--Tarzan smelled man.\n\nThe wind was blowing off the ocean, so Tarzan knew that the authors of\nthe scent were west of him. Mixed with the man scent was the scent of\nNuma. Man and lion. \"I had better hasten,\" thought the ape-man, for\nhe had recognized the scent of whites. \"Numa may be a-hunting.\"\n\nWhen he came through the trees to the edge of the jungle he saw a woman\nkneeling in prayer, and before her stood a wild, primitive-looking\nwhite man, his face buried in his arms. Behind the man a mangy lion\nwas advancing slowly toward this easy prey. The man\'s face was\naverted; the woman\'s bowed in prayer. He could not see the features of\neither.\n\nAlready Numa was about to spring. There was not a second to spare.\nTarzan could not even unsling his bow and fit an arrow in time to send\none of his deadly poisoned shafts into the yellow hide. He was too far\naway to reach the beast in time with his knife. There was but a single\nhope--a lone alternative. And with the quickness of thought the\nape-man acted.\n\nA brawny arm flew back--for the briefest fraction of an instant a huge\nspear poised above the giant\'s shoulder--and then the mighty arm shot\nout, and swift death tore through the intervening leaves to bury itself\nin the heart of the leaping lion. Without a sound he rolled over at\nthe very feet of his intended victims--dead.\n\nFor a moment neither the man nor the woman moved. Then the latter\nopened her eyes to look with wonder upon the dead beast behind her\ncompanion. As that beautiful head went up Tarzan of the Apes gave a\ngasp of incredulous astonishment. Was he mad? It could not be the\nwoman he loved! But, indeed, it was none other.\n\nAnd the woman rose, and the man took her in his arms to kiss her, and\nof a sudden the ape-man saw red through a bloody mist of murder, and\nthe old scar upon his forehead burned scarlet against his brown hide.\n\nThere was a terrible expression upon his savage face as he fitted a\npoisoned shaft to his bow. An ugly light gleamed in those gray eyes as\nhe sighted full at the back of the unsuspecting man beneath him.\n\nFor an instant he glanced along the polished shaft, drawing the\nbowstring far back, that the arrow might pierce through the heart for\nwhich it was aimed.\n\nBut he did not release the fatal messenger. Slowly the point of the\narrow drooped; the scar upon the brown forehead faded; the bowstring\nrelaxed; and Tarzan of the Apes, with bowed head, turned sadly into the\njungle toward the village of the Waziri.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 23\n\nThe Fifty Frightful Men\n\n\nFor several long minutes Jane Porter and William Cecil Clayton stood\nsilently looking at the dead body of the beast whose prey they had so\nnarrowly escaped becoming.\n\nThe girl was the first to speak again after her outbreak of impulsive\navowal.\n\n\"Who could it have been?\" she whispered.\n\n\"God knows!\" was the man\'s only reply.\n\n\"If it is a friend, why does he not show himself?\" continued Jane.\n\"Wouldn\'t it be well to call out to him, and at least thank him?\"\n\nMechanically Clayton did her bidding, but there was no response.\n\nJane Porter shuddered. \"The mysterious jungle,\" she murmured. \"The\nterrible jungle. It renders even the manifestations of friendship\nterrifying.\"\n\n\"We had best return to the shelter,\" said Clayton. \"You will be at\nleast a little safer there. I am no protection whatever,\" he added\nbitterly.\n\n\"Do not say that, William,\" she hastened to urge, acutely sorry for the\nwound her words had caused. \"You have done the best you could. You\nhave been noble, and self-sacrificing, and brave. It is no fault of\nyours that you are not a superman. There is only one other man I have\never known who could have done more than you. My words were ill chosen\nin the excitement of the reaction--I did not wish to wound you. All\nthat I wish is that we may both understand once and for all that I can\nnever marry you--that such a marriage would be wicked.\"\n\n\"I think I understand,\" he replied. \"Let us not speak of it again--at\nleast until we are back in civilization.\"\n\nThe next day Thuran was worse. Almost constantly he was in a state of\ndelirium. They could do nothing to relieve him, nor was Clayton\nover-anxious to attempt anything. On the girl\'s account he feared the\nRussian--in the bottom of his heart he hoped the man would die. The\nthought that something might befall him that would leave her entirely\nat the mercy of this beast caused him greater anxiety than the\nprobability that almost certain death awaited her should she be left\nentirely alone upon the outskirts of the cruel forest.\n\nThe Englishman had extracted the heavy spear from the body of the lion,\nso that when he went into the forest to hunt that morning he had a\nfeeling of much greater security than at any time since they had been\ncast upon the savage shore. The result was that he penetrated farther\nfrom the shelter than ever before.\n\nTo escape as far as possible from the mad ravings of the fever-stricken\nRussian, Jane Porter had descended from the shelter to the foot of the\ntree--she dared not venture farther. Here, beside the crude ladder\nClayton had constructed for her, she sat looking out to sea, in the\nalways surviving hope that a vessel might be sighted.\n\nHer back was toward the jungle, and so she did not see the grasses\npart, or the savage face that peered from between. Little, bloodshot,\nclose-set eyes scanned her intently, roving from time to time about the\nopen beach for indications of the presence of others than herself.\nPresently another head appeared, and then another and another. The man\nin the shelter commenced to rave again, and the heads disappeared as\nsilently and as suddenly as they had come. But soon they were thrust\nforth once more, as the girl gave no sign of perturbation at the\ncontinued wailing of the man above.\n\nOne by one grotesque forms emerged from the jungle to creep stealthily\nupon the unsuspecting woman. A faint rustling of the grasses attracted\nher attention. She turned, and at the sight that confronted her\nstaggered to her feet with a little shriek of fear. Then they closed\nupon her with a rush. Lifting her bodily in his long, gorilla-like\narms, one of the creatures turned and bore her into the jungle. A\nfilthy paw covered her mouth to stifle her screams. Added to the weeks\nof torture she had already undergone, the shock was more than she could\nwithstand. Shattered nerves collapsed, and she lost consciousness.\nWhen she regained her senses she found herself in the thick of the\nprimeval forest. It was night. A huge fire burned brightly in the\nlittle clearing in which she lay. About it squatted fifty frightful\nmen. Their heads and faces were covered with matted hair. Their long\narms rested upon the bent knees of their short, crooked legs. They\nwere gnawing, like beasts, upon unclean food. A pot boiled upon the\nedge of the fire, and out of it one of the creatures would occasionally\ndrag a hunk of meat with a sharpened stick.\n\nWhen they discovered that their captive had regained consciousness, a\npiece of this repulsive stew was tossed to her from the foul hand of a\nnearby feaster. It rolled close to her side, but she only closed her\neyes as a qualm of nausea surged through her.\n\nFor many days they traveled through the dense forest. The girl,\nfootsore and exhausted, was half dragged, half pushed through the long,\nhot, tedious days. Occasionally, when she would stumble and fall, she\nwas cuffed and kicked by the nearest of the frightful men. Long before\nthey reached their journey\'s end her shoes had been discarded--the\nsoles entirely gone. Her clothes were torn to mere shreds and tatters,\nand through the pitiful rags her once white and tender skin showed raw\nand bleeding from contact with the thousand pitiless thorns and\nbrambles through which she had been dragged.\n\nThe last two days of the journey found her in such utter exhaustion\nthat no amount of kicking and abuse could force her to her poor,\nbleeding feet. Outraged nature had reached the limit of endurance, and\nthe girl was physically powerless to raise herself even to her knees.\n\nAs the beasts surrounded her, chattering threateningly the while they\ngoaded her with their cudgels and beat and kicked her with their fists\nand feet, she lay with closed eyes, praying for the merciful death that\nshe knew alone could give her surcease from suffering; but it did not\ncome, and presently the fifty frightful men realized that their victim\nwas no longer able to walk, and so they picked her up and carried her\nthe balance of the journey.\n\nLate one afternoon she saw the ruined walls of a mighty city looming\nbefore them, but so weak and sick was she that it inspired not the\nfaintest shadow of interest. Wherever they were bearing her, there\ncould be but one end to her captivity among these fierce half brutes.\n\nAt last they passed through two great walls and came to the ruined city\nwithin. Into a crumbling pile they bore her, and here she was\nsurrounded by hundreds more of the same creatures that had brought her;\nbut among them were females who looked less horrible. At sight of them\nthe first faint hope that she had entertained came to mitigate her\nmisery. But it was short-lived, for the women offered her no sympathy,\nthough, on the other hand, neither did they abuse her.\n\nAfter she had been inspected to the entire satisfaction of the inmates\nof the building she was borne to a dark chamber in the vaults beneath,\nand here upon the bare floor she was left, with a metal bowl of water\nand another of food.\n\nFor a week she saw only some of the women whose duty it was to bring\nher food and water. Slowly her strength was returning--soon she would\nbe in fit condition to offer as a sacrifice to The Flaming God.\nFortunate indeed it was that she could not know the fate for which she\nwas destined.\n\nAs Tarzan of the Apes moved slowly through the jungle after casting the\nspear that saved Clayton and Jane Porter from the fangs of Numa, his\nmind was filled with all the sorrow that belongs to a freshly opened\nheart wound.\n\nHe was glad that he had stayed his hand in time to prevent the\nconsummation of the thing that in the first mad wave of jealous wrath\nhe had contemplated. Only the fraction of a second had stood between\nClayton and death at the hands of the ape-man. In the short moment\nthat had elapsed after he had recognized the girl and her companion and\nthe relaxing of the taut muscles that held the poisoned shaft directed\nat the Englishman\'s heart, Tarzan had been swayed by the swift and\nsavage impulses of brute life.\n\nHe had seen the woman he craved--his woman--his mate--in the arms of\nanother. There had been but one course open to him, according to the\nfierce jungle code that guided him in this other existence; but just\nbefore it had become too late the softer sentiments of his inherent\nchivalry had risen above the flaming fires of his passion and saved\nhim. A thousand times he gave thanks that they had triumphed before\nhis fingers had released that polished arrow.\n\nAs he contemplated his return to the Waziri the idea became repugnant.\nHe did not wish to see a human being again. At least he would range\nalone through the jungle for a time, until the sharp edge of his sorrow\nhad become blunted. Like his fellow beasts, he preferred to suffer in\nsilence and alone.\n\nThat night he slept again in the amphitheater of the apes, and for\nseveral days he hunted from there, returning at night. On the\nafternoon of the third day he returned early. He had lain stretched\nupon the soft grass of the circular clearing for but a few moments when\nhe heard far to the south a familiar sound. It was the passing through\nthe jungle of a band of great apes--he could not mistake that. For\nseveral minutes he lay listening. They were coming in the direction of\nthe amphitheater.\n\nTarzan arose lazily and stretched himself. His keen ears followed\nevery movement of the advancing tribe. They were upwind, and presently\nhe caught their scent, though he had not needed this added evidence to\nassure him that he was right.\n\nAs they came closer to the amphitheater Tarzan of the Apes melted into\nthe branches upon the other side of the arena. There he waited to\ninspect the newcomers. Nor had he long to wait.\n\nPresently a fierce, hairy face appeared among the lower branches\nopposite him. The cruel little eyes took in the clearing at a glance,\nthen there was a chattered report returned to those behind. Tarzan\ncould hear the words. The scout was telling the other members of the\ntribe that the coast was clear and that they might enter the\namphitheater in safety.\n\nFirst the leader dropped lightly upon the soft carpet of the grassy\nfloor, and then, one by one, nearly a hundred anthropoids followed him.\nThere were the huge adults and several young. A few nursing babes\nclung close to the shaggy necks of their savage mothers.\n\nTarzan recognized many members of the tribe. It was the same into\nwhich he had come as a tiny babe. Many of the adults had been little\napes during his boyhood. He had frolicked and played about this very\njungle with them during their brief childhood. He wondered if they\nwould remember him--the memory of some apes is not overlong, and two\nyears may be an eternity to them.\n\nFrom the talk which he overheard he learned that they had come to\nchoose a new king--their late chief had fallen a hundred feet beneath a\nbroken limb to an untimely end.\n\nTarzan walked to the end of an overhanging limb in plain view of them.\nThe quick eyes of a female caught sight of him first. With a barking\nguttural she called the attention of the others. Several huge bulls\nstood erect to get a better view of the intruder. With bared fangs and\nbristling necks they advanced slowly toward him, with deep-throated,\nominous growls.\n\n\"Karnath, I am Tarzan of the Apes,\" said the ape-man in the vernacular\nof the tribe. \"You remember me. Together we teased Numa when we were\nstill little apes, throwing sticks and nuts at him from the safety of\nhigh branches.\"\n\nThe brute he had addressed stopped with a look of half-comprehending,\ndull wonderment upon his savage face.\n\n\"And Magor,\" continued Tarzan, addressing another, \"do you not recall\nyour former king--he who slew the mighty Kerchak? Look at me! Am I\nnot the same Tarzan--mighty hunter--invincible fighter--that you all\nknew for many seasons?\"\n\nThe apes all crowded forward now, but more in curiosity than\nthreatening. They muttered among themselves for a few moments.\n\n\"What do you want among us now?\" asked Karnath.\n\n\"Only peace,\" answered the ape-man.\n\nAgain the apes conferred. At length Karnath spoke again.\n\n\"Come in peace, then, Tarzan of the Apes,\" he said.\n\nAnd so Tarzan of the Apes dropped lightly to the turf into the midst of\nthe fierce and hideous horde--he had completed the cycle of evolution,\nand had returned to be once again a brute among brutes.\n\nThere were no greetings such as would have taken place among men after\na separation of two years. The majority of the apes went on about the\nlittle activities that the advent of the ape-man had interrupted,\npaying no further attention to him than as though he had not been gone\nfrom the tribe at all.\n\nOne or two young bulls who had not been old enough to remember him\nsidled up on all fours to sniff at him, and one bared his fangs and\ngrowled threateningly--he wished to put Tarzan immediately into his\nproper place. Had Tarzan backed off, growling, the young bull would\nquite probably have been satisfied, but always after Tarzan\'s station\namong his fellow apes would have been beneath that of the bull which\nhad made him step aside.\n\nBut Tarzan of the Apes did not back off. Instead, he swung his giant\npalm with all the force of his mighty muscles, and, catching the young\nbull alongside the head, sent him sprawling across the turf. The ape\nwas up and at him again in a second, and this time they closed with\ntearing fingers and rending fangs--or at least that had been the\nintention of the young bull; but scarcely had they gone down, growling\nand snapping, than the ape-man\'s fingers found the throat of his\nantagonist.\n\nPresently the young bull ceased to struggle, and lay quite still. Then\nTarzan released his hold and arose--he did not wish to kill, only to\nteach the young ape, and others who might be watching, that Tarzan of\nthe Apes was still master.\n\nThe lesson served its purpose--the young apes kept out of his way, as\nyoung apes should when their betters were about, and the old bulls made\nno attempt to encroach upon his prerogatives. For several days the\nshe-apes with young remained suspicious of him, and when he ventured\ntoo near rushed upon him with wide mouths and hideous roars. Then\nTarzan discreetly skipped out of harm\'s way, for that also is a custom\namong the apes--only mad bulls will attack a mother. But after a while\neven they became accustomed to him.\n\nHe hunted with them as in days gone by, and when they found that his\nsuperior reason guided him to the best food sources, and that his\ncunning rope ensnared toothsome game that they seldom if ever tasted,\nthey came again to look up to him as they had in the past after he had\nbecome their king. And so it was that before they left the\namphitheater to return to their wanderings they had once more chosen\nhim as their leader.\n\nThe ape-man felt quite contented with his new lot. He was not\nhappy--that he never could be again, but he was at least as far from\neverything that might remind him of his past misery as he could be.\nLong since he had given up every intention of returning to\ncivilization, and now he had decided to see no more his black friends\nof the Waziri. He had foresworn humanity forever. He had started life\nan ape--as an ape he would die.\n\nHe could not, however, erase from his memory the fact that the woman he\nloved was within a short journey of the stamping-ground of his tribe;\nnor could he banish the haunting fear that she might be constantly in\ndanger. That she was illy protected he had seen in the brief instant\nthat had witnessed Clayton\'s inefficiency. The more Tarzan thought of\nit, the more keenly his conscience pricked him.\n\nFinally he came to loathe himself for permitting his own selfish sorrow\nand jealousy to stand between Jane Porter and safety. As the days\npassed the thing preyed more and more upon his mind, and he had about\ndetermined to return to the coast and place himself on guard over Jane\nPorter and Clayton, when news reached him that altered all his plans\nand sent him dashing madly toward the east in reckless disregard of\naccident and death.\n\nBefore Tarzan had returned to the tribe, a certain young bull, not\nbeing able to secure a mate from among his own people, had, according\nto custom, fared forth through the wild jungle, like some knight-errant\nof old, to win a fair lady from some neighboring community.\n\nHe had but just returned with his bride, and was narrating his\nadventures quickly before he should forget them. Among other things he\ntold of seeing a great tribe of strange-looking apes.\n\n\"They were all hairy-faced bulls but one,\" he said, \"and that one was a\nshe, lighter in color even than this stranger,\" and he chucked a thumb\nat Tarzan.\n\nThe ape-man was all attention in an instant. He asked questions as\nrapidly as the slow-witted anthropoid could answer them.\n\n\"Were the bulls short, with crooked legs?\"\n\n\"They were.\"\n\n\"Did they wear the skins of Numa and Sheeta about their loins, and\ncarry sticks and knives?\"\n\n\"They did.\"\n\n\"And were there many yellow rings about their arms and legs?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And the she one--was she small and slender, and very white?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Did she seem to be one of the tribe, or was she a prisoner?\"\n\n\"They dragged her along--sometimes by an arm--sometimes by the long\nhair that grew upon her head; and always they kicked and beat her. Oh,\nbut it was great fun to watch them.\"\n\n\"God!\" muttered Tarzan.\n\n\"Where were they when you saw them, and which way were they going?\"\ncontinued the ape-man.\n\n\"They were beside the second water back there,\" and he pointed to the\nsouth. \"When they passed me they were going toward the morning, upward\nalong the edge of the water.\"\n\n\"When was this?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"Half a moon since.\"\n\nWithout another word the ape-man sprang into the trees and fled like a\ndisembodied spirit eastward in the direction of the forgotten city of\nOpar.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 24\n\nHow Tarzan Came Again to Opar\n\n\nWhen Clayton returned to the shelter and found Jane Porter was missing,\nhe became frantic with fear and grief. He found Monsieur Thuran quite\nrational, the fever having left him with the surprising suddenness\nwhich is one of its peculiarities. The Russian, weak and exhausted,\nstill lay upon his bed of grasses within the shelter.\n\nWhen Clayton asked him about the girl he seemed surprised to know that\nshe was not there.\n\n\"I have heard nothing unusual,\" he said. \"But then I have been\nunconscious much of the time.\"\n\nHad it not been for the man\'s very evident weakness, Clayton should\nhave suspected him of having sinister knowledge of the girl\'s\nwhereabouts; but he could see that Thuran lacked sufficient vitality\neven to descend, unaided, from the shelter. He could not, in his\npresent physical condition, have harmed the girl, nor could he have\nclimbed the rude ladder back to the shelter.\n\nUntil dark the Englishman searched the nearby jungle for a trace of the\nmissing one or a sign of the trail of her abductor. But though the\nspoor left by the fifty frightful men, unversed in woodcraft as they\nwere, would have been as plain to the densest denizen of the jungle as\na city street to the Englishman, yet he crossed and recrossed it twenty\ntimes without observing the slightest indication that many men had\npassed that way but a few short hours since.\n\nAs he searched, Clayton continued to call the girl\'s name aloud, but\nthe only result of this was to attract Numa, the lion. Fortunately the\nman saw the shadowy form worming its way toward him in time to climb\ninto the branches of a tree before the beast was close enough to reach\nhim. This put an end to his search for the balance of the afternoon,\nas the lion paced back and forth beneath him until dark.\n\nEven after the beast had left, Clayton dared not descend into the awful\nblackness beneath him, and so he spent a terrifying and hideous night\nin the tree. The next morning he returned to the beach, relinquishing\nthe last hope of succoring Jane Porter.\n\nDuring the week that followed, Monsieur Thuran rapidly regained his\nstrength, lying in the shelter while Clayton hunted food for both. The\nmen never spoke except as necessity demanded. Clayton now occupied the\nsection of the shelter which had been reserved for Jane Porter, and\nonly saw the Russian when he took food or water to him, or performed\nthe other kindly offices which common humanity required.\n\nWhen Thuran was again able to descend in search of food, Clayton was\nstricken with fever. For days he lay tossing in delirium and\nsuffering, but not once did the Russian come near him. Food the\nEnglishman could not have eaten, but his craving for water amounted\npractically to torture. Between the recurrent attacks of delirium,\nweak though he was, he managed to reach the brook once a day and fill a\ntiny can that had been among the few appointments of the lifeboat.\n\nThuran watched him on these occasions with an expression of malignant\npleasure--he seemed really to enjoy the suffering of the man who,\ndespite the just contempt in which he held him, had ministered to him\nto the best of his ability while he lay suffering the same agonies. At\nlast Clayton became so weak that he was no longer able to descend from\nthe shelter. For a day he suffered for water without appealing to the\nRussian, but finally, unable to endure it longer, he asked Thuran to\nfetch him a drink. The Russian came to the entrance to Clayton\'s room,\na dish of water in his hand. A nasty grin contorted his features.\n\n\"Here is water,\" he said. \"But first let me remind you that you\nmaligned me before the girl--that you kept her to yourself, and would\nnot share her with me--\"\n\nClayton interrupted him. \"Stop!\" he cried. \"Stop! What manner of cur\nare you that you traduce the character of a good woman whom we believe\ndead! God! I was a fool ever to let you live--you are not fit to live\neven in this vile land.\"\n\n\"Here is your water,\" said the Russian. \"All you will get,\" and he\nraised the basin to his lips and drank; what was left he threw out upon\nthe ground below. Then he turned and left the sick man.\n\nClayton rolled over, and, burying his face in his arms, gave up the\nbattle.\n\nThe next day Thuran determined to set out toward the north along the\ncoast, for he knew that eventually he must come to the habitations of\ncivilized men--at least he could be no worse off than he was here, and,\nfurthermore, the ravings of the dying Englishman were getting on his\nnerves. So he stole Clayton\'s spear and set off upon his journey. He\nwould have killed the sick man before he left had it not occurred to\nhim that it would really have been a kindness to do so.\n\nThat same day he came to a little cabin by the beach, and his heart\nfilled with renewed hope as he saw this evidence of the proximity of\ncivilization, for he thought it but the outpost of a nearby settlement.\nHad he known to whom it belonged, and that its owner was at that very\nmoment but a few miles inland, Nikolas Rokoff would have fled the place\nas he would a pestilence. But he did not know, and so he remained for\na few days to enjoy the security and comparative comforts of the cabin.\nThen he took up his northward journey once more.\n\nIn Lord Tennington\'s camp preparations were going forward to build\npermanent quarters, and then to send out an expedition of a few men to\nthe north in search of relief.\n\nAs the days had passed without bringing the longed-for succor, hope\nthat Jane Porter, Clayton, and Monsieur Thuran had been rescued began\nto die. No one spoke of the matter longer to Professor Porter, and he\nwas so immersed in his scientific dreaming that he was not aware of the\nelapse of time.\n\nOccasionally he would remark that within a few days they should\ncertainly see a steamer drop anchor off their shore, and that then they\nshould all be reunited happily. Sometimes he spoke of it as a train,\nand wondered if it were being delayed by snowstorms.\n\n\"If I didn\'t know the dear old fellow so well by now,\" Tennington\nremarked to Miss Strong, \"I should be quite certain that he\nwas--er--not quite right, don\'t you know.\" \"If it were not so pathetic\nit would be ridiculous,\" said the girl, sadly. \"I, who have known him\nall my life, know how he worships Jane; but to others it must seem that\nhe is perfectly callous to her fate. It is only that he is so\nabsolutely impractical that he cannot conceive of so real a thing as\ndeath unless nearly certain proof of it is thrust upon him.\"\n\n\"You\'d never guess what he was about yesterday,\" continued Tennington.\n\"I was coming in alone from a little hunt when I met him walking\nrapidly along the game trail that I was following back to camp. His\nhands were clasped beneath the tails of his long black coat, and his\ntop hat was set firmly down upon his head, as with eyes bent upon the\nground he hastened on, probably to some sudden death had I not\nintercepted him.\n\n\"\'Why, where in the world are you bound, professor?\' I asked him. \'I\nam going into town, Lord Tennington,\' he said, as seriously as\npossible, \'to complain to the postmaster about the rural free delivery\nservice we are suffering from here. Why, sir, I haven\'t had a piece of\nmail in weeks. There should be several letters for me from Jane. The\nmatter must be reported to Washington at once.\'\n\n\"And would you believe it, Miss Strong,\" continued Tennington, \"I had\nthe very deuce of a job to convince the old fellow that there was not\nonly no rural free delivery, but no town, and that he was not even on\nthe same continent as Washington, nor in the same hemisphere.\n\n\"When he did realize he commenced to worry about his daughter--I think\nit is the first time that he really has appreciated our position here,\nor the fact that Miss Porter may not have been rescued.\"\n\n\"I hate to think about it,\" said the girl, \"and yet I can think of\nnothing else than the absent members of our party.\"\n\n\"Let us hope for the best,\" replied Tennington. \"You yourself have set\nus each a splendid example of bravery, for in a way your loss has been\nthe greatest.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she replied; \"I could have loved Jane Porter no more had she\nbeen my own sister.\"\n\nTennington did not show the surprise he felt. That was not at all what\nhe meant. He had been much with this fair daughter of Maryland since\nthe wreck of the LADY ALICE, and it had recently come to him that he\nhad grown much more fond of her than would prove good for the peace of\nhis mind, for he recalled almost constantly now the confidence which\nMonsieur Thuran had imparted to him that he and Miss Strong were\nengaged. He wondered if, after all, Thuran had been quite accurate in\nhis statement. He had never seen the slightest indication on the\ngirl\'s part of more than ordinary friendship.\n\n\"And then in Monsieur Thuran\'s loss, if they are lost, you would suffer\na severe bereavement,\" he ventured.\n\nShe looked up at him quickly. \"Monsieur Thuran had become a very dear\nfriend,\" she said. \"I liked him very much, though I have known him but\na short time.\"\n\n\"Then you were not engaged to marry him?\" he blurted out. \"Heavens,\nno!\" she cried. \"I did not care for him at all in that way.\"\n\nThere was something that Lord Tennington wanted to say to Hazel\nStrong--he wanted very badly to say it, and to say it at once; but\nsomehow the words stuck in his throat. He started lamely a couple of\ntimes, cleared his throat, became red in the face, and finally ended by\nremarking that he hoped the cabins would be finished before the rainy\nseason commenced.\n\nBut, though he did not know it, he had conveyed to the girl the very\nmessage he intended, and it left her happy--happier than she had ever\nbefore been in all her life.\n\nJust then further conversation was interrupted by the sight of a\nstrange and terrible-looking figure which emerged from the jungle just\nsouth of the camp. Tennington and the girl saw it at the same time.\nThe Englishman reached for his revolver, but when the half-naked,\nbearded creature called his name aloud and came running toward them he\ndropped his hand and advanced to meet it.\n\nNone would have recognized in the filthy, emaciated creature, covered\nby a single garment of small skins, the immaculate Monsieur Thuran the\nparty had last seen upon the deck of the LADY ALICE.\n\nBefore the other members of the little community were apprised of his\npresence Tennington and Miss Strong questioned him regarding the other\noccupants of the missing boat.\n\n\"They are all dead,\" replied Thuran. \"The three sailors died before we\nmade land. Miss Porter was carried off into the jungle by some wild\nanimal while I was lying delirious with fever. Clayton died of the\nsame fever but a few days since. And to think that all this time we\nhave been separated by but a few miles--scarcely a day\'s march. It is\nterrible!\"\n\n\nHow long Jane Porter lay in the darkness of the vault beneath the\ntemple in the ancient city of Opar she did not know. For a time she\nwas delirious with fever, but after this passed she commenced slowly to\nregain her strength. Every day the woman who brought her food beckoned\nto her to arise, but for many days the girl could only shake her head\nto indicate that she was too weak.\n\nBut eventually she was able to gain her feet, and then to stagger a few\nsteps by supporting herself with one hand upon the wall. Her captors\nnow watched her with increasing interest. The day was approaching, and\nthe victim was gaining in strength.\n\nPresently the day came, and a young woman whom Jane Porter had not seen\nbefore came with several others to her dungeon. Here some sort of\nceremony was performed--that it was of a religious nature the girl was\nsure, and so she took new heart, and rejoiced that she had fallen among\npeople upon whom the refining and softening influences of religion\nevidently had fallen. They would treat her humanely--of that she was\nnow quite sure.\n\nAnd so when they led her from her dungeon, through long, dark\ncorridors, and up a flight of concrete steps to a brilliant courtyard,\nshe went willingly, even gladly--for was she not among the servants of\nGod? It might be, of course, that their interpretation of the supreme\nbeing differed from her own, but that they owned a god was sufficient\nevidence to her that they were kind and good.\n\nBut when she saw a stone altar in the center of the courtyard, and\ndark-brown stains upon it and the nearby concrete of the floor, she\nbegan to wonder and to doubt. And as they stooped and bound her\nankles, and secured her wrists behind her, her doubts were turned to\nfear. A moment later, as she was lifted and placed supine across the\naltar\'s top, hope left her entirely, and she trembled in an agony of\nfright.\n\nDuring the grotesque dance of the votaries which followed, she lay\nfrozen in horror, nor did she require the sight of the thin blade in\nthe hands of the high priestess as it rose slowly above her to\nenlighten her further as to her doom.\n\nAs the hand began its descent, Jane Porter closed her eyes and sent up\na silent prayer to the Maker she was so soon to face--then she\nsuccumbed to the strain upon her tired nerves, and swooned.\n\n\nDay and night Tarzan of the Apes raced through the primeval forest\ntoward the ruined city in which he was positive the woman he loved lay\neither a prisoner or dead.\n\nIn a day and a night he covered the same distance that the fifty\nfrightful men had taken the better part of a week to traverse, for\nTarzan of the Apes traveled along the middle terrace high above the\ntangled obstacles that impede progress upon the ground.\n\nThe story the young bull ape had told made it clear to him that the\ngirl captive had been Jane Porter, for there was not another small\nwhite \"she\" in all the jungle. The \"bulls\" he had recognized from the\nape\'s crude description as the grotesque parodies upon humanity who\ninhabit the ruins of Opar. And the girl\'s fate he could picture as\nplainly as though he were an eyewitness to it. When they would lay her\nacross that trim altar he could not guess, but that her dear, frail\nbody would eventually find its way there he was confident.\n\nBut, finally, after what seemed long ages to the impatient ape-man, he\ntopped the barrier cliffs that hemmed the desolate valley, and below\nhim lay the grim and awful ruins of the now hideous city of Opar. At a\nrapid trot he started across the dry and dusty, bowlder-strewn ground\ntoward the goal of his desires.\n\nWould he be in time to rescue? He hoped against hope. At least he\ncould be revenged, and in his wrath it seemed to him that he was equal\nto the task of wiping out the entire population of that terrible city.\nIt was nearly noon when he reached the great bowlder at the top of\nwhich terminated the secret passage to the pits beneath the city. Like\na cat he scaled the precipitous sides of the frowning granite KOPJE. A\nmoment later he was running through the darkness of the long, straight\ntunnel that led to the treasure vault. Through this he passed, then on\nand on until at last he came to the well-like shaft upon the opposite\nside of which lay the dungeon with the false wall.\n\nAs he paused a moment upon the brink of the well a faint sound came to\nhim through the opening above. His quick ears caught and translated\nit--it was the dance of death that preceded a sacrifice, and the\nsingsong ritual of the high priestess. He could even recognize the\nwoman\'s voice. Could it be that the ceremony marked the very thing he\nhad so hastened to prevent? A wave of horror swept over him. Was he,\nafter all, to be just a moment too late? Like a frightened deer he\nleaped across the narrow chasm to the continuation of the passage\nbeyond. At the false wall he tore like one possessed to demolish the\nbarrier that confronted him--with giant muscles he forced the opening,\nthrusting his head and shoulders through the first small hole he made,\nand carrying the balance of the wall with him, to clatter resoundingly\nupon the cement floor of the dungeon.\n\nWith a single leap he cleared the length of the chamber and threw\nhimself against the ancient door. But here he stopped. The mighty\nbars upon the other side were proof even against such muscles as his.\nIt needed but a moment\'s effort to convince him of the futility of\nendeavoring to force that impregnable barrier. There was but one other\nway, and that led back through the long tunnels to the bowlder a mile\nbeyond the city\'s walls, and then back across the open as he had come\nto the city first with his Waziri.\n\nHe realized that to retrace his steps and enter the city from above\nground would mean that he would be too late to save the girl, if it\nwere indeed she who lay upon the sacrificial altar above him. But\nthere seemed no other way, and so he turned and ran swiftly back into\nthe passageway beyond the broken wall. At the well he heard again the\nmonotonous voice of the high priestess, and, as he glanced aloft, the\nopening, twenty feet above, seemed so near that he was tempted to leap\nfor it in a mad endeavor to reach the inner courtyard that lay so near.\n\nIf he could but get one end of his grass rope caught upon some\nprojection at the top of that tantalizing aperture! In the instant\'s\npause and thought an idea occurred to him. He would attempt it.\nTurning back to the tumbled wall, he seized one of the large, flat\nslabs that had composed it. Hastily making one end of his rope fast to\nthe piece of granite, he returned to the shaft, and, coiling the\nbalance of the rope on the floor beside him, the ape-man took the heavy\nslab in both hands, and, swinging it several times to get the distance\nand the direction fixed, he let the weight fly up at a slight angle, so\nthat, instead of falling straight back into the shaft again, it grazed\nthe far edge, tumbling over into the court beyond.\n\nTarzan dragged for a moment upon the slack end of the rope until he\nfelt that the stone was lodged with fair security at the shaft\'s top,\nthen he swung out over the black depths beneath. The moment his full\nweight came upon the rope he felt it slip from above. He waited there\nin awful suspense as it dropped in little jerks, inch by inch. The\nstone was being dragged up the outside of the masonry surrounding the\ntop of the shaft--would it catch at the very edge, or would his weight\ndrag it over to fall upon him as he hurtled into the unknown depths\nbelow?\n\n\n\n\nChapter 25\n\nThrough the Forest Primeval\n\n\nFor a brief, sickening moment Tarzan felt the slipping of the rope to\nwhich he clung, and heard the scraping of the block of stone against\nthe masonry above.\n\nThen of a sudden the rope was still--the stone had caught at the very\nedge. Gingerly the ape-man clambered up the frail rope. In a moment\nhis head was above the edge of the shaft. The court was empty. The\ninhabitants of Opar were viewing the sacrifice. Tarzan could hear the\nvoice of La from the nearby sacrificial court. The dance had ceased.\nIt must be almost time for the knife to fall; but even as he thought\nthese things he was running rapidly toward the sound of the high\npriestess\' voice.\n\nFate guided him to the very doorway of the great roofless chamber.\nBetween him and the altar was the long row of priests and priestesses,\nawaiting with their golden cups the spilling of the warm blood of their\nvictim. La\'s hand was descending slowly toward the bosom of the frail,\nquiet figure that lay stretched upon the hard stone. Tarzan gave a\ngasp that was almost a sob as he recognized the features of the girl he\nloved. And then the scar upon his forehead turned to a flaming band of\nscarlet, a red mist floated before his eyes, and, with the awful roar\nof the bull ape gone mad, he sprang like a huge lion into the midst of\nthe votaries.\n\nSeizing a cudgel from the nearest priest, he laid about him like a\nveritable demon as he forged his rapid way toward the altar. The hand\nof La had paused at the first noise of interruption. When she saw who\nthe author of it was she went white. She had never been able to fathom\nthe secret of the strange white man\'s escape from the dungeon in which\nshe had locked him. She had not intended that he should ever leave\nOpar, for she had looked upon his giant frame and handsome face with\nthe eyes of a woman and not those of a priestess.\n\nIn her clever mind she had concocted a story of wonderful revelation\nfrom the lips of the flaming god himself, in which she had been ordered\nto receive this white stranger as a messenger from him to his people on\nearth. That would satisfy the people of Opar, she knew. The man would\nbe satisfied, she felt quite sure, to remain and be her husband rather\nthan to return to the sacrificial altar.\n\nBut when she had gone to explain her plan to him he had disappeared,\nthough the door had been tightly locked as she had left it. And now he\nhad returned--materialized from thin air--and was killing her priests\nas though they had been sheep. For the moment she forgot her victim,\nand before she could gather her wits together again the huge white man\nwas standing before her, the woman who had lain upon the altar in his\narms.\n\n\"One side, La,\" he cried. \"You saved me once, and so I would not harm\nyou; but do not interfere or attempt to follow, or I shall have to kill\nyou also.\"\n\nAs he spoke he stepped past her toward the entrance to the subterranean\nvaults.\n\n\"Who is she?\" asked the high priestess, pointing at the unconscious\nwoman.\n\n\"She is mine,\" said Tarzan of the Apes.\n\nFor a moment the girl of Opar stood wide-eyed and staring. Then a look\nof hopeless misery suffused her eyes--tears welled into them, and with\na little cry she sank to the cold floor, just as a swarm of frightful\nmen dashed past her to leap upon the ape-man.\n\nBut Tarzan of the Apes was not there when they reached out to seize\nhim. With a light bound he had disappeared into the passage leading to\nthe pits below, and when his pursuers came more cautiously after they\nfound the chamber empty, they but laughed and jabbered to one another,\nfor they knew that there was no exit from the pits other than the one\nthrough which he had entered. If he came out at all he must come this\nway, and they would wait and watch for him above.\n\nAnd so Tarzan of the Apes, carrying the unconscious Jane Porter, came\nthrough the pits of Opar beneath the temple of The Flaming God without\npursuit. But when the men of Opar had talked further about the matter,\nthey recalled to mind that this very man had escaped once before into\nthe pits, and, though they had watched the entrance he had not come\nforth; and yet today he had come upon them from the outside. They\nwould again send fifty men out into the valley to find and capture this\ndesecrater of their temple.\n\nAfter Tarzan reached the shaft beyond the broken wall, he felt so\npositive of the successful issue of his flight that he stopped to\nreplace the tumbled stones, for he was not anxious that any of the\ninmates should discover this forgotten passage, and through it come\nupon the treasure chamber. It was in his mind to return again to Opar\nand bear away a still greater fortune than he had already buried in the\namphitheater of the apes.\n\nOn through the passageways he trotted, past the first door and through\nthe treasure vault; past the second door and into the long, straight\ntunnel that led to the lofty hidden exit beyond the city. Jane Porter\nwas still unconscious.\n\nAt the crest of the great bowlder he halted to cast a backward glance\ntoward the city. Coming across the plain he saw a band of the hideous\nmen of Opar. For a moment he hesitated. Should he descend and make a\nrace for the distant cliffs, or should he hide here until night? And\nthen a glance at the girl\'s white face determined him. He could not\nkeep her here and permit her enemies to get between them and liberty.\nFor aught he knew they might have been followed through the tunnels,\nand to have foes before and behind would result in almost certain\ncapture, since he could not fight his way through the enemy burdened as\nhe was with the unconscious girl.\n\nTo descend the steep face of the bowlder with Jane Porter was no easy\ntask, but by binding her across his shoulders with the grass rope he\nsucceeded in reaching the ground in safety before the Oparians arrived\nat the great rock. As the descent had been made upon the side away\nfrom the city, the searching party saw nothing of it, nor did they\ndream that their prey was so close before them.\n\nBy keeping the KOPJE between them and their pursuers, Tarzan of the\nApes managed to cover nearly a mile before the men of Opar rounded the\ngranite sentinel and saw the fugitive before them. With loud cries of\nsavage delight, they broke into a mad run, thinking doubtless that they\nwould soon overhaul the burdened runner; but they both underestimated\nthe powers of the ape-man and overestimated the possibilities of their\nown short, crooked legs.\n\nBy maintaining an easy trot, Tarzan kept the distance between them\nalways the same. Occasionally he would glance at the face so near his\nown. Had it not been for the faint beating of the heart pressed so\nclose against his own, he would not have known that she was alive, so\nwhite and drawn was the poor, tired face.\n\nAnd thus they came to the flat-topped mountain and the barrier cliffs.\nDuring the last mile Tarzan had let himself out, running like a deer\nthat he might have ample time to descend the face of the cliffs before\nthe Oparians could reach the summit and hurl rocks down upon them. And\nso it was that he was half a mile down the mountainside ere the fierce\nlittle men came panting to the edge.\n\nWith cries of rage and disappointment they ranged along the cliff top\nshaking their cudgels, and dancing up and down in a perfect passion of\nanger. But this time they did not pursue beyond the boundary of their\nown country. Whether it was because they recalled the futility of\ntheir former long and irksome search, or after witnessing the ease with\nwhich the ape-man swung along before them, and the last burst of speed,\nthey realized the utter hopelessness of further pursuit, it is\ndifficult to say; but as Tarzan reached the woods that began at the\nbase of the foothills which skirted the barrier cliffs they turned\ntheir faces once more toward Opar.\n\nJust within the forest\'s edge, where he could yet watch the cliff tops,\nTarzan laid his burden upon the grass, and going to the near-by rivulet\nbrought water with which he bathed her face and hands; but even this\ndid not revive her, and, greatly worried, he gathered the girl into his\nstrong arms once more and hurried on toward the west.\n\nLate in the afternoon Jane Porter regained consciousness. She did not\nopen her eyes at once--she was trying to recall the scenes that she had\nlast witnessed. Ah, she remembered now. The altar, the terrible\npriestess, the descending knife. She gave a little shudder, for she\nthought that either this was death or that the knife had buried itself\nin her heart and she was experiencing the brief delirium preceding\ndeath. And when finally she mustered courage to open her eyes, the\nsight that met them confirmed her fears, for she saw that she was being\nborne through a leafy paradise in the arms of her dead love. \"If this\nbe death,\" she murmured, \"thank God that I am dead.\"\n\n\"You spoke, Jane!\" cried Tarzan. \"You are regaining consciousness!\"\n\n\"Yes, Tarzan of the Apes,\" she replied, and for the first time in\nmonths a smile of peace and happiness lighted her face.\n\n\"Thank God!\" cried the ape-man, coming to the ground in a little grassy\nclearing beside the stream. \"I was in time, after all.\"\n\n\"In time? What do you mean?\" she questioned.\n\n\"In time to save you from death upon the altar, dear,\" he replied. \"Do\nyou not remember?\" \"Save me from death?\" she asked, in a puzzled tone.\n\"Are we not both dead, my Tarzan?\"\n\nHe had placed her upon the grass by now, her back resting against the\nstem of a huge tree. At her question he stepped back where he could\nthe better see her face.\n\n\"Dead!\" he repeated, and then he laughed. \"You are not, Jane; and if\nyou will return to the city of Opar and ask them who dwell there they\nwill tell you that I was not dead a few short hours ago. No, dear, we\nare both very much alive.\"\n\n\"But both Hazel and Monsieur Thuran told me that you had fallen into\nthe ocean many miles from land,\" she urged, as though trying to\nconvince him that he must indeed be dead. \"They said that there was no\nquestion but that it must have been you, and less that you could have\nsurvived or been picked up.\"\n\n\"How can I convince you that I am no spirit?\" he asked, with a laugh.\n\"It was I whom the delightful Monsieur Thuran pushed overboard, but I\ndid not drown--I will tell you all about it after a while--and here I\nam very much the same wild man you first knew, Jane Porter.\"\n\nThe girl rose slowly to her feet and came toward him.\n\n\"I cannot even yet believe it,\" she murmured. \"It cannot be that such\nhappiness can be true after all the hideous things that I have passed\nthrough these awful months since the LADY ALICE went down.\"\n\nShe came close to him and laid a hand, soft and trembling, upon his arm.\n\n\"It must be that I am dreaming, and that I shall awaken in a moment to\nsee that awful knife descending toward my heart--kiss me, dear, just\nonce before I lose my dream forever.\"\n\nTarzan of the Apes needed no second invitation. He took the girl he\nloved in his strong arms, and kissed her not once, but a hundred times,\nuntil she lay there panting for breath; yet when he stopped she put her\narms about his neck and drew his lips down to hers once more.\n\n\"Am I alive and a reality, or am I but a dream?\" he asked.\n\n\"If you are not alive, my man,\" she answered, \"I pray that I may die\nthus before I awaken to the terrible realities of my last waking\nmoments.\"\n\nFor a while both were silent--gazing into each others\' eyes as though\neach still questioned the reality of the wonderful happiness that had\ncome to them. The past, with all its hideous disappointments and\nhorrors, was forgotten--the future did not belong to them; but the\npresent--ah, it was theirs; none could take it from them. It was the\ngirl who first broke the sweet silence.\n\n\"Where are we going, dear?\" she asked. \"What are we going to do?\"\n\n\"Where would you like best to go?\" he asked. \"What would you like best\nto do?\"\n\n\"To go where you go, my man; to do whatever seems best to you,\" she\nanswered.\n\n\"But Clayton?\" he asked. For a moment he had forgotten that there\nexisted upon the earth other than they two. \"We have forgotten your\nhusband.\"\n\n\"I am not married, Tarzan of the Apes,\" she cried. \"Nor am I longer\npromised in marriage. The day before those awful creatures captured me\nI spoke to Mr. Clayton of my love for you, and he understood then that\nI could not keep the wicked promise that I had made. It was after we\nhad been miraculously saved from an attacking lion.\" She paused\nsuddenly and looked up at him, a questioning light in her eyes.\n\"Tarzan of the Apes,\" she cried, \"it was you who did that thing? It\ncould have been no other.\"\n\nHe dropped his eyes, for he was ashamed.\n\n\"How could you have gone away and left me?\" she cried reproachfully.\n\n\"Don\'t, Jane!\" he pleaded. \"Please don\'t! You cannot know how I have\nsuffered since for the cruelty of that act, or how I suffered then,\nfirst in jealous rage, and then in bitter resentment against the fate\nthat I had not deserved. I went back to the apes after that, Jane,\nintending never again to see a human being.\" He told her then of his\nlife since he had returned to the jungle--of how he had dropped like a\nplummet from a civilized Parisian to a savage Waziri warrior, and from\nthere back to the brute that he had been raised.\n\nShe asked him many questions, and at last fearfully of the things that\nMonsieur Thuran had told her--of the woman in Paris. He narrated every\ndetail of his civilized life to her, omitting nothing, for he felt no\nshame, since his heart always had been true to her. When he had\nfinished he sat looking at her, as though waiting for her judgment, and\nhis sentence.\n\n\"I knew that he was not speaking the truth,\" she said. \"Oh, what a\nhorrible creature he is!\"\n\n\"You are not angry with me, then?\" he asked.\n\nAnd her reply, though apparently most irrelevant, was truly feminine.\n\n\"Is Olga de Coude very beautiful?\" she asked.\n\nAnd Tarzan laughed and kissed her again. \"Not one-tenth so beautiful\nas you, dear,\" he said.\n\nShe gave a contented little sigh, and let her head rest against his\nshoulder. He knew that he was forgiven.\n\nThat night Tarzan built a snug little bower high among the swaying\nbranches of a giant tree, and there the tired girl slept, while in a\ncrotch beneath her the ape-man curled, ready, even in sleep, to protect\nher.\n\nIt took them many days to make the long journey to the coast. Where\nthe way was easy they walked hand in hand beneath the arching boughs of\nthe mighty forest, as might in a far-gone past have walked their\nprimeval forbears. When the underbrush was tangled he took her in his\ngreat arms, and bore her lightly through the trees, and the days were\nall too short, for they were very happy. Had it not been for their\nanxiety to reach and succor Clayton they would have drawn out the sweet\npleasure of that wonderful journey indefinitely.\n\nOn the last day before they reached the coast Tarzan caught the scent\nof men ahead of them--the scent of black men. He told the girl, and\ncautioned her to maintain silence. \"There are few friends in the\njungle,\" he remarked dryly.\n\nIn half an hour they came stealthily upon a small party of black\nwarriors filing toward the west. As Tarzan saw them he gave a cry of\ndelight--it was a band of his own Waziri. Busuli was there, and others\nwho had accompanied him to Opar. At sight of him they danced and cried\nout in exuberant joy. For weeks they had been searching for him, they\ntold him.\n\nThe blacks exhibited considerable wonderment at the presence of the\nwhite girl with him, and when they found that she was to be his woman\nthey vied with one another to do her honor. With the happy Waziri\nlaughing and dancing about them they came to the rude shelter by the\nshore.\n\nThere was no sign of life, and no response to their calls. Tarzan\nclambered quickly to the interior of the little tree hut, only to\nemerge a moment later with an empty tin. Throwing it down to Busuli,\nhe told him to fetch water, and then he beckoned Jane Porter to come up.\n\nTogether they leaned over the emaciated thing that once had been an\nEnglish nobleman. Tears came to the girl\'s eyes as she saw the poor,\nsunken cheeks and hollow eyes, and the lines of suffering upon the once\nyoung and handsome face.\n\n\"He still lives,\" said Tarzan. \"We will do all that can be done for\nhim, but I fear that we are too late.\"\n\nWhen Busuli had brought the water Tarzan forced a few drops between the\ncracked and swollen lips. He wetted the hot forehead and bathed the\npitiful limbs.\n\nPresently Clayton opened his eyes. A faint, shadowy smile lighted his\ncountenance as he saw the girl leaning over him. At sight of Tarzan\nthe expression changed to one of wonderment.\n\n\"It\'s all right, old fellow,\" said the ape-man. \"We\'ve found you in\ntime. Everything will be all right now, and we\'ll have you on your\nfeet again before you know it.\"\n\nThe Englishman shook his head weakly. \"It\'s too late,\" he whispered.\n\"But it\'s just as well. I\'d rather die.\"\n\n\"Where is Monsieur Thuran?\" asked the girl.\n\n\"He left me after the fever got bad. He is a devil. When I begged for\nthe water that I was too weak to get he drank before me, threw the rest\nout, and laughed in my face.\" At the thought of it the man was suddenly\nanimated by a spark of vitality. He raised himself upon one elbow.\n\"Yes,\" he almost shouted; \"I will live. I will live long enough to\nfind and kill that beast!\" But the brief effort left him weaker than\nbefore, and he sank back again upon the rotting grasses that, with his\nold ulster, had been the bed of Jane Porter.\n\n\"Don\'t worry about Thuran,\" said Tarzan of the Apes, laying a\nreassuring hand on Clayton\'s forehead. \"He belongs to me, and I shall\nget him in the end, never fear.\"\n\nFor a long time Clayton lay very still. Several times Tarzan had to\nput his ear quite close to the sunken chest to catch the faint beating\nof the worn-out heart. Toward evening he aroused again for a brief\nmoment.\n\n\"Jane,\" he whispered. The girl bent her head closer to catch the faint\nmessage. \"I have wronged you--and him,\" he nodded weakly toward the\nape-man. \"I loved you so--it is a poor excuse to offer for injuring\nyou; but I could not bear to think of giving you up. I do not ask your\nforgiveness. I only wish to do now the thing I should have done over a\nyear ago.\" He fumbled in the pocket of the ulster beneath him for\nsomething that he had discovered there while he lay between the\nparoxysms of fever. Presently he found it--a crumpled bit of yellow\npaper. He handed it to the girl, and as she took it his arm fell\nlimply across his chest, his head dropped back, and with a little gasp\nhe stiffened and was still. Then Tarzan of the Apes drew a fold of the\nulster across the upturned face.\n\nFor a moment they remained kneeling there, the girl\'s lips moving in\nsilent prayer, and as they rose and stood on either side of the now\npeaceful form, tears came to the ape-man\'s eyes, for through the\nanguish that his own heart had suffered he had learned compassion for\nthe suffering of others.\n\nThrough her own tears the girl read the message upon the bit of faded\nyellow paper, and as she read her eyes went very wide. Twice she read\nthose startling words before she could fully comprehend their meaning.\n\n\nFinger prints prove you Greystoke. Congratulations.\n\n D\'ARNOT.\n\n\nShe handed the paper to Tarzan. \"And he has known it all this time,\"\nshe said, \"and did not tell you?\"\n\n\"I knew it first, Jane,\" replied the man. \"I did not know that he knew\nit at all. I must have dropped this message that night in the waiting\nroom. It was there that I received it.\"\n\n\"And afterward you told us that your mother was a she-ape, and that you\nhad never known your father?\" she asked incredulously.\n\n\"The title and the estates meant nothing to me without you, dear,\" he\nreplied. \"And if I had taken them away from him I should have been\nrobbing the woman I love--don\'t you understand, Jane?\" It was as\nthough he attempted to excuse a fault.\n\nShe extended her arms toward him across the body of the dead man, and\ntook his hands in hers.\n\n\"And I would have thrown away a love like that!\" she said.\n\n\n\n\nChapter 26\n\nThe Passing of the Ape-Man\n\n\nThe next morning they set out upon the short journey to Tarzan\'s cabin.\nFour Waziri bore the body of the dead Englishman. It had been the\nape-man\'s suggestion that Clayton be buried beside the former Lord\nGreystoke near the edge of the jungle against the cabin that the older\nman had built.\n\nJane Porter was glad that it was to be so, and in her heart of hearts\nshe wondered at the marvelous fineness of character of this wondrous\nman, who, though raised by brutes and among brutes, had the true\nchivalry and tenderness which only associates with the refinements of\nthe highest civilization.\n\nThey had proceeded some three miles of the five that had separated them\nfrom Tarzan\'s own beach when the Waziri who were ahead stopped\nsuddenly, pointing in amazement at a strange figure approaching them\nalong the beach. It was a man with a shiny silk hat, who walked slowly\nwith bent head, and hands clasped behind him underneath the tails of\nhis long, black coat.\n\nAt sight of him Jane Porter uttered a little cry of surprise and joy,\nand ran quickly ahead to meet him. At the sound of her voice the old\nman looked up, and when he saw who it was confronting him he, too,\ncried out in relief and happiness. As Professor Archimedes Q. Porter\nfolded his daughter in his arms tears streamed down his seamed old\nface, and it was several minutes before he could control himself\nsufficiently to speak.\n\nWhen a moment later he recognized Tarzan it was with difficulty that\nthey could convince him that his sorrow had not unbalanced his mind,\nfor with the other members of the party he had been so thoroughly\nconvinced that the ape-man was dead it was a problem to reconcile the\nconviction with the very lifelike appearance of Jane\'s \"forest god.\"\nThe old man was deeply touched at the news of Clayton\'s death.\n\n\"I cannot understand it,\" he said. \"Monsieur Thuran assured us that\nClayton passed away many days ago.\"\n\n\"Thuran is with you?\" asked Tarzan.\n\n\"Yes; he but recently found us and led us to your cabin. We were\ncamped but a short distance north of it. Bless me, but he will be\ndelighted to see you both.\"\n\n\"And surprised,\" commented Tarzan.\n\nA short time later the strange party came to the clearing in which\nstood the ape-man\'s cabin. It was filled with people coming and going,\nand almost the first whom Tarzan saw was D\'Arnot.\n\n\"Paul!\" he cried. \"In the name of sanity what are you doing here? Or\nare we all insane?\"\n\nIt was quickly explained, however, as were many other seemingly strange\nthings. D\'Arnot\'s ship had been cruising along the coast, on patrol\nduty, when at the lieutenant\'s suggestion they had anchored off the\nlittle landlocked harbor to have another look at the cabin and the\njungle in which many of the officers and men had taken part in exciting\nadventures two years before. On landing they had found Lord\nTennington\'s party, and arrangements were being made to take them all\non board the following morning, and carry them back to civilization.\n\nHazel Strong and her mother, Esmeralda, and Mr. Samuel T. Philander\nwere almost overcome by happiness at Jane Porter\'s safe return. Her\nescape seemed to them little short of miraculous, and it was the\nconsensus of opinion that it could have been achieved by no other man\nthan Tarzan of the Apes. They loaded the uncomfortable ape-man with\neulogies and attentions until he wished himself back in the\namphitheater of the apes.\n\nAll were interested in his savage Waziri, and many were the gifts the\nblack men received from these friends of their king, but when they\nlearned that he might sail away from them upon the great canoe that lay\nat anchor a mile off shore they became very sad.\n\nAs yet the newcomers had seen nothing of Lord Tennington and Monsieur\nThuran. They had gone out for fresh meat early in the day, and had not\nyet returned.\n\n\"How surprised this man, whose name you say is Rokoff, will be to see\nyou,\" said Jane Porter to Tarzan.\n\n\"His surprise will be short-lived,\" replied the ape-man grimly, and\nthere was that in his tone that made her look up into his face in\nalarm. What she read there evidently confirmed her fears, for she put\nher hand upon his arm, and pleaded with him to leave the Russian to the\nlaws of France.\n\n\"In the heart of the jungle, dear,\" she said, \"with no other form of\nright or justice to appeal to other than your own mighty muscles, you\nwould be warranted in executing upon this man the sentence he deserves;\nbut with the strong arm of a civilized government at your disposal it\nwould be murder to kill him now. Even your friends would have to\nsubmit to your arrest, or if you resisted it would plunge us all into\nmisery and unhappiness again. I cannot bear to lose you again, my\nTarzan. Promise me that you will but turn him over to Captain\nDufranne, and let the law take its course--the beast is not worth\nrisking our happiness for.\"\n\nHe saw the wisdom of her appeal, and promised. A half hour later\nRokoff and Tennington emerged from the jungle. They were walking side\nby side. Tennington was the first to note the presence of strangers in\nthe camp. He saw the black warriors palavering with the sailors from\nthe cruiser, and then he saw a lithe, brown giant talking with\nLieutenant D\'Arnot and Captain Dufranne.\n\n\"Who is that, I wonder,\" said Tennington to Rokoff, and as the Russian\nraised his eyes and met those of the ape-man full upon him, he\nstaggered and went white.\n\n\"SAPRISTI!\" he cried, and before Tennington realized what he intended\nhe had thrown his gun to his shoulder, and aiming point-blank at Tarzan\npulled the trigger. But the Englishman was close to him--so close that\nhis hand reached the leveled barrel a fraction of a second before the\nhammer fell upon the cartridge, and the bullet that was intended for\nTarzan\'s heart whirred harmlessly above his head.\n\nBefore the Russian could fire again the ape-man was upon him and had\nwrested the firearm from his grasp. Captain Dufranne, Lieutenant\nD\'Arnot, and a dozen sailors had rushed up at the sound of the shot,\nand now Tarzan turned the Russian over to them without a word. He had\nexplained the matter to the French commander before Rokoff arrived, and\nthe officer gave immediate orders to place the Russian in irons and\nconfine him on board the cruiser.\n\nJust before the guard escorted the prisoner into the small boat that\nwas to transport him to his temporary prison Tarzan asked permission to\nsearch him, and to his delight found the stolen papers concealed upon\nhis person.\n\nThe shot had brought Jane Porter and the others from the cabin, and a\nmoment after the excitement had died down she greeted the surprised\nLord Tennington. Tarzan joined them after he had taken the papers from\nRokoff, and, as he approached, Jane Porter introduced him to Tennington.\n\n\"John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, my lord,\" she said.\n\nThe Englishman looked his astonishment in spite of his most herculean\nefforts to appear courteous, and it required many repetitions of the\nstrange story of the ape-man as told by himself, Jane Porter, and\nLieutenant D\'Arnot to convince Lord Tennington that they were not all\nquite mad.\n\nAt sunset they buried William Cecil Clayton beside the jungle graves of\nhis uncle and his aunt, the former Lord and Lady Greystoke. And it was\nat Tarzan\'s request that three volleys were fired over the last resting\nplace of \"a brave man, who met his death bravely.\"\n\nProfessor Porter, who in his younger days had been ordained a minister,\nconducted the simple services for the dead. About the grave, with\nbowed heads, stood as strange a company of mourners as the sun ever\nlooked down upon. There were French officers and sailors, two English\nlords, Americans, and a score of savage African braves.\n\nFollowing the funeral Tarzan asked Captain Dufranne to delay the\nsailing of the cruiser a couple of days while he went inland a few\nmiles to fetch his \"belongings,\" and the officer gladly granted the\nfavor.\n\nLate the next afternoon Tarzan and his Waziri returned with the first\nload of \"belongings,\" and when the party saw the ancient ingots of\nvirgin gold they swarmed upon the ape-man with a thousand questions;\nbut he was smilingly obdurate to their appeals--he declined to give\nthem the slightest clew as to the source of his immense treasure.\n\"There are a thousand that I left behind,\" he explained, \"for every one\nthat I brought away, and when these are spent I may wish to return for\nmore.\"\n\nThe next day he returned to camp with the balance of his ingots, and\nwhen they were stored on board the cruiser Captain Dufranne said he\nfelt like the commander of an old-time Spanish galleon returning from\nthe treasure cities of the Aztecs. \"I don\'t know what minute my crew\nwill cut my throat, and take over the ship,\" he added.\n\nThe next morning, as they were preparing to embark upon the cruiser,\nTarzan ventured a suggestion to Jane Porter.\n\n\"Wild beasts are supposed to be devoid of sentiment,\" he said, \"but\nnevertheless I should like to be married in the cabin where I was born,\nbeside the graves of my mother and my father, and surrounded by the\nsavage jungle that always has been my home.\"\n\n\"Would it be quite regular, dear?\" she asked. \"For if it would I know\nof no other place in which I should rather be married to my forest god\nthan beneath the shade of his primeval forest.\"\n\nAnd when they spoke of it to the others they were assured that it would\nbe quite regular, and a most splendid termination of a remarkable\nromance. So the entire party assembled within the little cabin and\nabout the door to witness the second ceremony that Professor Porter was\nto solemnize within three days.\n\nD\'Arnot was to be best man, and Hazel Strong bridesmaid, until\nTennington upset all the arrangements by another of his marvelous\n\"ideas.\"\n\n\"If Mrs. Strong is agreeable,\" he said, taking the bridesmaid\'s hand in\nhis, \"Hazel and I think it would be ripping to make it a double\nwedding.\"\n\nThe next day they sailed, and as the cruiser steamed slowly out to sea\na tall man, immaculate in white flannel, and a graceful girl leaned\nagainst her rail to watch the receding shore line upon which danced\ntwenty naked, black warriors of the Waziri, waving their war spears\nabove their savage heads, and shouting farewells to their departing\nking.\n\n\"I should hate to think that I am looking upon the jungle for the last\ntime, dear,\" he said, \"were it not that I know that I am going to a new\nworld of happiness with you forever,\" and, bending down, Tarzan of the\nApes kissed his mate upon her lips.'"