The Jewel-Room of Opar
For some time Tarzan lay where he had fallen upon the floor of the
treasure chamber beneath the ruined walls of Opar. He lay as one dead;
but he was not dead. At length he stirred. His eyes opened upon the
utter darkness of the room. He raised his hand to his head and brought
it away sticky with clotted blood. He sniffed at his fingers, as a wild
beast might sniff at the life-blood upon a wounded paw.
Slowly he rose to a sitting posture—listening. No sound reached to the
buried depths of his sepulcher. He staggered to his feet, and groped
his way about among the tiers of ingots. What was he? Where was he? His
head ached; but otherwise he felt no ill effects from the blow that had
felled him. The accident he did not recall, nor did he recall aught of
what had led up to it.
He let his hands grope unfamiliarly over his limbs, his torso, and his
head. He felt of the quiver at his back, the knife in his loin cloth.
Something struggled for recognition within his brain. Ah! he had it.
There was something missing. He crawled about upon the floor, feeling
with his hands for the thing that instinct warned him was gone. At last
he found it—the heavy war spear that in past years had formed so
important a feature of his daily life, almost of his very existence, so
inseparably had it been connected with his every action since the
long-gone day that he had wrested his first spear from the body of a
black victim of his savage training.
Tarzan was sure that there was another and more lovely world than that
which was confined to the darkness of the four stone walls surrounding
him. He continued his search and at last found the doorway leading
inward beneath the city and the temple. This he followed, most
incautiously. He came to the stone steps leading upward to the higher
level. He ascended them and continued onward toward the well.
Nothing spurred his hurt memory to a recollection of past familiarity
with his surroundings. He blundered on through the darkness as though
he were traversing an open plain under the brilliance of a noonday sun,
and suddenly there happened that which had to happen under the
circumstances of his rash advance.
He reached the brink of the well, stepped outward into space, lunged
forward, and shot downward into the inky depths below. Still clutching
his spear, he struck the water, and sank beneath its surface, plumbing
the depths.
The fall had not injured him, and when he rose to the surface, he shook
the water from his eyes, and found that he could see. Daylight was
filtering into the well from the orifice far above his head. It
illumined the inner walls faintly. Tarzan gazed about him. On the level
with the surface of the water he saw a large opening in the dark and
slimy wall. He swam to it, and drew himself out upon the wet floor of a
tunnel.
Along this he passed; but now he went warily, for Tarzan of the Apes
was learning. The unexpected pit had taught him care in the traversing
of dark passageways—he needed no second lesson.
For a long distance the passage went straight as an arrow. The floor
was slippery, as though at times the rising waters of the well
overflowed and flooded it. This, in itself, retarded Tarzan’s pace, for
it was with difficulty that he kept his footing.
The foot of a stairway ended the passage. Up this he made his way. It
turned back and forth many times, leading, at last, into a small,
circular chamber, the gloom of which was relieved by a faint light
which found ingress through a tubular shaft several feet in diameter
which rose from the center of the room’s ceiling, upward to a distance
of a hundred feet or more, where it terminated in a stone grating
through which Tarzan could see a blue and sun-lit sky.
Curiosity prompted the ape-man to investigate his surroundings. Several
metal-bound, copper-studded chests constituted the sole furniture of
the round room. Tarzan let his hands run over these. He felt of the
copper studs, he pulled upon the hinges, and at last, by chance, he
raised the cover of one.
An exclamation of delight broke from his lips at sight of the pretty
contents. Gleaming and glistening in the subdued light of the chamber,
lay a great tray full of brilliant stones. Tarzan, reverted to the
primitive by his accident, had no conception of the fabulous value of
his find. To him they were but pretty pebbles. He plunged his hands
into them and let the priceless gems filter through his fingers. He
went to others of the chests, only to find still further stores of
precious stones. Nearly all were cut, and from these he gathered a
handful and filled the pouch which dangled at his side—the uncut stones
he tossed back into the chests.
Unwittingly, the ape-man had stumbled upon the forgotten jewel-room of
Opar. For ages it had lain buried beneath the temple of the Flaming
God, midway of one of the many inky passages which the superstitious
descendants of the ancient Sun Worshipers had either dared not or cared
not to explore.
Tiring at last of this diversion, Tarzan took up his way along the
corridor which led upward from the jewel-room by a steep incline.
Winding and twisting, but always tending upward, the tunnel led him
nearer and nearer to the surface, ending finally in a low-ceiled room,
lighter than any that he had as yet discovered.
Above him an opening in the ceiling at the upper end of a flight of
concrete steps revealed a brilliant sunlit scene. Tarzan viewed the
vine-covered columns in mild wonderment. He puckered his brows in an
attempt to recall some recollection of similar things. He was not sure
of himself. There was a tantalizing suggestion always present in his
mind that something was eluding him—that he should know many things
which he did not know.
His earnest cogitation was rudely interrupted by a thunderous roar from
the opening above him. Following the roar came the cries and screams of
men and women. Tarzan grasped his spear more firmly and ascended the
steps. A strange sight met his eyes as he emerged from the
semi-darkness of the cellar to the brilliant light of the temple.
The creatures he saw before him he recognized for what they were—men
and women, and a huge lion. The men and women were scuttling for the
safety of the exits. The lion stood upon the body of one who had been
less fortunate than the others. He was in the center of the temple.
Directly before Tarzan, a woman stood beside a block of stone. Upon the
top of the stone lay stretched a man, and as the ape-man watched the
scene, he saw the lion glare terribly at the two who remained within
the temple. Another thunderous roar broke from the savage throat, the
woman screamed and swooned across the body of the man stretched
prostrate upon the stone altar before her.
The lion advanced a few steps and crouched. The tip of his sinuous tail
twitched nervously. He was upon the point of charging when his eyes
were attracted toward the ape-man.
Werper, helpless upon the altar, saw the great carnivore preparing to
leap upon him. He saw the sudden change in the beast’s expression as
his eyes wandered to something beyond the altar and out of the
Belgian’s view. He saw the formidable creature rise to a standing
position. A figure darted past Werper. He saw a mighty arm upraised,
and a stout spear shoot forward toward the lion, to bury itself in the
broad chest.
He saw the lion snapping and tearing at the weapon’s shaft, and he saw,
wonder of wonders, the naked giant who had hurled the missile charging
upon the great beast, only a long knife ready to meet those ferocious
fangs and talons.
The lion reared up to meet this new enemy. The beast was growling
frightfully, and then upon the startled ears of the Belgian, broke a
similar savage growl from the lips of the man rushing upon the beast.
By a quick side step, Tarzan eluded the first swinging clutch of the
lion’s paws. Darting to the beast’s side, he leaped upon the tawny
back. His arms encircled the maned neck, his teeth sank deep into the
brute’s flesh. Roaring, leaping, rolling and struggling, the giant cat
attempted to dislodge this savage enemy, and all the while one great,
brown fist was driving a long keen blade repeatedly into the beast’s
side.
During the battle, La regained consciousness. Spellbound, she stood
above her victim watching the spectacle. It seemed incredible that a
human being could best the king of beasts in personal encounter and yet
before her very eyes there was taking place just such an improbability.
At last Tarzan’s knife found the great heart, and with a final,
spasmodic struggle the lion rolled over upon the marble floor, dead.
Leaping to his feet the conqueror placed a foot upon the carcass of his
kill, raised his face toward the heavens, and gave voice to so hideous
a cry that both La and Werper trembled as it reverberated through the
temple.
Then the ape-man turned, and Werper recognized him as the man he had
left for dead in the treasure room.