Numa “El Adrea”
On the same day that Kadour ben Saden rode south the diligence from the
north brought Tarzan a letter from D’Arnot which had been forwarded
from Sidi-bel-Abbes. It opened the old wound that Tarzan would have
been glad to have forgotten; yet he was not sorry that D’Arnot had
written, for one at least of his subjects could never cease to interest
the ape-man. Here is the letter:
MY DEAR JEAN:
Since last I wrote you I have been across to London on a matter of
business. I was there but three days. The very first day I came upon an
old friend of yours—quite unexpectedly—in Henrietta Street. Now you
never in the world would guess whom. None other than Mr. Samuel T.
Philander. But it is true. I can see your look of incredulity. Nor is
this all. He insisted that I return to the hotel with him, and there I
found the others—Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, Miss Porter, and that
enormous black woman, Miss Porter’s maid—Esmeralda, you will recall.
While I was there Clayton came in. They are to be married soon, or
rather sooner, for I rather suspect that we shall receive announcements
almost any day. On account of his father’s death it is to be a very
quiet affair—only blood relatives.
While I was alone with Mr. Philander the old fellow became rather
confidential. Said Miss Porter had already postponed the wedding on
three different occasions. He confided that it appeared to him that she
was not particularly anxious to marry Clayton at all; but this time it
seems that it is quite likely to go through.
Of course they all asked after you, but I respected your wishes in the
matter of your true origin, and only spoke to them of your present
affairs.
Miss Porter was especially interested in everything I had to say about
you, and asked many questions. I am afraid I took a rather unchivalrous
delight in picturing your desire and resolve to go back eventually to
your native jungle. I was sorry afterward, for it did seem to cause her
real anguish to contemplate the awful dangers to which you wished to
return. “And yet,” she said, “I do not know. There are more unhappy
fates than the grim and terrible jungle presents to Monsieur Tarzan. At
least his conscience will be free from remorse. And there are moments
of quiet and restfulness by day, and vistas of exquisite beauty. You
may find it strange that I should say it, who experienced such
terrifying experiences in that frightful forest, yet at times I long to
return, for I cannot but feel that the happiest moments of my life were
spent there.”
There was an expression of ineffable sadness on her face as she spoke,
and I could not but feel that she knew that I knew her secret, and that
this was her way of transmitting to you a last tender message from a
heart that might still enshrine your memory, though its possessor
belonged to another.
Clayton appeared nervous and ill at ease while you were the subject of
conversation. He wore a worried and harassed expression. Yet he was
very kindly in his expressions of interest in you. I wonder if he
suspects the truth about you?
Tennington came in with Clayton. They are great friends, you know. He
is about to set out upon one of his interminable cruises in that yacht
of his, and was urging the entire party to accompany him. Tried to
inveigle me into it, too. Is thinking of circumnavigating Africa this
time. I told him that his precious toy would take him and some of his
friends to the bottom of the ocean one of these days if he didn’t get
it out of his head that she was a liner or a battleship.
I returned to Paris day before yesterday, and yesterday I met the Count
and Countess de Coude at the races. They inquired after you. De Coude
really seems quite fond of you. Doesn’t appear to harbor the least ill
will. Olga is as beautiful as ever, but a trifle subdued. I imagine
that she learned a lesson through her acquaintance with you that will
serve her in good stead during the balance of her life. It is fortunate
for her, and for De Coude as well, that it was you and not another man
more sophisticated.
Had you really paid court to Olga’s heart I am afraid that there would
have been no hope for either of you.
She asked me to tell you that Nikolas had left France. She paid him
twenty thousand francs to go away, and stay. She is congratulating
herself that she got rid of him before he tried to carry out a threat
he recently made her that he should kill you at the first opportunity.
She said that she should hate to think that her brother’s blood was on
your hands, for she is very fond of you, and made no bones in saying so
before the count. It never for a moment seemed to occur to her that
there might be any possibility of any other outcome of a meeting
between you and Nikolas. The count quite agreed with her in that. He
added that it would take a regiment of Rokoffs to kill you. He has a
most healthy respect for your prowess.
Have been ordered back to my ship. She sails from Havre in two days
under sealed orders. If you will address me in her care, the letters
will find me eventually. I shall write you as soon as another
opportunity presents.
Your sincere friend,
PAUL D’ARNOT.
“I fear,” mused Tarzan, half aloud, “that Olga has thrown away her
twenty thousand francs.”
He read over that part of D’Arnot’s letter several times in which he
had quoted from his conversation with Jane Porter. Tarzan derived a
rather pathetic happiness from it, but it was better than no happiness
at all.
The following three weeks were quite uneventful. On several occasions
Tarzan saw the mysterious Arab, and once again he had been exchanging
words with Lieutenant Gernois; but no amount of espionage or shadowing
by Tarzan revealed the Arab’s lodgings, the location of which Tarzan
was anxious to ascertain.
Gernois, never cordial, had kept more than ever aloof from Tarzan since
the episode in the dining-room of the hotel at Aumale. His attitude on
the few occasions that they had been thrown together had been
distinctly hostile.
That he might keep up the appearance of the character he was playing,
Tarzan spent considerable time hunting in the vicinity of Bou Saada. He
would spend entire days in the foothills, ostensibly searching for
gazelle, but on the few occasions that he came close enough to any of
the beautiful little animals to harm them he invariably allowed them to
escape without so much as taking his rifle from its boot. The ape-man
could see no sport in slaughtering the most harmless and defenseless of
God’s creatures for the mere pleasure of killing.
In fact, Tarzan had never killed for “pleasure,” nor to him was there
pleasure in killing. It was the joy of righteous battle that he
loved—the ecstasy of victory. And the keen and successful hunt for food
in which he pitted his skill and craftiness against the skill and
craftiness of another; but to come out of a town filled with food to
shoot down a soft-eyed, pretty gazelle—ah, that was crueller than the
deliberate and cold-blooded murder of a fellow man. Tarzan would have
none of it, and so he hunted alone that none might discover the sham
that he was practicing.
And once, probably because of the fact that he rode alone, he was like
to have lost his life. He was riding slowly through a little ravine
when a shot sounded close behind him, and a bullet passed through the
cork helmet he wore. Although he turned at once and galloped rapidly to
the top of the ravine, there was no sign of any enemy, nor did he see
aught of another human being until he reached Bou Saada.
“Yes,” he soliloquized, in recalling the occurrence, “Olga has indeed
thrown away her twenty thousand francs.”
That night he was Captain Gerard’s guest at a little dinner.
“Your hunting has not been very fortunate?” questioned the officer.
“No,” replied Tarzan; “the game hereabout is timid, nor do I care
particularly about hunting game birds or antelope. I think I shall move
on farther south, and have a try at some of your Algerian lions.”
“Good!” exclaimed the captain. “We are marching toward Djelfa on the
morrow. You shall have company that far at least. Lieutenant Gernois
and I, with a hundred men, are ordered south to patrol a district in
which the marauders are giving considerable trouble. Possibly we may
have the pleasure of hunting the lion together—what say you?”
Tarzan was more than pleased, nor did he hesitate to say so; but the
captain would have been astonished had he known the real reason of
Tarzan’s pleasure. Gernois was sitting opposite the ape-man. He did not
seem so pleased with his captain’s invitation.
“You will find lion hunting more exciting than gazelle shooting,”
remarked Captain Gerard, “and more dangerous.”
“Even gazelle shooting has its dangers,” replied Tarzan. “Especially
when one goes alone. I found it so today. I also found that while the
gazelle is the most timid of animals, it is not the most cowardly.”
He let his glance rest only casually upon Gernois after he had spoken,
for he did not wish the man to know that he was under suspicion, or
surveillance, no matter what he might think. The effect of his remark
upon him, however, might tend to prove his connection with, or
knowledge of, certain recent happenings. Tarzan saw a dull red creep up
from beneath Gernois’ collar. He was satisfied, and quickly changed the
subject.
When the column rode south from Bou Saada the next morning there were
half a dozen Arabs bringing up the rear.
“They are not attached to the command,” replied Gerard in response to
Tarzan’s query. “They merely accompany us on the road for
companionship.”
Tarzan had learned enough about Arab character since he had been in
Algeria to know that this was no real motive, for the Arab is never
overfond of the companionship of strangers, and especially of French
soldiers. So his suspicions were aroused, and he decided to keep a
sharp eye on the little party that trailed behind the column at a
distance of about a quarter of a mile. But they did not come close
enough even during the halts to enable him to obtain a close scrutiny
of them.
He had long been convinced that there were hired assassins on his
trail, nor was he in great doubt but that Rokoff was at the bottom of
the plot. Whether it was to be revenge for the several occasions in the
past that Tarzan had defeated the Russian’s purposes and humiliated
him, or was in some way connected with his mission in the Gernois
affair, he could not determine. If the latter, and it seemed probable
since the evidence he had had that Gernois suspected him, then he had
two rather powerful enemies to contend with, for there would be many
opportunities in the wilds of Algeria, for which they were bound, to
dispatch a suspected enemy quietly and without attracting suspicion.
After camping at Djelfa for two days the column moved to the southwest,
from whence word had come that the marauders were operating against the
tribes whose _douars_ were situated at the foot of the mountains.
The little band of Arabs who had accompanied them from Bou Saada had
disappeared suddenly the very night that orders had been given to
prepare for the morrow’s march from Djelfa. Tarzan made casual
inquiries among the men, but none could tell him why they had left, or
in what direction they had gone. He did not like the looks of it,
especially in view of the fact that he had seen Gernois in conversation
with one of them some half hour after Captain Gerard had issued his
instructions relative to the new move. Only Gernois and Tarzan knew the
direction of the proposed march. All the soldiers knew was that they
were to be prepared to break camp early the next morning. Tarzan
wondered if Gernois could have revealed their destination to the Arabs.
Late that afternoon they went into camp at a little oasis in which was
the _douar_ of a sheik whose flocks were being stolen, and whose
herdsmen were being killed. The Arabs came out of their goatskin tents,
and surrounded the soldiers, asking many questions in the native
tongue, for the soldiers were themselves natives. Tarzan, who, by this
time, with the assistance of Abdul, had picked up quite a smattering of
Arab, questioned one of the younger men who had accompanied the sheik
while the latter paid his respects to Captain Gerard.
No, he had seen no party of six horsemen riding from the direction of
Djelfa. There were other oases scattered about—possibly they had been
journeying to one of these. Then there were the marauders in the
mountains above—they often rode north to Bou Saada in small parties,
and even as far as Aumale and Bouira. It might indeed have been a few
marauders returning to the band from a pleasure trip to one of these
cities.
Early the next morning Captain Gerard split his command in two, giving
Lieutenant Gernois command of one party, while he headed the other.
They were to scour the mountains upon opposite sides of the plain.
“And with which detachment will Monsieur Tarzan ride?” asked the
captain. “Or maybe it is that monsieur does not care to hunt
marauders?”
“Oh, I shall be delighted to go,” Tarzan hastened to explain. He was
wondering what excuse he could make to accompany Gernois. His
embarrassment was short-lived, and was relieved from a most unexpected
source. It was Gernois himself who spoke.
“If my captain will forego the pleasure of Monsieur Tarzan’s company
for this once, I shall esteem it an honor indeed to have monsieur ride
with me today,” he said, nor was his tone lacking in cordiality. In
fact, Tarzan imagined that he had overdone it a trifle, but, even so,
he was both astounded and pleased, hastening to express his delight at
the arrangement.
And so it was that Lieutenant Gernois and Tarzan rode off side by side
at the head of the little detachment of _spahis_. Gernois’ cordiality
was short-lived. No sooner had they ridden out of sight of Captain
Gerard and his men than he lapsed once more into his accustomed
taciturnity. As they advanced the ground became rougher. Steadily it
ascended toward the mountains, into which they filed through a narrow
cañon close to noon. By the side of a little rivulet Gernois called the
midday halt. Here the men prepared and ate their frugal meal, and
refilled their canteens.
After an hour’s rest they advanced again along the cañon, until they
presently came to a little valley, from which several rocky gorges
diverged. Here they halted, while Gernois minutely examined the
surrounding heights from the center of the depression.
“We shall separate here,” he said, “several riding into each of these
gorges,” and then he commenced to detail his various squads and issue
instructions to the non-commissioned officers who were to command them.
When he had done he turned to Tarzan. “Monsieur will be so good as to
remain here until we return.”
Tarzan demurred, but the officer cut him short. “There may be fighting
for one of these sections,” he said, “and troops cannot be embarrassed
by civilian noncombatants during action.”
“But, my dear lieutenant,” expostulated Tarzan, “I am most ready and
willing to place myself under command of yourself or any of your
sergeants or corporals, and to fight in the ranks as they direct. It is
what I came for.”
“I should be glad to think so,” retorted Gernois, with a sneer he made
no attempt to disguise. Then shortly: “You are under my orders, and
they are that you remain here until we return. Let that end the
matter,” and he turned and spurred away at the head of his men. A
moment later Tarzan found himself alone in the midst of a desolate
mountain fastness.
The sun was hot, so he sought the shelter of a nearby tree, where he
tethered his horse, and sat down upon the ground to smoke. Inwardly he
swore at Gernois for the trick he had played upon him. A mean little
revenge, thought Tarzan, and then suddenly it occurred to him that the
man would not be such a fool as to antagonize him through a trivial
annoyance of so petty a description. There must be something deeper
than this behind it. With the thought he arose and removed his rifle
from its boot. He looked to its loads and saw that the magazine was
full. Then he inspected his revolver. After this preliminary precaution
he scanned the surrounding heights and the mouths of the several
gorges—he was determined that he should not be caught napping.
The sun sank lower and lower, yet there was no sign of returning
SPAHIS. At last the valley was submerged in shadow Tarzan was too proud
to go back to camp until he had given the detachment ample time to
return to the valley, which he thought was to have been their
rendezvous. With the closing in of night he felt safer from attack, for
he was at home in the dark. He knew that none might approach him so
cautiously as to elude those alert and sensitive ears of his; then
there were his eyes, too, for he could see well at night; and his nose,
if they came toward him from up-wind, would apprise him of the approach
of an enemy while they were still a great way off.
So he felt that he was in little danger, and thus lulled to a sense of
security he fell asleep, with his back against the tree.
He must have slept for several hours, for when he was suddenly awakened
by the frightened snorting and plunging of his horse the moon was
shining full upon the little valley, and there, not ten paces before
him, stood the grim cause of the terror of his mount.
Superb, majestic, his graceful tail extended and quivering, and his two
eyes of fire riveted full upon his prey, stood Numa _el adrea_, the
black lion. A little thrill of joy tingled through Tarzan’s nerves. It
was like meeting an old friend after years of separation. For a moment
he sat rigid to enjoy the magnificent spectacle of this lord of the
wilderness.
But now Numa was crouching for the spring. Very slowly Tarzan raised
his gun to his shoulder. He had never killed a large animal with a gun
in all his life—heretofore he had depended upon his spear, his poisoned
arrows, his rope, his knife, or his bare hands. Instinctively he wished
that he had his arrows and his knife—he would have felt surer with
them.
Numa was lying quite flat upon the ground now, presenting only his
head. Tarzan would have preferred to fire a little from one side, for
he knew what terrific damage the lion could do if he lived two minutes,
or even a minute after he was hit. The horse stood trembling in terror
at Tarzan’s back. The ape-man took a cautious step to one side—Numa but
followed him with his eyes. Another step he took, and then another.
Numa had not moved. Now he could aim at a point between the eye and the
ear.
His finger tightened upon the trigger, and as he fired Numa sprang. At
the same instant the terrified horse made a last frantic effort to
escape—the tether parted, and he went careening down the cañon toward
the desert.
No ordinary man could have escaped those frightful claws when Numa
sprang from so short a distance, but Tarzan was no ordinary man. From
earliest childhood his muscles had been trained by the fierce
exigencies of his existence to act with the rapidity of thought. As
quick as was _el adrea_, Tarzan of the Apes was quicker, and so the
great beast crashed against a tree where he had expected to feel the
soft flesh of man, while Tarzan, a couple of paces to the right, pumped
another bullet into him that brought him clawing and roaring to his
side.
Twice more Tarzan fired in quick succession, and then _el adrea_ lay
still and roared no more. It was no longer Monsieur Jean Tarzan; it was
Tarzan of the Apes that put a savage foot upon the body of his savage
kill, and, raising his face to the full moon, lifted his mighty voice
in the weird and terrible challenge of his kind—a bull ape had made his
kill. And the wild things in the wild mountains stopped in their
hunting, and trembled at this new and awful voice, while down in the
desert the children of the wilderness came out of their goatskin tents
and looked toward the mountains, wondering what new and savage scourge
had come to devastate their flocks.
A half mile from the valley in which Tarzan stood, a score of
white-robed figures, bearing long, wicked-looking guns, halted at the
sound, and looked at one another with questioning eyes. But presently,
as it was not repeated, they took up their silent, stealthy way toward
the valley.
Tarzan was now confident that Gernois had no intention of returning for
him, but he could not fathom the object that had prompted the officer
to desert him, yet leave him free to return to camp. His horse gone, he
decided that it would be foolish to remain longer in the mountains, so
he set out toward the desert.
He had scarcely entered the confines of the cañon when the first of the
white-robed figures emerged into the valley upon the opposite side. For
a moment they scanned the little depression from behind sheltering
bowlders, but when they had satisfied themselves that it was empty they
advanced across it. Beneath the tree at one side they came upon the
body of _el adrea_. With muttered exclamations they crowded about it.
Then, a moment later, they hurried down the cañon which Tarzan was
threading a brief distance in advance of them. They moved cautiously
and in silence, taking advantage of shelter, as men do who are stalking
man.