“YOU MUST SACRIFICE HIM”
WARILY CADJ and his hundred frightful followers, armed with their
bludgeons and knives, crept stealthily down the face of the barrier into
the valley below, upon the trail of the white man and his black
companions. They made no haste, for they had noted from the summit of
Opar’s outer wall, that the party they were pursuing moved very slowly,
though why, they did not know, for they had been at too great a distance
to see the burden that each of the blacks carried. Nor was it Cadj’s
desire to overtake his quarry by daylight, his plans contemplating a
stealthy night attack, the suddenness of which, together with the great
number of his followers, might easily confuse and overwhelm a sleeping
camp.
The spoor they followed was well marked. There could be no mistaking it,
and they moved slowly down the now gentle declivity, toward the bottom
of the valley. It was close to noon that they were brought to a sudden
halt by the discovery of a thorn boma recently constructed in a small
clearing just ahead of them. From the center of the boma arose the thin
smoke of a dying fire. Here, then, was the camp of the ape-man.
Cadj drew his followers into the concealment of the thick bushes that
bordered the trail, and from there he sent ahead a single man to
reconnoiter. It was but a few moments later that the latter returned to
say that the camp was deserted, and once again Cadj moved forward with
his men. Entering the boma they examined it in an effort to estimate the
size of the party that accompanied Tarzan. As they were thus occupied
Cadj saw something lying half concealed by bushes at the far end of the
boma. Very warily he approached it, for there was that about it which
not only aroused his curiosity but prompted him to caution, for it
resembled indistinctly the figure of a man, lying huddled upon the
ground.
With ready bludgeons a dozen of them approached the thing that had
aroused Cadj’s curiosity, and when they had come close to it they saw
lying before them the lifeless figure of Tarzan of the Apes.
“The Flaming God has reached forth to avenge his desecrated altar,”
cried the High Priest, his eyes glowing with the maniacal fires of
fanaticism. But another priest, more practical, perhaps, or at least
more cautious, kneeled beside the figure of the ape-man and placed his
ear against the latter’s heart.
“He is not dead,” he whispered; “perhaps he only sleeps.”
“Seize him, then, quickly,” cried Cadj, and an instant later Tarzan’s
body was covered by the hairy forms of as many of the frightful men as
could pile upon him. He offered no resistance—he did not even open his
eyes, and presently his arms were securely bound behind him.
“Drag him forth where the eye of the Flaming God may rest upon him,”
cried Cadj. They dragged Tarzan out into the center of the boma into the
full light of the sun, and Cadj, the High Priest, drawing his knife from
his loin cloth, raised it above his head and stood over the prostrate
form of his intended victim. Cadj’s followers formed a rough circle
about the ape-man and some of them pressed close behind their leader.
They appeared uneasy, looking alternately at Tarzan and their High
Priest, and then casting furtive glances at the sun, riding high in a
cloud-mottled sky. But whatever the thoughts that troubled their
half-savage brains, there was only one who dared voice his, and he was
the same priest who, upon the preceding day, had questioned Cadj’s
proposal to slay the ape-man.
“Cadj,” he said now, “who are you to offer up a sacrifice to the Flaming
God? It is the privilege alone of La, our High Priestess and our queen,
and indeed will she be angry when she learns what you have done.”
“Silence, Dooth!” cried Cadj; “I, Cadj, am the High Priest of Opar. I,
Cadj, am the mate of La, the queen. My word, too, is law in Opar. And
you would remain a priest, and you would remain alive, keep silence.”
“Your word is not law,” replied Booth, angrily, “and if you anger La,
the High Priestess, or if you anger the Flaming God, you may be punished
as another. If you make this sacrifice both will be angry.”
“Enough,” cried Cadj; “the Flaming God has spoken to me and has demanded
that I offer up as sacrifice this defiler of his temple.”
He knelt beside the ape-man and touched his breast above the heart with
the point of his sharp blade, and then he raised the weapon high above
him, preparatory to the fatal plunge into the living heart. At that
instant a cloud passed before the face of the sun and a shadow rested
upon them. A murmur rose from the surrounding priests.
“Look,” cried Dooth, “the Flaming God is angry. He has hidden his face
from the people of Opar.”
Cadj paused. He cast a half-defiant, half-frightened look at the cloud
obscuring the face or the sun. Then he rose slowly to his feet, and
extending his arms upward toward the hidden god of day, he remained for
a moment silent in apparently attentive and listening attitude. Then,
suddenly, he turned upon his followers.
“Priests of Opar,” he cried, “the Flaming God has spoken to his High
Priest, Cadj. He is not angered. He but wishes to speak to me alone, and
he directs that you go away into the jungle and wait until he has come
and spoken to Cadj, after which I shall call you to return. Go!”
For the most part they seemed to accept the word of Cadj as law, but
Dooth and a few others, doubtless prompted by a certain skepticism,
hesitated.
“Be gone!” commanded Cadj. And so powerful is the habit of obedience
that the doubters finally turned away and melted into the jungle with
the others. A crafty smile lighted the cruel face of the High Priest as
the last of them disappeared from sight, and then he once again turned
his attention to the ape-man. That, deep within his breast however,
lurked an inherent fear of his deity, was evidenced by the fact that he
turned questioning glances toward the sky. He had determined to slay the
ape-man while Dooth and the others were absent, yet the fear of his god
restrained his hand until the light of his deity should shine forth upon
him once more and assure him that the thing he contemplated might meet
with favor.
It was a large cloud that overcast the sun, and while Cadj waited his
nervousness increased. Six times he raised his knife for the fatal blow,
yet in each instance his superstition prevented the consummation of the
act. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed, and still the sun remained
obscured. But now at last Cadj could see that it was nearing the edge of
the cloud, and once again he took his position kneeling beside the
ape-man with his blade ready for the moment that the sunlight should
flood again, for the last time, the living Tarzan. He saw it sweeping
slowly across the boma toward him, and as it came a look of demoniacal
hatred shone in his close-set, wicked eyes. Another instant and the
Flaming God would have set the seal of his approval upon the sacrifice.
Cadj trembled in anticipation. He raised the knife a trifle higher, his
muscles tensed for the downward plunge, and then the silence of the
jungle was broken by a woman’s voice, raised almost to a scream.
“Cadj!” came the single word, but with all the suddenness and all the
surprising effect of lightning from a clear sky.
His knife still poised on high, the High Priest turned in the direction
of the interruption to see at the clearing’s edge the figure of La, the
High Priestess, and behind her Dooth and a score of the lesser priests.
“What means this, Cadj?” demanded La, angrily, approaching rapidly
toward him across the clearing. Sullenly the High Priest rose.
“The Flaming God demanded the life of this unbeliever,” he cried.
“Speaker of lies,” retorted La, “the Flaming God communicates with men
through the lips of his High Priestess only. Too often already have you
attempted to thwart the will of your queen. Know, then, Cadj, that the
power of life and death which your queen holds is as potent over you as
another. During the long ages that Opar has endured, our legends tell us
that more than one High Priest has been offered upon the altar to the
Flaming God. And it is not unlikely that yet another may go the way of
the presumptuous. Curb, therefore, your vanity and your lust for power,
lest they prove your undoing.”
Cadj sheathed his knife and turned sullenly away, casting a venomous
look at Dooth, to whom he evidently attributed his undoing. That he was
temporarily abashed by the presence of his queen was evident, but to
those who knew Cadj there was little doubt that he still harbored his
intention to despatch the ape-man, and if the opportunity ever presented
itself that he would do so, for Cadj had a strong following among the
people and priests of Opar. There were many who doubted that La would
ever dare to incur the displeasure and anger of so important a portion
of her followers as to cause the death or degradation of their high
priest, who occupied his office by virtue of laws and customs so old
that their origin had been long lost in antiquity.
For years she had found first one excuse and then another to delay the
ceremonies that would unite her in marriage to the High Priest. She had
further aroused the antagonism of her people by palpable proofs of her
infatuation for the ape-man, and even though at last she had been
compelled to mate with Cadj, she had made no effort whatsoever to
conceal her hatred and loathing for the man. How much further she could
go with impunity was a question that often troubled those whose position
in Opar depended upon her favor, and, knowing all these conditions as he
did, it was not strange that Cadj should entertain treasonable thoughts
toward his queen. Leagued with him in his treachery was Oah, a priestess
who aspired to the power and offices of La. If La could be done away
with, then Cadj had the influence to see that Oah became High Priestess.
He also had Oah’s promise to mate with him and permit him to rule as
king, but as yet both were bound by the superstitious fear of their
flaming deity, and because of this fact was the life of La temporarily
made safe. It required, however, but the slightest spark to ignite the
flames of treason that were smoldering about her.
So far, she was well within her rights in forbidding the sacrifice of
Tarzan by the High Priest. But her fate, her very life, perhaps,
depended upon her future treatment of the prisoner. Should she spare
him, should she evidence in any way a return of the great love she had
once almost publicly avowed for him, it was likely that her doom would
be sealed. It was even questionable whether or not she might with
impunity spare his life and set him at liberty.
Cadj and the others watched her closely now as she crossed to the side
of Tarzan. Standing there silently for several moments she looked down
upon him.
“He is already dead?” she asked.
“He was not dead when Cadj sent us away,” volunteered Dooth. “If he is
dead now it is because Cadj killed him while we were away.”
“I did not kill him,” said Cadj. “That remains, as La, our queen, has
told you, for her to do. The eye of the Flaming God looks down upon you,
High Priestess of Opar. The knife is at your hip, the sacrifice lies
before you.”
La ignored the man’s words and turned toward Dooth. “If he still lives,”
she said, “construct a litter and bear him back to Opar.”
Thus, once more, came Tarzan of the Apes into the ancient colonial city
of the Atlantians. The effects of the narcotic that Kraski had
administered to him did not wear off for many hours. It was night when
he opened his eyes, and for a moment he was bewildered by the darkness
and the silence that surrounded him. All that he could scent at first
was that he lay upon a pile of furs and that he was uninjured; for he
felt no pain. Slowly there broke through the fog of his drugged brain
recollection of the last moment before unconsciousness had overcome him,
and presently he realized the trick that had been played upon him. For
how long he had been unconscious and where he then was he could not
imagine. Slowly he arose to his feet, finding that except for a slight
dizziness he was quite himself. Cautiously he felt around in the
darkness, moving with care, a hand outstretched, and always feeling
carefully with his feet for a secure footing. Almost immediately a stone
wall stopped his progress, and this he followed around four sides of
what he soon realized was a small room in which there were but two
openings, a door upon each of the opposite sides. Only his senses of
touch and smell were of value to him here. These told him only at first
that he was imprisoned in a subterranean chamber, but as the effects of
the narcotic diminished, the keenness of the latter returned, and with
its return there was borne in upon Tarzan’s brain an insistent
impression of familiarity in certain fragrant odors that impinged upon
his olfactory organs—a haunting suggestion that he had known them
before under similar circumstances. Presently from above, through earth
and masonry, came the shadow of an uncanny scream—just the faintest
suggestion of it reached the keen ears of the ape-man, but it was
sufficient to flood his mind with vivid recollections, and, by
association of ideas, to fix the identity of the familiar odors about
him. He knew at last that he was in the dark pit beneath Opar.
Above him, in her chamber in the temple, La, the High Priestess, tossed
upon a sleepless couch. She knew all too well the temper of her people
and the treachery of the High Priest, Cadj. She knew the religious
fanaticism which prompted the ofttime maniacal actions of her bestial
and ignorant followers, and she guessed truly that Cadj would inflame
them against her should she fail this time in sacrificing the ape-man to
the Flaming God. And it was the effort to find an escape from her
dilemma that left her sleepless, for it was not in the heart of La to
sacrifice Tarzan of the Apes. High Priestess of a horrid cult, though
she was, and queen of a race of half-beasts, yet she was a woman, too, a
woman who had loved but once and given that love to the godlike ape-man
who was again within her power. Twice before had he escaped her
sacrificial knife; in the final instance love had at last triumphed over
jealousy and fanaticism, and La, the woman, had realized that never
again could she place in jeopardy the life of the man she loved, however
hopeless she knew that love to be.
Tonight she was faced with a problem that she felt almost beyond her
powers of solution. The fact that she was mated with Cadj removed the
last vestige of hope that she had ever had of becoming the wife of the
ape-man. Yet she was no less determined to save Tarzan if it were
possible. Twice had he saved her life, once from a mad priest, and once
from Tantor in _must_. Then, too, she had given her word that when
Tarzan came again to Opar he came in friendship and would be received in
friendship. But the influence of Cadj was great, and she knew that that
influence had been directed unremittingly against the ape-man—she had
seen it in the attitude of her followers from the very moment that they
had placed Tarzan upon a litter to bear him back to Opar—she had seen
it in the evil glances that had been cast at her. Sooner or later they
would dare denounce her—all that they needed was some slight, new
excuse, that, she knew, they eagerly awaited in her forthcoming attitude
toward Tarzan. It was well after midnight when there came to her one of
the priestesses who remained always upon guard outside her chamber door.
“Dooth would speak with you,” whispered the hand-maiden.
“It is late,” replied La, “and men are not permitted in this part of the
temple. How came he here, and why?”
“He says that he comes in the service of La, who is in great danger,”
replied the girl.
“Fetch him here then,” said La, “and as you value your life see that you
tell no one.”
“I shall be as voiceless as the stones of the altar,” replied the girl,
as she turned and left the chamber.
A moment later she returned, bringing Dooth, who halted a few feet from
the High Priestess and saluted her. La signaled to the girl who had
brought him, to depart, and then she turned questioningly to the man.
“Speak, Dooth!” she commanded.
“We all know,” he said, “of La’s love for the strange ape-man, and it is
not for me, a lesser priest, to question the thoughts or acts of my High
Priestess. It is only for me to serve, as those would do better to serve
who now plot against you.”
“What do you mean, Dooth? Who plots against me?”
“Even at this minute are Cadj and Oah and several of the priests and
priestesses carrying out a plan for your undoing. They are setting spies
to watch you, knowing that you would liberate the ape-man, because there
will come to you one who will tell you that to permit him to escape will
be the easiest solution of your problem. This one will be sent by Cadj,
and then those who watch you will report to the people and to the
priests that they have seen you lead the sacrifice to liberty. But even
that will avail you nothing, for Cadj and Oah and the others have placed
upon the trail from Opar many men in hiding, who will fall upon the
ape-man and slay him before the Flaming God has descended twice into the
western forest. In but one way only may you save yourself, La of Opar.”
“And what is that way?” she asked.
“You must, with your own hands, upon the altar of our temple, sacrifice
the ape-man to the Flaming God.”