MAD TREACHERY
TO the northwest of the valley of Opar the smoke rose from the cook
fires of a camp in which some hundred blacks and six whites were eating
their evening meal. The negroes squatted sullen and morose, mumbling
together in low tones over their meager fare, the whites, scowling and
apprehensive, kept their firearms close at hand. One of them, a girl,
and the only member of her sex in the party, was addressing her fellows:
“We have Adolph’s stinginess and Esteban’s braggadocio to thank for the
condition in which we are,” she said.
The fat Bluber shrugged his shoulder, the big Spaniard scowled.
“For vy,” asked Adolph, “am I to blame?”
“You were too stingy to employ enough carriers. I told you at the time
that we ought to have had two hundred blacks in our party, but you
wanted to save a little money, and now what is the result? Fifty men
carrying eighty pounds of gold apiece and the other carriers are
overburdened with camp equipment, while there are scarce enough left for
askari to guard us properly. We have to drive them like beasts to make
any progress and to keep them from throwing away their loads, and they
are fagged out and angry. They don’t require much of an excuse to kill
us all on the spot. On top of all this they are underfed. If we could
keep their bellies filled we could probably keep them happy and
reasonably contented, but I have learned enough about natives to know
that if they are hungry they are neither happy nor contented, even in
idleness. If Esteban had not bragged so much about his prowess as a
hunter we should have brought enough provisions to last us through, but
now, though we are barely started upon our return journey, we are upon
less than half rations.”
“I can’t kill game when there isn’t any game,” growled the Spaniard.
“There is plenty of game,” said Kraski, the Russian. “We see the tracks
of it every day.”
The Spaniard eyed him venomously. “If there is so much game,” he said,
“go out and get it yourself.”
“I never claimed to be a hunter,” replied Kraski, “though I could go out
with a sling shot and a pea shooter and do as well as you have.”
The Spaniard leaped to his feet menacingly, and instantly the Russian
covered him with a heavy service revolver.
“Cut that business,” cried the girl, sharply, leaping between them.
“Let the blighters fight,” growled John Peebles. “If one of ’em kills
the hother there’ll be fewer to split the swag, and ’ere we are ’n
that’s that.”
“For vy should ve quarrel?” demanded Bluber. “Dere is enough for
all—over forty-tree t’ousand pounds apiece. Ven you get mad at me you
call me a dirty Jew und say dat I am stingy, but _Mein Gott_! you
Christians are vorser. You vould kill vun of your friends to get more
money. _Oi! Oi!_ tank _Gott_ dat I am not a Christian.”
“Shut up,” growled Throck, “or we’ll have forty-three thousand pounds
more to divide.”
Bluber eyed the big Englishman fearfully. “Come, come, Dick,” he oozed,
in his oiliest tones, “you vouldn’t get mad at a leedle choke vould you,
und me your best friend?”
“I’m sick of all this grousin’,” said Throck. “I h’ain’t no high-brow, I
h’ain’t nothin’ but a pug. But I got sense enough to know that Flora’s
the only one in the bloomin’ bunch whose brains wouldn’t rattle around
in a peanut shell. John, Bluber, Kraski and me, we’re here because we
could raise the money to carry out Flora’s plan. The dago there”—and he
indicated Esteban—“because his face and his figure filled the bill.
There don’t any of us need no brains for this work, and there ain’t any
of us got any more brains than we need. Flora’s the brains of this
outfit, and the sooner everyone understands that and takes orders from
her, the better off we’ll all be. She’s been to Africa with this Lord
Greystoke feller before—you wuz his wife’s maid, wasn’t you, Flora? And
she knows somethin’ about the country and the natives and the animals,
and there don’t none of us know nuttin’.”
“Throck is right,” said Kraski, quickly, “we’ve been muddling long
enough. We haven’t had a boss, and the thing to do is to make Flora boss
from now on. If anyone can get us out of this, she can, and from the way
those fellows over there are acting,” and he nodded toward the blacks,
“we’ll be lucky if we ever get out with our skins, let alone taking any
of the gold with us.”
“_Oil Oi!_ You don’t mean to leave the gold?” almost shrieked Bluber.
“I mean that we do whatever Flora thinks best,” replied Kraski. “If she
says to leave the gold, we’ll leave it.”
“That we do,” seconded Throck.
“I’m for it,” said Peebles. “Whatever Flora says goes.”
The Spaniard nodded his assent sullenly.
“The rest of us are all for it, Bluber. How about you?” asked Kraski.
“O vell—sure—if you say so,” said Bluber, “und as John says ‘und here
ve ain’t und vat’s dat.’”
“And now, Flora,” said Peebles, “you’re the big ’un. What you say goes.
What’ll we do next?”
“Very well,” said the girl; “we shall camp here until these men are
rested, and early tomorrow we’ll start out intelligently and
systematically, and get meat for them. With their help we can do it.
When they are rested and well fed we will start on again for the coast,
moving very slowly, so as not to tire them too much. This is my first
plan, but it all hinges upon our ability to get meat. If we do not find
it I shall bury the gold here, and we will do our best to reach the
coast as quickly as possible. There we shall recruit new porters—twice
as many as we have now—and purchase enough provisions to carry us in
and out again. As we come back in, we will cache provisions at every
camping place for our return trip, thus saving the necessity of carrying
heavy loads all the way in and out again. In this way we can come out
light, with twice as many porters as we actually need. And by working
them in shifts we will travel much faster and there will be no
grumbling. These are my two plans. I am not asking you what you think of
them, because I do not care. You have made me chief, and I am going to
run this from now on as I think best.”
“Bully for you,” roared Peebles; “that’s the kind of talk I likes to
hear.”
“Tell the head man I want to see him, Carl,” said the girl, turning to
Kraski, and a moment later the Russian returned with a burly negro.
“Owaza,” said the girl, as the black halted before her, “we are short of
food and the men are burdened with loads twice as heavy as they should
carry. Tell them that we shall wait here until they are rested and that
tomorrow we shall all go out and hunt for meat. You will send your boys
out under three good men, and they will act as beaters and drive the
game in to us. In this way we should get plenty of meat, and when the
men are rested and well fed we will move on slowly. Where game is
plentiful we will hunt and rest. Tell them that if they do this and we
reach the coast in safety and with all our loads, I shall pay them twice
what they agreed to come for.”
“_Oi! Oi!_” spluttered Bluber, “twice vat dey agreed to come for! Oh,
Flora, vy not offer dem ten per cent? Dot vould be fine interest on
their money.”
“Shut up, you fool,” snapped Kraski, and Bluber subsided, though he
rocked back and forth, shaking his head in disapproval.
The black, who had presented himself for the interview with sullen and
scowling demeanor, brightened visibly now. “I will tell them,” he said,
“and I think that you will have no more trouble.”
“Good,” said Flora, “go and tell them now,” and the black turned and
left.
“There,” said the girl, with a sigh of relief, “I believe that we can
see light ahead at last.”
“Tvice vat ve promised to pay them!” bawled Bluber, “_Oi! Oi!_”
Early the following morning they prepared to set out upon the hunt. The
blacks were now smiling and happy in anticipation of plenty of meat, and
as they tramped off into the jungle they were singing gayly. Flora had
divided them into three parties, each under a head man, with explicit
directions for the position each party was to take in the line of
beaters. Others had been detailed to the whites as gun-bearers, while a
small party of the askari were left behind to guard the camp. The
whites, with the exception of Esteban, were armed with rifles. He alone
seemed inclined to question Flora’s authority, insisting that he
preferred to hunt with spear and arrows in keeping with the part he was
playing. The fact that, though he had hunted assiduously for weeks, yet
had never brought in a single kill, was not sufficient to dampen his
egotism. So genuinely had he entered his part that he really thought he
was Tarzan of the Apes, and with such fidelity had he equipped himself
in every detail, and such a master of the art of make-up was he, that,
in conjunction with his splendid figure and his handsome face that were
almost a counterpart of Tarzan’s, it was scarcely to be wondered at that
he almost fooled himself as successfully as he had fooled others, for
there were men among the carriers who had known the great ape-man, and
even these were deceived, though they wondered at the change in him,
since in little things he did not deport himself as Tarzan, and in the
matter of kills he was disappointing.
Flora Hawkes, who was endowed with more than a fair share of
intelligence, realized that it would not be well to cross any of her
companions unnecessarily, and so she permitted Esteban to hunt that
morning in his own way, though some of the others grumbled a little at
her decision.
“What is the difference?” she asked them, after the Spaniard had set out
alone. “The chances are that he could use a rifle no better than he uses
his spear and arrows. Carl and Dick are really the only shots among us,
and it is upon them we depend principally for the success of our hunt
today. Esteban’s egotism has been so badly bumped that it is possible
that he will go to the last extremity to make a kill today—let us hope
that he is successful.”
“I hope he breaks his fool neck,” said Kraski. “He has served our
purpose and we would be better off if we were rid of him.”
The girl shook her head negatively. “No,” she said, “we must not think
or speak of anything of that kind. We went into this thing together, let
us stick together until the end. If you are wishing that one of us is
dead, how do you know that others are not wishing that you were dead?”
“I haven’t any doubt but that Miranda wishes I were dead,” replied
Kraski. “I never go to bed at night without thinking that the damned
greaser may try to stick a knife into me before morning. And it don’t
make me feel any kinder toward him to hear you defending him, Flora.
You’ve been a bit soft on him from the start.”
“If I have, it’s none of your business,” retorted the girl.
And so they started out upon their hunt, the Russian scowling and angry,
harboring thoughts of vengeance or worse against Esteban, and Esteban,
hunting through the jungle, was occupied with his hatred and his
jealousy. His dark mind was open to every chance suggestion of a means
for putting the other men of the party out of the way, and taking the
woman and the gold for himself. He hated them all; in each he saw a
possible rival for the affections of Flora, and in the death of each he
saw not only one less suitor for the girl’s affections, but forty-three
thousand additional pounds to be divided among fewer people. His mind
was thus occupied to the exclusion of the business of hunting, which
should have occupied him solely, when he came through a patch of heavy
underbrush, and stepped into the glaring sunlight of a large clearing,
face to face with a party of some fifty magnificent ebon warriors. For
just an instant Esteban stood frozen in a paralysis of terror,
forgetting momentarily the part he was playing—thinking of himself only
as a lone white man in the heart of savage Africa facing a large band of
warlike natives—cannibals, perhaps. It was that moment of utter silence
and inaction that saved him, for, as he stood thus before them, the
Waziri saw in the silent, majestic figure their beloved lord in a
characteristic pose.
“O Bwana, Bwana,” cried one of the warriors, rushing forward, “it is
indeed you, Tarzan of the Apes, Lord of the Jungle, whom we had given up
as lost. We, your faithful Waziri, have been searching for you, and even
now we were about to dare the dangers of Opar, fearing that you might
have ventured there without us and had been captured.”
The black, who had at one time accompanied Tarzan to London as a body
servant, spoke broken English, an accomplishment of which he was
inordinately proud, losing no opportunity to air his attainment before
his less fortunate fellows. The fact that it had been he whom fate had
chosen to act as spokesman was indeed a fortunate circumstance to
Miranda. Although the latter had applied himself assiduously to
mastering the dialect of the west coast carriers, he would have been
hard put to it to carry on a conversation with one of them, while he
understood nothing of the Waziri tongue. Flora had schooled him
carefully and well in the lore of Tarzan, so that he realized now that
he was in the presence of a band of the ape-man’s faithful Waziri. Never
before had he seen such magnificent blacks—clean-cut, powerful men,
with intelligent faces and well molded features, appearing as much
higher in the scale of evolution as were the west coast blacks above the
apes. Lucky indeed was Esteban Miranda that he was quick witted and a
consummate actor. Otherwise must he have betrayed his terror and his
chagrin upon learning that this band of Tarzan’s fierce and faithful
followers was in this part of the country. For a moment longer he stood
in silence before them, gathering his wits, and then he spoke, realizing
that his very life depended upon his plausibility. And as he thought a
great light broke upon the shrewd brain of the unscrupulous Spaniard.
“Since I last saw you,” he said, “I discovered that a party of white men
had entered the country for the purpose of robbing the treasure vaults
of Opar. I followed them until I found their camp, and then I came in
search of you, for there are many of them and they have many ingots of
gold, for they have already been to Opar. Follow me, and we will raid
their camp and take the gold from them. Come!” and he turned back toward
the camp that he had just quitted.
As they made their way along the jungle trail, Usula, the Waziri who had
spoken English to him, walked at Esteban’s side. Behind them the
Spaniard could hear the other warriors speaking in their native tongue,
no word of which he understood, and it occurred to him that his position
would be most embarrassing should he be addressed in the Waziri
language, which, of course, Tarzan must have understood perfectly. As he
listened to the chatter of Usula his mind was working rapidly, and
presently, as though it were an inspiration, there recurred to him the
memory of an accident that had befallen Tarzan, which had been narrated
to him by Flora—the story of the injury he had received in the treasure
vaults of Opar upon the occasion that he had lost his memory because of
a blow upon the head. Esteban wondered if he had committed himself too
deeply at first to attribute to amnesia any shortcomings in the
portrayal of the rôle he was acting. At its worst, however, it seemed to
him the best that he could do. He turned suddenly upon Usula.
“Do you remember,” he asked, “the accident that befell me in the
treasure vaults of Opar, depriving me of my memory?”
“Yes, Bwana, I remember it well,” replied the black.
“A similar accident has befallen me,” said Esteban. “A great tree fell
in my path, and in falling a branch struck me upon the head. It has not
caused me to lose my memory entirely, but since then it is with
difficulty that I recall many things, and there are others which I must
have forgotten entirely, for I do not know your name, nor do I
understand the words that my other Waziri are speaking about me.”
Usula looked at him compassionately. “Ah, Bwana, sad indeed is the heart
of Usula to hear that this accident has befallen you. Doubtless it will
soon pass away as did the other, and in the meantime I, Usula, will be
your memory for you.”
“Good,” said Esteban, “tell the others that they may understand, and
tell them also that I have lost the memory of other things besides. I
could not now find my way home without you, and my other senses are dull
as well. But as you say, Usula, it will soon pass off, and I shall be
myself again.”
“Your faithful Waziri will rejoice indeed with the coming of that
moment,” said Usula.
As they approached the camp, Miranda cautioned Usula to warn his
followers to silence, and presently he halted them at the outskirts of
the clearing where they could attain a view of the boma and the tents,
guarding which was a little band of a half-dozen askari.
“When they see our greater numbers they will make no resistance,” said
Esteban. “Let us surround the camp, therefore, and at a signal from me
we will advance together, when you shall address them, saying that
Tarzan of the Apes comes with his Waziri for the gold they have stolen,
but that he will spare them if they will leave the country at once and
never return.”
Had it fulfilled his purpose as well, the Spaniard would have willingly
ordered his Waziri to fall upon the men guarding the camp and destroy
them all, but to his cunning brain had been born a cleverer scheme. He
wanted these men to see him with the Waziri and to live to tell the
others that they had seen him, and to repeat to Flora and her followers
the thing that Esteban had in his mind to tell one of the askari, while
the Waziri were gathering up the gold ingots from the camp.
In directing Usula to station his men about the camp, Esteban had him
warn them that they were not to show themselves until he had crept out
into the clearing and attracted the attention of the askari on guard.
Fifteen minutes, perhaps, were consumed in stationing his men, and then
Usula returned to Esteban to report that all was ready.
“When I raise my hand then you will know that they have recognized me
and that you are to advance,” Esteban cautioned him, and stepped forward
slowly into the clearing. One of the askari saw him and recognized him
as Esteban. The Spaniard took a few steps closer to the boma and then
halted.
“I am Tarzan of the Apes,” he said; “your camp is entirely surrounded by
my warriors. Make no move against us and we shall not hurt you.”
He waved his hand. Fifty stalwart Waziri stepped into view from the
concealing verdure of the surrounding jungle. The askari eyed them in
ill-concealed terror, fingering their rifles nervously.
“Do not shoot,” cautioned Esteban, “or we shall slay you all.” He
approached more closely and his Waziri closed in about him, entirely
surrounding the boma.
“Speak to them, Usula,” said Esteban. The black stepped forward.
“We are the Waziri,” he cried, “and this is Tarzan of the Apes, Lord of
the Jungle, our master. We have come to recover the gold of Tarzan that
you have stolen from the treasure vaults of Opar. This time we shall
spare you on condition that you leave the country and never return. Tell
this word to your masters; tell them that Tarzan watches, and that his
Waziri watch with him. Lay down your rifles.”
The askari, glad to escape so easily, complied with the demands of
Usula, and a moment later the Waziri had entered the boma, and at
Esteban’s direction were gathering up the golden ingots. As they worked,
Esteban approached one of the askari, whom he knew spoke broken English.
“Tell your master,” he said, “to give thanks for the mercy of Tarzan who
has exacted a toll of but one life for this invasion of his country and
theft of his treasure. The creature who presumes to pose as Tarzan I
have slain, and his body I shall take away with me and feed to the
lions. Tell them that Tarzan forgives even their attempt to poison him
upon the occasion that he visited their camp, but only upon the
condition that they never return to Africa, and that they divulge the
secret of Opar to no others. Tarzan watches and his Waziri watch, and no
man may enter Africa without Tarzan’s knowledge. Even before they left
London I knew that they were coming. Tell them that.”
It took but a few minutes for the Waziri to gather up the golden ingots,
and before the askari had recovered from the surprise of their
appearance, they had gone again into the jungle, with Tarzan, their
master.
It was late in the afternoon before Flora and the four white men
returned from their hunt, surrounded by happy, laughing blacks, bearing
the fruits of a successful chase.
“Now that you are in charge, Flora,” Kraski was saying, “fortune is
smiling upon us indeed. We have enough meat here for several days, and
with plenty of meat in their bellies they ought to make good progress.”
“I vill say it myself dot t’ings look brighter,” said Bluber.
“Blime, they do that,” said Throck. “I’m tellin’ yu Flora’s a bright
one.”
“What the devil is this?” demanded Peebles, “what’s wrong with them
beggars.” And he pointed toward the boma which was now in sight, and
from which the askari were issuing at a run, jabbering excitedly as they
raced toward them.
“Tarzan of the Apes has been here,” they cried excitedly. “He has been
here with all his Waziri—a thousand great warriors—and though we
fought, they overcame us, and taking the gold they went away. Tarzan of
the Apes spoke strange words to me before they left. He said that he had
killed one of your number who had dared to call himself Tarzan of the
Apes. We do not understand it. He went away alone to hunt when you went
in the morning, and he came back shortly with a thousand warriors, and
he took all the gold and he threatened to kill us and you if you ever
return to this country again.”
“Vot, vot?” cried Bluber, “der gold iss gone? _Oi! Oi!_” And then they
all commenced to ask questions at once until Flora silenced them.
“Come,” she said to the leader of the askari, “we will return to the
boma and then you shall tell me slowly and carefully all that has
happened since we left.”
She listened intently to his narrative, and then questioned him
carefully upon various points several times. At last she dismissed him.
Then she turned to her confederates.
“It is all clear to me,” she said. “Tarzan recovered from the effects of
the drug we administered. Then he followed us with his Waziri, caught
Esteban and killed him and, finding the camp, has taken the gold away.
We shall be fortunate indeed if we escape from Africa with our lives.”
“_Oi! Oi!_” almost shrieked Bluber, “der dirty crook. He steals all our
gold, und ve lose our two t’ousand pounds into the bargain. _Oi! Oi!_”
“Shut up, you dirty Jew,” growled Throck. “If it hadn’t a’ been for you
and the dago this ’ere thing would never a ’appened. With ’im abraggin’
about ’is ’unting and not bein’ able to kill anything, and you
a-squeezin’ every bloomin’ hapenny, we’re in a rotten mess—that we are.
This ’ere Tarzan bounder he bumped off Esteban, which is the best work
what ’e ever done. Too bloody bad you weren’t ’ere to get it too, and
what I got a good mind to do is to slit your throat meself.”
“Stow the guff, Dick,” roared Peebles; “it wasn’t nobody’s fault, as far
as I can see. Instead of talkin’ what we oughter do is to go after this
’ere Tarzan feller and take the bloomin’ gold away from ’im.”
Flora Hawkes laughed. “We haven’t a chance in the world,” she said. “I
know this Tarzan bloke. If he was all alone we wouldn’t be a match for
him, but he’s got a bunch of his Waziri with him, and there are no finer
warriors in Africa than they. And they’d fight for him to the last man.
You just tell Owaza that you’re thinking of going after Tarzan of the
Apes and his Waziri to take the gold away from them, and see how long
it’d be before we wouldn’t have a single nigger with us. The very name
of Tarzan scares these west coast blacks out of a year’s growth. They
would sooner face the devil. No, sir, we’ve lost, and all we can do is
to get out of the country, and thank our lucky stars if we manage to get
out alive. The ape-man will watch us. I should not be surprised if he
were watching us this minute.” Her companions looked around
apprehensively at this, casting nervous glances toward the jungle. “And
he’d never let us get back to Opar for another load, even if we could
prevail upon our blacks to return there.”
“Two t’ousand pounds, two t’ousand pounds!” wailed Bluber. “Und all dis
suit, vot it cost me tventy guineas vot I can’t vear it again in England
unless I go to a fancy dress ball, vich I never do.”
Kraski had not spoken, but had sat with eyes upon the ground, listening
to the others. Now he raised his head. “We have lost our gold,” he said,
“and before we get back to England we stand to spend the balance of our
two thousand pounds—in other words our expedition is a total loss. The
rest of you may be satisfied to go back broke, but I am not. There are
other things in Africa besides the gold of Opar, and when we leave the
country there is no reason why we shouldn’t take something with us that
will repay us for our time and investment.”
“What do you mean?” asked Peebles.
“I have spent a lot of time talking with Owaza,” replied Kraski, “trying
to learn their crazy language, and I have come to find out a lot about
the old villain. He’s as crooked as they make ’em, and if he were to be
hanged for all his murders, he’d have to have more lives than a cat, but
notwithstanding all that, he’s a shrewd old fellow, and I’ve learned a
lot more from him than just his monkey talk—I have learned enough, in
fact, so that I feel safe in saying that if we stick together we can go
out of Africa with a pretty good sized stake. Personally, I haven’t
given up the gold of Opar yet. What we’ve lost, we’ve lost, but there’s
plenty left where that came from, and some day, after this blows over,
I’m coming back to get my share.”
“But how about this other thing?” asked Flora. “How can Owaza help us?”
“There’s a little bunch of Arabs down here,” explained Kraski, “stealing
slaves and ivory. Owaza knows where they are working and where their
main camp is. There are only a few of them, and their blacks are nearly
all slaves who would turn on them in a minute. Now the idea is this: we
have a big enough party to overpower them and take their ivory away from
them if we can get their slaves to take our side. We don’t want the
slaves; we couldn’t do anything with them if we had them, so we can
promise them their freedom for their help, and give Owaza and his gang a
share in the ivory.”
“How do you know Owaza will help us?” asked Flora.
“The idea is his; that’s the reason I know,” replied Kraski.
“It sounds good to me,” said Peebles; “I ain’t fer goin’ ’ome empty
’anded.” And in turn the others signified their approval of the scheme.