A new day had dawned, and Africa greeted the age old miracle of Kudu
emerging from his lair behind the eastern hills and smiled. With the
exception of a few stragglers the creatures of the night had vanished,
surrendering the world to their diurnal fellows.
Tongani, the baboon, perched upon his sentinel rock, surveyed the scene
and, perhaps, not without appreciation of the beauties; for who are we
to say that God touched so many countless of his works with beauty yet
gave to but one of these the power of appreciation?
Below the sentinel fed the tribe of Zugash, the king; fierce tongani
shes with their balus clinging to their backs, if very young, while
others played about, imitating their elders in their constant search
for food; surly, vicious bulls; old Zugash himself, the surliest and
most vicious.
The keen, close-set eyes of the sentinel, constantly upon the alert
down wind, perceived something moving among the little hills below. It
was the top of a man's head. Presently the whole head came into view;
and then the sentinel saw that it belonged to a tarmangani; but as
yet he sounded no alarm, for the tarmangani was still a long way off
and might not be coming in the direction of the tribe. The sentinel
would watch yet a little longer and make sure, for it was senseless to
interrupt the feeding of the tribe if no danger threatened.
Now the tarmangani was in full view. Tongani wished that he might have
the evidence of his keen nose as well as his eyes; then there would be
no doubt, for, like many animals, the tonganis preferred to submit all
evidence to their sensitive nostrils before accepting the verdict of
their eyes; but the wind was in the wrong direction.
Perhaps, too, Tongani was puzzled, for this was such a tarmangani as
he had never before seen--a tarmangani who walked almost as naked as
Tongani himself. But for the white skin he might have thought him a
gomangani. This being a tarmangani, the sentinel looked for the feared
thunder stick; and because he saw none he waited before giving the
alarm. But presently he saw that the creature was coming directly
toward the tribe.
The tarmangani had long been aware of the presence of the baboons,
being down wind from them where their strong scent was borne to his
keen nostrils. Also, he had seen the sentinel at almost the same
instant that the sentinel had seen him; yet he continued upward,
swinging along in easy strides that suggested the power and savage
independence of Numa, the lion.
Suddenly Tongani, the baboon, sprang to his feet, uttering a sharp
bark, and instantly the tribe awoke to action, swarming up the low
cliffs at the foot of which they had been feeding. Here they turned and
faced the intruder, barking their defiance as they ran excitedly to and
fro.
When they saw that the creature was alone and bore no thunder stick
they were more angry than frightened, and they scolded at this
interruption of their feeding. Zugash and several of the other larger
bulls even clambered part way down the cliff to frighten him away; but
in this they only succeeded in increasing their own anger, for the
tarmangani continued upward toward them.
Zugash, the king, was now beside himself with rage. He stormed and
threatened. "Go away!" he barked. "I am Zugash. I kill!"
And now the stranger halted at the foot of the cliff and surveyed
him. "I am Tarzan of the Apes," he said. "Tarzan does not come to the
stamping grounds of the tongani to kill. He comes as a friend."
Silence fell upon the tribe of Zugash; the silence of stunning
surprise. Never before had they heard either tarmangani or gomangani
speak the language of the ape-people. They had never heard of Tarzan
of the Apes, whose country was far to the south; but nevertheless they
were impressed by his ability to understand them and speak to them.
However, he was a stranger, and so Zugash ordered him away again.
"Tarzan does not wish to remain with the tongani," replied the ape-man;
"he desires only to pass them in peace."
"Go away!" growled Zugash. "I kill. I am Zugash."
Tarzan swung up the cliff quite as easily as had the baboons. It was
his answer to Zugash, the king. None was there who better knew the
strength, the courage, the ferocity of the tongani than he, yet he
knew, too, that he might be in this country for some time and that, if
he were to survive, he must establish himself definitely in the minds
of all lesser creatures as one who walked without fear and whom it was
well to let alone.
Barking furiously, the baboons retreated; and Tarzan gained the summit
of the cliff, where he saw that the shes and balus had scattered, many
of them going farther up into the hills, while the adult bulls remained
to contest the way.
As Tarzan paused, just beyond the summit of the cliff, he found himself
the center of a circle of snarling bulls against the combined strength
and ferocity of which he would be helpless. To another than himself
his position might have appeared precarious almost to the point of
hopelessness; but Tarzan knew the wild peoples of his savage world
too well to expect an unprovoked attack, or a killing for the love
of killing such as only man, among all the creatures of the world,
habitually commits. Neither was he unaware of the danger of his
position should a bull, more nervous or suspicious than his fellows,
mistake Tarzan's intentions or misinterpret some trivial act or gesture
as a threat against the safety of the tribe.
But he knew that only an accident might precipitate a charge and that
if he gave them no cause to attack him they would gladly let him
proceed upon his way unmolested. However, he had hoped to achieve
friendly relations with the tongani, whose knowledge of the country and
its inhabitants might prove of inestimable value to him. Better, too,
that the tribe of Zugash be allies than enemies. And so he assayed once
more to win their confidence.
"Tell me, Zugash," he said, addressing the bristling king baboon,
"if there be many tarmangani in your country. Tarzan hunts for a bad
tarmangani who has many gomangani with him. They are bad men. They
kill. With thunder sticks they kill. They will kill the tongani. Tarzan
has come to drive them from your country."
But Zugash only growled and placed the back of his head against the
ground in challenge. The other males moved restlessly sideways, their
shoulders high, their tails bent in crooked curves. Now some of
the younger bulls rested the backs of their heads upon the ground,
imitating the challenge of their king.
Zugash, grimacing at Tarzan, raised then lowered his brows rapidly,
exposing the white skin about his eyes. Thus did the savage old king
seek to turn the heart of his antagonist to water by the frightfulness
of his mien; but Tarzan only shrugged indifferently and moved on again
as though convinced that the baboons would not accept his overtures of
friendship.
Straight toward the challenging bulls that stood in his path he walked,
without haste and apparently without concern; but his eyes were
narrowed and watchful, his every sense on the alert. One bull, stiff
legged and arrogant, moved grudgingly aside; but another stood his
ground. Here, the ape-man knew the real test would come that should
decide the issue.
The two were close now, face to face, when suddenly there burst
from the lips of the man-beast a savage growl, and simultaneously
he charged. With an answering growl and a catlike leap the baboon
bounded aside; and Tarzan passed beyond the rim of the circle, victor
in the game of bluff which is played by every order of living thing
sufficiently advanced in the scale of intelligence to possess an
imagination.
Seeing that the man-thing did not follow upward after the shes and
balus, the bulls contented themselves with barking insults after him
and aiming uncomplimentary gestures at his retreating figure; but such
were not the acts that menaced safety, and the ape-man ignored them.
Purposely he had turned away from the shes and their young, with the
intention of passing around them, rather than precipitate a genuine
attack by seeming to threaten them. And thus his way took him to the
edge of a shallow ravine into which, unknown either to Tarzan or the
tongani, a young mother had fled with her tiny balu.
Tarzan was still in full view of the tribe of Zugash, though he alone
could see into the ravine, when suddenly three things occurred that
shattered the peace that seemed again descending upon the scene. A
vagrant air current wafted upward from the thick verdure below him the
scent of Sheeta, the panther; a baboon voiced a scream of terror; and,
looking down, the ape-man saw the young she, her balu clinging to her
back, fleeing upward toward him with savage Sheeta in pursuit.
As Tarzan, reacting instantly to the necessity of the moment, leaped
downward with back thrown spear hand, the bulls of Zugash raced forward
in answer to the note of terror in the voice of the young mother.
From his position above the actors in this sudden tragedy of the
wilds the ape-man could see the panther over the head of the baboon
and realizing that the beast must reach his victim before succor
could arrive he hurled his spear in the forlorn hope of stopping the
carnivore, if only for a moment.
The cast was one that only a practiced hand might have dared attempt,
for the danger to the baboon was almost as great as that which
threatened the panther should the aim of the ape-man not be perfect.
Zugash and his bulls, bounding forward at an awkward gallop, reached
the edge of the ravine just in time to see the heavy spear hurtle past
the head of the she by a margin of inches only and bury itself in the
breast of Sheeta. Then they were down the slope, a snarling, snapping
pack, and with them went an English viscount, to fall upon a surprised,
pain-maddened panther.
The baboons leaped in to snap at their hereditary foe and leaped out
again, and the man-beast, as quick and agile as they, leaped and struck
with his hunting knife, while the frenzied cat lunged this way and
that, first at one tormentor and then at another.
Twice those powerful, raking talons reached their mark and two bulls
sprawled, torn and bloody, upon the ground; but the bronzed hide of the
ape-man ever eluded the rage of the wounded cat.
Short was the furious battle, ferocious the growls and snarls of
the combatants, prodigious the leaps and bounds of the excited shes
hovering in the background; and then Sheeta, rearing high upon his hind
feet, struck savagely at Tarzan and, in the same instant, plunged to
earth dead, slain by the spear point puncturing his heart.
Instantly the great tarmangani, who had once been king of the great
apes, leaped close and placed a foot upon the carcass of his kill.
He raised his face toward Kudu, the sun; and from his lips broke the
horrid challenge of the bull ape that has killed.
For a moment silence fell upon the forest, the mountain, and jungle.
Awed, the baboons ceased their restless movements and their din. Tarzan
stooped and drew the spear from the quivering body of Sheeta, while the
tongani watched him with a new interest.
Then Zugash approached. This time he did not rest the back of his head
against the ground in challenge. "The bulls of the tribe of Zugash are
the friends of Tarzan of the Apes," he said.
"Tarzan is the friend of the bulls of the tribe of Zugash," responded
the ape-man.
"We have seen a tarmangani," said Zugash. "He has many gomangani. There
are many thunder sticks among them. They are bad. Perhaps it is they
whom Tarzan seeks."
"Perhaps," admitted the slayer of Sheeta. "Where are they?"
"They were camped where the rocks sit upon the mountain side, as here."
He nodded toward the cliff.
"Where?" asked Tarzan again, and this time Zugash motioned along the
foothills toward the south.