the treasure vaults of Opar a little monkey watched the progress
of the expedition across the valley. He was a very much distraught
little monkey, for in his heart he knew that his master should be
warned of the coming of these many Gomangani and Tarmangani with their
thundersticks; but fear of the forbidding ruins gave him pause, and so
he danced about upon the top of the rock, chattering and scolding. The
warriors of Peter Zveri marched right past and never paid any attention
to him; and as they marched, other eyes were upon them, peering from
out of the foliage of the trees that grew rank among the ruins.
If any member of the party saw a little monkey scampering quickly past
upon their right, or saw him clamber up the ruined outer wall of Opar,
he doubtless gave the matter no thought; for his mind, like the minds
of all his fellows, was occupied by speculation as to what lay within
that gloomy pile.
Kitembo did not know the location of the treasure vaults of Opar.
He had but agreed to guide Zveri to the city, but, like Zveri, he
entertained no doubt but that it would be easy to discover the vaults
if they were unable to wring its location from any of the inhabitants
of the city. Surprised, indeed, would they have been had they known
that no living Oparian knew either of the location of the treasure
vaults or of their existence and that, among all living men, only
Tarzan and some of his Waziri warriors knew their location or how to
reach them.
"The place is nothing but a deserted ruin," said Zveri to one of his
white companions.
"It is an ominous looking place though," replied the other, "and it has
already had its effect upon the men."
Zveri shrugged. "This might frighten them at night, but not in broad
daylight; they are certainly not that yellow."
They were close to the ruined outer wall now, which frowned down upon
them menacingly, and here they halted while several searched for an
opening. Abu Batn was the first to find it--the narrow crevice with
the flight of concrete steps leading upward. "Here is a way through,
Comrade," he called to Zveri.
"Take some of your men with you and reconnoiter," ordered Zveri.
Abu Batn summoned a half dozen of his black men, who advanced with
evident reluctance.
Gathering the skirt of his thôb about him, the sheykh entered the
crevice, and at the same instant a piercing screech broke from the
interior of the ruined city--a long drawn, high pitched shriek that
ended in a series of low moans. The Bedaùwy halted. The blacks froze in
terrified rigidity.
"Go on!" yelled Zveri. "A scream can't kill you!"
"Wullah!" exclaimed one of the Aarabs; "but jân can."
"Get out of there, then!" cried Zveri angrily. "If you damned cowards
are afraid to go, I'll go in myself."
There was no argument. The Aarabs stepped aside. And then a little
monkey, screaming with terror, appeared upon the top of the wall from
the inside of the city. His sudden and noisy appearance brought every
eye to bear upon him. They saw him turn an affrighted glance backward
over his shoulder and then, with a loud scream, leap far out to the
ground below. It scarcely seemed that he could survive the jump, yet it
barely sufficed to interrupt his flight, for he was on his way again in
an instant as, with prodigious leaps and bounds, he fled screaming out
across the barren plains.
It was the last straw. The shaken nerves of the superstitious blacks
gave way to the sudden strain; and almost with one accord they turned
and fled the dismal city, while close upon their heels were Abu Batn
and his desert warriors in swift and undignified retreat.
Peter Zveri and his three white companions, finding themselves suddenly
deserted, looked at one another questioningly. "The dirty cowards!"
exclaimed Zveri angrily. "You go back, Mike, and see if you can rally
them. We are going on in, now that we are here."
Michael Dorsky, only too glad of any assignment that took him farther
away from Opar, started at a brisk run after the fleeing warriors,
while Zveri turned once more into the fissure with Miguel Romero and
Paul Ivitch at his heels.
The three men passed through the outer wall and entered the courtyard,
across which they saw the lofty inner wall rising before them. Romero
was the first to find the opening that led to the city proper and,
calling to his fellows, he stepped boldly into the narrow passage. Then
once again the hideous scream shattered the brooding silence of the
ancient temple.
The three men halted. Zveri wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"I think we have gone as far as we can alone," he said. "Perhaps we
had all better go back and rally the men. There is no sense in doing
anything foolhardy." Miguel Romero threw him a contemptuous sneer, but
Ivitch assured Zveri that the suggestion met with his entire approval.
The two men crossed the court quickly without waiting to see whether
the Mexican followed them or not and were soon once again outside the
city.
"Where is Miguel?" asked Ivitch.
Zveri looked around. "Romero!" he shouted in a loud voice, but there
was no reply.
"It must have got him," said Ivitch with a shudder.
"Small loss," grumbled Zveri.
But whatever the thing was that Ivitch feared, it had not, as yet,
gotten the young Mexican, who, after watching his companions'
precipitate flight, had continued on through the opening in the inner
wall determined to have at least one look at the interior of the
ancient city of Opar that he had travelled so far to see and of the
fabulous wealth of which he had been dreaming for weeks.
Before his eyes spread a magnificent panorama of stately ruins, before
which the young and impressionable Latin-American stood spellbound;
and then once again the eerie wail rose from the interior of a great
building before him, but if he was frightened Romero gave no evidence
of it. Perhaps he grasped his rifle a little more tightly; perhaps he
loosened his revolver in his holster, but he did not retreat. He was
awed by the stately grandeur of the scene before him, where age and
ruin seemed only to enhance its pristine magnificence.
A movement within the temple caught his attention. He saw a figure
emerge from somewhere, the figure of a gnarled and knotted man that
rolled on short crooked legs; and then another and another came until
there were fully a hundred of the savage creatures approaching slowly
toward him. He saw their knotted bludgeons and their knives, and he
realized that here was a menace more effective than an unearthly scream.
With a shrug he backed into the passageway. "I cannot fight an army
single-handed," he muttered. Slowly he crossed the outer court, passed
through the first great wall and stood again upon the plain outside the
city. In the distance he saw the dust of the fleeing expedition and,
with a grin, he started in pursuit, swinging along at an easy walk as
he puffed upon a cigarette. From the top of the rocky hill at his left
a little monkey saw him pass--a little monkey, which still trembled
from fright, but whose terrified screams had become only low, pitiful
moans. It had been a hard day for little Nkima.
So rapid had been the retreat of the expedition that Zveri, with Dorsky
and Ivitch, did not overtake the main party until the greater part of
it was already descending the barrier cliffs; nor could any threats or
promises stay the retreat, which ended only when camp was reached.
Immediately Zveri called Abu Batn, together with Dorsky and Ivitch,
into council. The affair had been Zveri's first reverse, and it was a
serious one inasmuch as he had relied heavily upon the inexhaustible
store of gold to be found in the treasure vaults of Opar. First, he
berated Abu Batn, Kitembo, their ancestors and all their followers for
cowardice; but all that he accomplished was to arouse the anger and
resentment of these two.
"We came with you to fight the white men, not demons and ghosts," said
Kitembo. "I am not afraid. I would go into the city, but my men will
not accompany me and I cannot fight the enemy alone."
"Nor I," said Abu Batn, a sullen scowl still further darkening his
swart countenance.
"I know," sneered Zveri, "you are both brave men, but you are much
better runners than you are fighters. Look at us. We were not afraid.
We went in and we were not harmed."
"Where is Comrade Romero?" demanded Abu Batn.
"Well, perhaps, he is lost," admitted Zveri. "What do you expect? To
win a battle without losing a man?"
"There was no battle," said Kitembo, "and the man who went farthest
into the accursed city did not return."
Dorsky looked up suddenly. "There he is now!" he exclaimed, and as all
eyes turned up the trail toward Opar, they saw Miguel Romero strolling
jauntily into camp.
"Greeting, my brave comrades!" he cried to them. "I am glad to find you
alive. I feared that you might all succumb to heart failure."
Sullen silence greeted his raillery, and no one spoke until he had
approached and seated himself near them.
"What detained you?" demanded Zveri presently.
"I wanted to see what was beyond the inner wall," replied the Mexican.
"And you saw?" asked Abu Batn.
"I saw magnificent buildings in splendid ruin," replied Romero; "a dead
and moldering city of the dead past."
"And what else?" asked Kitembo.
"I saw a company of strange warriors, short heavy men on crooked legs,
with long powerful arms and hairy bodies. They came out of a great
building that might have been a temple. There were too many of them for
me. I could not fight them alone, so I came away."
"Did they have weapons?" asked Zveri.
"Clubs and knives," replied Romero.
"You see," exclaimed Zveri, "just a band of savages armed with clubs.
We could take the city without the loss of a man."
"What did they look like?" demanded Kitembo. "Describe them to me," and
when Romero had done so, with careful attention to details, Kitembo
shook his head. "It is as I thought," he said. "They are not men; they
are demons."
"Men or demons, we are going back there and take their city," said
Zveri angrily. "We must have the gold of Opar."
"You may go, white man," returned Kitembo, "but you will go alone. I
know my men, and I tell you that they will not follow you there. Lead
us against white men, or brown men, or black men, and we will follow
you. But we will not follow you against demons and ghosts."
"And you, Abu Batn?" demanded Zveri.
"I have talked with my men on the return from the city, and they tell
me that they will not go back there. They will not fight the jân and
ghrôl. They heard the voice of the jin warning them away, and they are
afraid."
Zveri stormed and threatened and cajoled, but all to no effect. Neither
the Aarab sheykh nor the African chief could be moved.
"There is still a way," said Romero.
"And what is that?" asked Zveri.
"When the gringo comes and the Philippine, there will be six of us who
are neither Aarabs nor Africans. We six can take Opar." Paul Ivitch
made a wry face, and Zveri cleared his throat.
"If we are killed," said the latter, "our whole plan is wrecked. There
will be no one left to carry on."
Romero shrugged. "It was only a suggestion," he said, "but, of course,
if you are afraid--"
"I am not afraid," stormed Zveri, "but neither am I a fool."
An ill-concealed sneer curved Romero's lips. "I am going to eat," he
said, and, rising, he left them.
* * * * *
The day following his advent into the camp of his fellow conspirators,
Wayne Colt wrote a long message in cipher and dispatched it to the
Coast by one of his boys. From her tent Zora Drinov had seen the
message given to the boy. She had seen him place it in the end of a
forked stick and start off upon his long journey. Shortly after, Colt
joined her in the shade of a great tree beside her tent.
"You sent a message this morning, Comrade Colt," she said.
He looked up at her quickly. "Yes," he replied.
"Perhaps you should know that only Comrade Zveri is permitted to send
messages from the expedition," she told him.
"I did not know," he said. "It was merely in relation to some funds
that were to have been awaiting me when I reached the Coast. They were
not there. I sent the boy back after them."
"Oh," she said, and then their conversation drifted to other topics.
That afternoon he took his rifle and went out to look for game and
Zora went with him, and that evening they had supper together again,
but this time she was the hostess. And so the days passed until an
excited native aroused the camp one day with an announcement that the
expedition was returning. No words were necessary to apprise those who
had been left behind that victory had not perched upon the banner of
their little army. Failure was clearly written upon the faces of the
leaders. Zveri greeted Zora and Colt, introducing the latter to his
companions, and when Tony had been similarly presented the returning
warriors threw themselves down upon cots or upon the ground to rest.
That night, as they gathered around the supper table, each party
narrated the adventures that had befallen them since the expedition had
left camp. Colt and Zora were thrilled by the stories of weird Opar,
but no less mysterious was their tale of the death of Raghunath Jafar
and his burial and uncanny resurrection.
"Not one of the boys would touch the body after that," said Zora. "Tony
and Comrade Colt had to bury him themselves."
"I hope you made a good job of it this time," said Miguel.
"He hasn't come back again," rejoined Colt with a grin.
"Who could have dug him up in the first place?" demanded Zveri.
"None of the boys certainly," said Zora. "They were all too much
frightened by the peculiar circumstances surrounding his death."
"It must have been the same creature that killed him," suggested Colt,
"and whoever or whatever it was must have been possessed of almost
superhuman strength to carry that heavy corpse into a tree and drop it
upon us."
"The most uncanny feature of it to me," said Zora, "is the fact that it
was accomplished in absolute silence. I'll swear that not even a leaf
rustled until just before the body hurtled down upon our table."
"It could have been only a man," said Zveri.
"Unquestionably," said Colt, "but what a man!"
As the company broke up later, repairing to their various tents, Zveri
detained Zora with a gesture. "I want to talk to you a minute, Zora,"
he said, and the girl sank back into the chair she had just quitted.
"What do you think of this American? You have had a good opportunity to
size him up."
"He seems to be all right. He is a very likeable fellow," replied the
girl.
"He said or did nothing, then, that might arouse your suspicion?"
demanded Zveri.
"No," said Zora, "nothing at all."
"You two have been alone here together for a number of days," continued
Zveri. "Did he treat you with perfect respect?"
"He was certainly much more respectful than your friend, Raghunath
Jafar."
"Don't mention that dog to me," said Zveri. "I wish that I had been
here to kill him myself."
"I told him that you would when you got back, but some one beat you to
it."
They were silent for several moments. It was evident that Zveri was
trying to frame into words something that was upon his mind. At last he
spoke. "Colt is a very prepossessing young man. See that you don't fall
in love with him, Zora."
"And why not?" she demanded. "I have given my mind and my strength and
my talent to the cause and, perhaps, most of my heart. But there is a
corner of it that is mine to do with as I wish."
"You mean to say that you are in love with him?" demanded Zveri.
"Certainly not. Nothing of the kind. Such an idea had not entered my
head. I just want you to know, Peter, that in matters of this kind you
may not dictate to me."
"Listen, Zora. You know perfectly well that I love you, and what is
more, I am going to have you. I get what I go after."
"Don't bore me, Peter. I have no time for anything so foolish as love
now. When we are well through with this undertaking, perhaps I shall
take the time to give it a little thought."
"I want you to give it a lot of thought right now, Zora," he insisted.
"There are some details in relation to this expedition that I have not
told you. I have not divulged them to any one, but I am going to tell
you now because I love you and you are going to become my wife. There
is more at stake in this for us than you dream. After all the thought
and all the risks and all the hardships, I do not intend to surrender
all of the power and the wealth that I shall have gained to any one."
"You mean not even to the cause?" she asked.
"I mean not even to the cause, except that I shall use them both for
the cause."
"Then what do you intend? I do not understand you," she said.
"I intend to make myself Emperor of Africa," he declared, "and I intend
to make you my empress."
"Peter!" she cried. "Are you crazy?"
"Yes, I am crazy for power, for riches, and for you."
"You can never do it, Peter. You know how far-reaching are the
tentacles of the power we serve. If you fail it, if you turn traitor,
those tentacles will reach you and drag you down to destruction."
"When I win my goal, my power will be as great as theirs, and then I
may defy them."
"But how about these others with us, who are serving loyally the cause
which they think you represent? They will tear you to pieces, Peter."
The man laughed. "You do not know them, Zora. They are all alike. All
men and women are alike. If I offered to make them Grand Dukes and give
them each a palace and a harem, they would slit their own mothers'
throats to obtain such a prize."
The girl arose. "I am astounded, Peter. I thought that you, at least,
were sincere."
He arose quickly and grasped her by the arm. "Listen, Zora," he hissed
in her ear, "I love you, and because I love you I have put my life in
your hands. But understand this, if you betray me, no matter how well I
love you, I shall kill you. Do not forget that."
"You did not have to tell me that, Peter. I was perfectly well aware of
it."
"And you will not betray me?" he demanded.
"I never betray a friend, Peter," she said.
The next morning Zveri was engaged in working out the details of a
second expedition to Opar based upon Romero's suggestions. It was
decided that this time they would call for volunteers; and as the
Europeans, the two Americans and the Filipino had already indicated
their willingness to take part in the adventure, it remained now only
to seek to enlist the services of some of the blacks and Aarabs, and
for this purpose Zveri summoned the entire company to a palaver. Here
he explained just what they purposed doing. He stressed the fact that
Comrade Romero had seen the inhabitants of the city and that they were
only members of a race of stunted savages, armed only with sticks.
Eloquently he explained how easily they might be overcome with rifles.
Practically the entire party was willing to go as far as the walls of
Opar; but there were only ten warriors who would agree to enter the
city with the white men, and all of these were from the askaris who
had been left behind to guard camp and from those who had accompanied
Colt from the Coast, none of whom had been subjected to the terrors of
Opar. Not one of those who had heard the weird screams issuing from
the ruins would agree to enter the city, and it was admitted among
the whites that it was not at all unlikely that their ten volunteers
might suddenly develop a change of heart when at last they stood before
the frowning portals of Opar and heard the weird warning cry from its
defenders.
Several days were spent in making careful preparations for the new
expedition, but at last the final detail was completed; and early one
morning Zveri and his followers set out once more upon the trail to
Opar.
Zora Drinov had wished to accompany them, but as Zveri was expecting
messages from a number of his various agents throughout Northern
Africa, it had been necessary to leave her behind. Abu Batn and his
warriors were left to guard the camp, and these, with a few black
servants, were all who did not accompany the expedition.
Since the failure of the first expedition and the fiasco at the gates
of Opar, the relations of Abu Batn and Zveri had been strained. The
sheykh and his warriors, smarting under the charges of cowardice,
had kept more to themselves than formerly; and though they would not
volunteer to enter the city of Opar, they still resented the affront of
their selection to remain behind as camp guards; and so it was that as
the others departed, the Aarabs sat in the múk'aad of their sheykh's
beyt es-sh'ar, whispering over their thick coffee, their swart scowling
faces half hidden by their thorrîbs.
They did not deign even to glance at their departing comrades, but the
eyes of Abu Batn were fixed upon the slender figure of Zora Drinov as
the sheykh sat in silent meditation.
VI
BETRAYED
The heart of little Nkima had been torn by conflicting emotions, as
from the vantage point of the summit of the rocky hillock he had
watched the departure of Miguel Romero from the city of Opar. Seeing
these brave Tarmangani, armed with death-dealing thundersticks, driven
away from the ruins, he was convinced that something terrible must have
befallen his master within the grim recesses of that crumbling pile.
His loyal heart prompted him to return and investigate, but Nkima was
only a very little Manu--a little Manu who was very much afraid; and
though he started twice again toward Opar, he could not muster his
courage to the sticking point; and at last, whimpering pitifully, he
turned back across the plains toward the grim forest, where, at least,
the dangers were familiar ones.
* * * * *
The door of the gloomy chamber which Tarzan had entered swung inward,
and his hands were still upon it as the menacing roar of the lion
apprised him of the danger of his situation. Agile and quick is Numa,
the lion, but with even greater celerity functioned the mind and
muscles of Tarzan of the Apes. In the instant that the lion sprang
toward him a picture of the whole scene flashed to the mind of the
ape-man. He saw the gnarled priests of Opar advancing along the
corridor in pursuit of him. He saw the heavy door that swung inward.
He saw the charging lion, and he pieced these various factors together
to create a situation far more to his advantage than they normally
presented. Drawing the door quickly inward, he stepped behind it
as the lion charged, with the result that the beast, either carried
forward by his own momentum or sensing escape, sprang into the corridor
full in the faces of the advancing priests, and at the same instant
Tarzan closed the door behind him.
Just what happened in the corridor without he could not see, but from
the growls and screams that receded quickly into the distance he was
able to draw a picture that brought a quiet smile to his lips; and an
instant later a piercing shriek of agony and terror announced the fate
of at least one of the fleeing Oparians.
Realizing that he would gain nothing by remaining where he was, Tarzan
decided to leave the cell and seek a way out of the labyrinthine
mazes of the pits beneath Opar. He knew that the lion upon its prey
would doubtless bar his passage along the route he had been following
when his escape had been interrupted by the priests and though, as a
last resort, he might face Numa, he was of no mind to invite such an
unnecessary risk; but when he sought to open the heavy door he found
that he could not budge it, and in an instant he realized what had
happened and that he was now in prison once again in the dungeons of
Opar.
The bar that secured this particular door was not of the sliding type
but, working upon a pin at the inner end, dropped into heavy wrought
iron keepers bolted to the door itself and to its frame. When he had
entered, he had raised the bar, which had dropped into place of its
own weight when the door slammed to, imprisoning him as effectually as
though the work had been done by the hand of man.
The darkness of the corridor without was less intense than that of the
passage upon which his former cell had been located; and though not
enough light entered the cell to illuminate its interior, there was
sufficient to show him the nature of the ventilating opening in the
door, which he found to consist of a number of small round holes, none
of which was of sufficient diameter to permit him to pass his hand
through in an attempt to raise the bar.