straight branches, from which the twigs and leaves had been removed.
With a celerity and adeptness that bespoke long years of practice, he
constructed a shelter upon the bank of the rivulet. He gathered broad
leaves to thatch its roof, and leafy branches to enclose it upon three
sides, so that it formed a protection against the prevailing winds. He
floored it with leaves and small twigs and dry grasses. Then he came
and, lifting the girl in his arms, bore her to the rustic bower he had
fabricated.
Once again he left her; and when he returned he brought a little fruit,
which he fed to her sparingly, for he guessed that she had been long
without food and knew that he must not overtax her stomach.
Always he worked in silence; and though no word had passed between
them, Zora Drinov felt growing within her consciousness a conviction of
his trustworthiness.
The next time that he left her he was gone a considerable time, but
still the elephant stood in the clearing, like some titanic sentinel
upon guard.
When next the man returned, he brought the carcass of a deer; and
then Zora saw him make fire, after the manner of primitive men. As
the meat roasted above it, the fragrant aroma came to her nostrils,
bringing consciousness of a ravening hunger. When the meat was cooked,
the man came and squatted beside her, cutting small pieces with his
keen hunting knife and feeding her as though she had been a helpless
baby. He gave her only a little at a time, making her rest often; and
while she ate he spoke for the first time, but not to her, nor in any
language that she had ever heard. He spoke to the great elephant, and
the huge pachyderm wheeled slowly about and entered the jungle, where
she could hear the diminishing noise of his passage until it was lost
in the distance. Before the meal was over, it was quite dark; and
she finished it in the fitful light of the fire that shone redly on
the bronzed skin of her companion and shot back from mysterious gray
eyes that gave the impression of seeing everything, even her inmost
thoughts. Then he brought her a drink of water, after which he squatted
down outside her shelter and proceeded to satisfy his own hunger.
Gradually the girl had been lulled to a feeling of security by
the seeming solicitude of her strange protector. But now distinct
misgivings assailed her, and suddenly she felt a strange new fear of
the silent giant in whose power she was; for when he ate she saw that
he ate his meat raw, tearing the flesh like a wild beast. When there
came the sound of something moving in the jungle just beyond the fire
light and he raised his head and looked and there came a low and
savage growl of warning from his lips, the girl closed her eyes and
buried her face in her arms in sudden terror and revulsion. From the
darkness of the jungle there came an answering growl; but the sound
moved on, and presently all was silent again.
It seemed a long time before Zora dared open her eyes again, and when
she did she saw that the man had finished his meal and was stretched
out on the grass between her and the fire. She was afraid of him, of
that she was quite certain; yet, at the same time, she could not deny
that his presence there imparted to her a feeling of safety that she
had never before felt in the jungle. As she tried to fathom this, she
dozed and presently was asleep.
The young sun was already bringing renewed warmth to the jungle when
she awoke. The man had replenished the fire and was sitting before it,
grilling small fragments of meat. Beside him were some fruits, which
he must have gathered since he had awakened. As she watched him, she
was still further impressed by his great physical beauty, as well as
by a certain marked nobility of bearing that harmonized well with the
dignity of his poise and the intelligence of his keen gray eyes. She
wished that she had not seen him devour his meat like a--ah, that was
it--like a lion. How much like a lion he was, in his strength, and
dignity, and majesty, and with all the quiet suggestion of ferocity
that pervaded his every act. And so it was that she came to think of
him as her lion-man and, while trying to trust him, always fearing him
not a little.
Again he fed her and brought her water before he satisfied his own
hunger; but before he started to eat, he arose and voiced a long,
low call. Then once more he squatted upon his haunches and devoured
his food. Although he held it in his strong, brown hands and ate the
flesh raw, she saw now that he ate slowly and with the same quiet
dignity that marked his every act, so that presently she found him less
revolting. Once again she tried to talk with him, addressing him in
various languages and several African dialects, but as for any sign he
gave that he understood her she might as well have been addressing a
dumb brute. Doubtless her disappointment would have been replaced by
anger could she have known that she was addressing an English lord, who
understood perfectly every word that she uttered, but who, for reasons
which he himself best knew, preferred to remain the dumb brute to this
woman whom he looked upon as an enemy.
However, it was well for Zora Drinov that he was what he was, for
it was the prompting of the English lord and not that of the savage
carnivore that had moved him to succor her because she was alone, and
helpless, and a woman. The beast in Tarzan would not have attacked her,
but would merely have ignored her, letting the law of the jungle take
its course as it must with all her creatures.
Shortly after Tarzan had finished his meal, a crashing in the jungle
announced the return of Tantor; and when he appeared in the little
clearing, the girl realized that the great brute had come in response
to the call of the man, and marvelled.
And so the days wore on; and slowly Zora Drinov regained her strength,
guarded by night by the silent forest god and by day by the great bull
elephant. Her only apprehension now was for the safety of Wayne Colt,
who was seldom from her thoughts. Nor was her apprehension groundless,
for the young American had fallen upon bad days.
Almost frantic with concern for the safety of Zora, he had exhausted
his strength in futile search for her and her abductor, forgetful of
himself until hunger and fatigue had taken their toll of his strength.
He had awakened at last to the realization that his condition was
dangerous; and now when he needed food most, the game that he had
formerly found reasonably plentiful seemed to have deserted the
country. Even the smaller rodents that had once sufficed to keep him
alive were either too wary for him or not present at all. Occasionally
he found fruits that he could eat, but they seemed to impart little or
no strength to him; and at last he was forced to the conviction that he
had reached the end of his endurance and his strength and that nothing
short of a miracle could preserve him from death. He was so weak that
he could stagger only a few steps at a time and then, sinking to the
ground, was forced to lie there for a long time before he could arise
again; and always there was the knowledge that eventually he would not
arise.
Yet he would not give up. Something more than the urge to live drove
him on. He could not die, he must not die while Zora Drinov was in
danger. He had found a well beaten trail at last where he was sure that
sooner or later he must meet a native hunter, or, perhaps, find his way
to the camp of his fellows. He could only crawl now, for he had not the
strength to rise; and then suddenly the moment came that he had striven
so long to avert--the moment that marked the end, though it came in a
form that he had only vaguely anticipated as one of several that might
ring the curtain upon his earthly existence.
As he lay in the trail resting before he dragged himself on again, he
was suddenly conscious that he was not alone. He had heard no sounds,
for doubtless his hearing had been dulled by exhaustion; but he was
aware through the medium of that strange sense, the possession of which
each of us has felt at some time in his existence that told him eyes
were upon him.
With an effort he raised his head and looked, and there, before him in
the trail, stood a great lion, his lips drawn back in an angry snarl,
his yellow-green eyes glaring balefully.
XIV
SHOT DOWN
Tarzan went almost daily to watch the camp of his enemy, moving swiftly
through the jungle by trails unknown to man. He saw that preparations
for the first bold stroke were almost completed, and finally he saw
uniforms being issued to all members of the party--uniforms which he
recognized as those of French Colonial Troops--and he realized that the
time had come when he must move. He hoped that little Nkima had carried
his message safely, but if not, Tarzan would find some other way.
Zora Drinov's strength was slowly returning. Today she had arisen and
taken a few steps out into the sunlit clearing. The great elephant
regarded her. She had long since ceased to fear him, as she had ceased
to fear the strange white man who had befriended her. Slowly the girl
approached the great bull, and Tantor regarded her out of his little
eyes as he waved his trunk to and fro.
He had been so docile and harmless all the days that he had guarded her
that it had grown to be difficult for Zora to conceive him capable of
inflicting injury upon her. But as she looked into his little eyes now,
there was an expression there that brought her to a sudden halt; and
as she realized that after all he was only a wild bull elephant, she
suddenly appreciated the rashness of her act. She was already so close
to him that she could have reached out and touched him, as had been her
intention, having thought that she would thus make friends with him.
It was in her mind to fall back with dignity, when the waving trunk
shot suddenly out and encircled her body. Zora Drinov did not scream.
She only closed her eyes and waited. She felt herself lifted from the
ground, and a moment later the elephant had crossed the little clearing
and deposited her in her shelter. Then he backed off slowly and resumed
his post of duty.
He had not hurt her. A mother could not have lifted her baby more
gently, but he had impressed upon Zora Drinov that she was a prisoner
and that he was her keeper. As a matter of fact, Tantor was only
carrying out Tarzan's instructions, which had nothing to do with the
forcible restraint of the girl, but were only a measure of precaution
to prevent her wandering into the jungle where other dangers might
overtake her.
Zora had not fully regained her strength, and the experience left her
trembling. Though she now realized that her sudden fears for her safety
had been groundless, she decided that she would take no more liberties
with her mighty warden.
It was not long after, that Tarzan returned, much earlier in the day
than was his custom. He spoke only to Tantor; and the great beast,
touching him almost caressingly with his trunk, turned and lumbered off
into the forest. Then Tarzan advanced to where Zora sat in the opening
of her shelter. Lightly he lifted her from the ground and tossed her to
his shoulder; and then, to her infinite surprise at the strength and
agility of the man, he swung into a tree and was off through the jungle
in the wake of the pachyderm.
At the edge of the river that they had crossed before, Tantor was
awaiting them, and once more he carried Zora and Tarzan safely to the
other bank.
Tarzan himself had crossed the river twice a day since he had made the
camp for Zora; but when he went alone he needed no help from Tantor
or any other, for he swam the swift stream, his eye alert and his
keen knife ready should Gimla, the crocodile, attack him. But for the
crossing of the woman, he had enlisted the services of Tantor that she
might not be subjected to the danger and hardship of the only other
means of crossing that was possible.
As Tantor clambered up the muddy bank, Tarzan dismissed him with a
word, as with the girl in his arms he leaped into a nearby tree.
That flight through the jungle was an experience that might long stand
vividly in the memory of Zora Drinov. That a human being could possess
the strength and agility of the creature that carried her seemed
unbelievable, and she might easily have attributed a supernatural
origin to him had she not felt the life in the warm flesh that was
pressed against hers. Leaping from branch to branch, swinging across
breathless voids, she was borne swiftly through the middle terrace of
the forest. At first she had been terrified, but gradually fear left
her, to be replaced by that utter confidence which Tarzan of the Apes
has inspired in many a breast. At last he stopped and, lowering her to
the branch upon which he stood, pointed through the surrounding foliage
ahead of them. Zora looked and to her astonishment saw the camp of her
companions lying ahead and below her. Once more the ape-man took her in
his arms and dropped lightly to the ground into a wide trail that swept
past the base of the tree in which he had halted. With a wave of his
hand he indicated that she was free to go to the camp.
"Oh, how can I thank you!" exclaimed the girl. "How can I ever make you
understand how splendid you have been and how I appreciate all that you
have done for me?" But his only reply was to turn and swing lightly
into the tree that spread its green foliage above them.
With a rueful shake of her head, Zora Drinov started along the trail
toward camp, while above her Tarzan followed through the trees to make
certain that she arrived in safety.
Paul Ivitch had been hunting, and he was just returning to camp when
he saw something move in a tree at the edge of the clearing. He saw
the spots of a leopard, and raising his rifle, he fired; so that at
the moment that Zora entered the camp, the body of Tarzan of the Apes
lunged from a tree almost at her side, blood trickling from a bullet
wound in his head as the sunshine played upon the leopard spots of his
loin cloth.
* * * * *
The sight of the lion growling above him might have shaken the nerves
of a man in better physical condition than was Wayne Colt, but the
vision of a beautiful girl running quickly toward the savage beast from
the rear was the final stroke that almost overwhelmed him.
Through his brain ran a medley of recollection and conjecture. In a
brief instant he recalled that men had borne witness to the fact that
they had felt no pain while being mauled by a lion--neither pain nor
fear--and he also recalled that men went mad from thirst and hunger. If
he were to die, then, it would not be painful, and of that he was glad;
but if he were not to die, then surely he was mad, for the lion and the
girl must be the hallucination of a crazed mind.
Fascination held his eyes fixed upon the two. How real they were! He
heard the girl speak to the lion, and then he saw her brush past the
great savage beast and come and bend over him where he lay helpless in
the trail. She touched him, and then he knew that she was real.
"Who are you?" she asked, in limping English that was beautiful with a
strange accent. "What has happened to you?"
"I have been lost," he said, "and I am about done up. I have not eaten
for a long while," and then he fainted.
Jad-bal-ja, the golden lion, had conceived a strange affection for
La of Opar. Perhaps it was the call of one kindred savage spirit to
another. Perhaps it was merely the recollection that she was Tarzan's
friend. But be that as it may, he seemed to find the same pleasure in
her company that a faithful dog finds in the company of his master. He
had protected her with fierce loyalty, and when he made his kill he
shared the flesh with her. She, however, after cutting off a portion
that she wanted, had always gone away a little distance to build her
primitive fire and cook the flesh; nor ever had she ventured back to
the kill after Jad-bal-ja had commenced to feed, for a lion is yet a
lion, and the grim and ferocious growls that accompanied his feeding
warned the girl against presuming too far upon the new found generosity
of the carnivore.
They had been feeding, when the approach of Colt had attracted Numa's
attention and brought him into the trail from his kill. For a moment La
had feared that she might not be able to keep the lion from the man,
and she had wanted to do so; for something in the stranger's appearance
reminded her of Tarzan, whom he more nearly resembled than he did
the grotesque priests of Opar. Because of this fact she thought that
possibly the stranger might be from Tarzan's country. Perhaps he was
one of Tarzan's friends and if so, she must protect him. To her relief,
the lion had obeyed her when she had called upon him to halt, and now
he evinced no further desire to attack the man.
When Colt regained consciousness, La tried to raise him to his feet;
and, with considerable difficulty and some slight assistance from the
man, she succeeded in doing so. She put one of his arms across her
shoulders and, supporting him thus, guided him back along the trail,
while Jad-bal-ja followed at their heels. She had difficulty in getting
him through the brush to the hidden glen where Jad-bal-ja's kill lay
and her little fire was burning a short distance away. But at last she
succeeded and when they had come close to her fire, she lowered the man
to the ground, while Jad-bal-ja turned once more to his feeding and his
growling.
La fed the man tiny pieces of the meat that she had cooked, and he ate
ravenously all that she would give him. A short distance away ran the
river, where La and the lion would have gone to drink after they had
fed; but doubting whether she could get the man so great a distance
through the jungle, she left him there with the lion and went down to
the river; but first she told Jad-bal-ja to guard him, speaking in
the language of the first men, the language of the Mangani, that all
creatures of the jungle understand to a greater or lesser extent. Near
the river La found what she sought--a fruit with a hard rind. With her
knife she cut an end from one of these fruits and scooped out the
pulpy interior, producing a primitive but entirely practical cup, which
she filled with water from the river.
The water, as much as the food, refreshed and strengthened Colt;
and though he lay but a few yards from a feeding lion, it seemed an
eternity since he had experienced such a feeling of contentment and
security, clouded only by his anxiety concerning Zora.
"You feel stronger now?" asked La, her voice tinged with concern.
"Very much," he replied.
"Then tell me who you are and if this is your country."
"This is not my country," replied Colt. "I am an American. My name is
Wayne Colt."
"You are perhaps a friend of Tarzan of the Apes?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No," he said. "I have heard of him, but I do not
know him."
La frowned. "You are his enemy, then?" she demanded.
"Of course not," replied Colt. "I do not even know him."
A sudden light flashed in La's eyes. "Do you know Zora?" she asked.
Colt came to his elbow with a sudden start. "Zora Drinov?" he demanded.
"What do you know of her?"
"She is my friend," said La.
"She is my friend also," said Colt.
"She is in trouble," said La.
"Yes, I know it; but how did you know?"
"I was with her when she was taken prisoner by the men of the desert.
They took me also, but I escaped."
"How long ago was that?"
"The Flaming God has gone to rest many times since I saw Zora," replied
the girl.
"Then I have seen her since."
"Where is she?"
"I do not know. She was with the Aarabs when I found her. We escaped
from them; and then, while I was hunting in the jungle something came
and carried her away. I do not know whether it was a man or a gorilla;
for though I saw its footprints, I could not be sure. I have been
searching for her for a long time; but I could not find food, and it
has been some time since I have had water; so I lost my strength, and
you found me as I am."
"You shall not want for food nor water now," said La, "for Numa, the
lion, will hunt for us; and if we can find the camp of Zora's friends,
perhaps they will go out and search for her."
"You know where the camp is?" he asked. "Is it near?"
"I do not know where it is. I have been searching for it to lead her
friends after the men of the desert."
Colt had been studying the girl as they talked. He had noted her
strange, barbaric apparel and the staggering beauty of her face and
figure. He knew almost intuitively that she was not of the world that
he knew, and his mind was filled with curiosity concerning her.
"You have not told me who you are," he said.
"I am La of Opar," she replied, "high priestess of the Flaming God."
Opar! Now indeed he knew that she was not of his world. Opar, the city
of mystery, the city of fabulous treasures. Could it be that the same
city that housed the grotesque warriors with whom he and Romero had
fought produced also such beautiful creatures as Nao and La, and only
these? He wondered why he had not connected her with Opar at once, for
now he saw that her stomacher was similar to that of Nao and of the
priestess that he had seen upon the throne in the great chamber of the
ruined temple. Recalling his attempt to enter Opar and loot it of its
treasures, he deemed it expedient to make no mention of any familiarity
with the city of the girl's birth, for he guessed that Opar's women
might be as primitively fierce in their vengeance as he had found Nao
in her love.
The lion, and the girl, and the man lay up that night beside
Jad-bal-ja's kill, and in the morning Colt found that his strength had
partially returned. During the night Numa had finished his kill; and
after the sun had risen, La found fruits which she and Colt ate, while
the lion strolled to the river to drink, pausing once to roar, that the
world might know the king was there.
"Numa will not kill again until tomorrow," she said, "so we shall have
no meat until then, unless we are fortunate enough to kill something
ourselves."
Colt had long since abandoned the heavy rifle of the Aarabs, to the
burden of which his growing weakness had left his muscles inadequate;
so he had nothing but his bare hands and La only a knife with which
they might make a kill.
"Then I guess we shall eat fruit until the lion kills again," he said.
"In the meantime we might as well be trying to find the camp."
She shook her head. "No," she said, "you must rest. You were very weak
when I found you, and it is not well that you should exert yourself
until you are strong again. Numa will sleep all day. You and I will
cut some sticks and lie beside a little trail, where the small things
go. Perhaps we shall have luck; but if we do not, Numa will kill again
tomorrow, and this time I shall take a whole hind quarter."
"I cannot believe that a lion would let you do that," said the man.
"At first I did not understand it myself," said La, "but after awhile
I remembered. It is because I am Tarzan's friend that he does not harm
me."
* * * * *
When Zora Drinov saw her lion-man lying lifeless on the ground, she ran
quickly to him and knelt at his side. She had heard the shot, and now
seeing the blood running from the wound upon his head, she thought that
someone had killed him intentionally and when Ivitch came running out,
his rifle in his hand, she turned upon him like a tigress.
"You have killed him," she cried. "You beast! He was worth more than a
dozen such as you."
The sound of the shot and the crashing of the body to the ground had
brought men running from all parts of the camp; so that Tarzan and the
girl were soon surrounded by a curious and excited throng of blacks,
among whom the remaining whites were pushing their way.
Ivitch was stunned, not only by the sight of the giant white man lying
apparently dead before him, but also by the presence of Zora Drinov,
whom all within the camp had given up as irretrievably lost. "I had no
idea, Comrade Drinov," he explained, "that I was shooting at a man. I
see now what caused my mistake. I saw something moving in a tree and
thought that it was a leopard, but instead it was the leopard skin that
he wears about his loins."
By this time Zveri had elbowed his way to the center of the group.
"Zora!" he cried in astonishment as he saw the girl. "Where did you
come from? What has happened? What is the meaning of this?"
"It means that this fool, Ivitch, has killed the man who saved my
life," cried Zora.
"Who is he?" asked Zveri.
"I do not know," replied Zora. "He has never spoken to me. He does not
seem to understand any language with which I am familiar."
"He is not dead," cried Ivitch. "See, he moved."
Romero knelt and examined the wound in Tarzan's head. "He is only
stunned," he said. "The bullet struck him a glancing blow. There are
no indications of a fracture of the skull. I have seen men hit thus
before. He may be unconscious for a long time, or he may not, but I am
sure that he will not die."
"Who the devil do you suppose he is?" asked Zveri.