is as splendid as he is mysterious."
"I know who he is," said a black, who had pushed forward to where he
could see the figure of the prostrate man, "and if he is not already
dead, you had better kill him, for he will be your worst enemy."
"What do you mean?" demanded Zveri. "Who is he?"
"He is Tarzan of the Apes."
"You are certain?" snapped Zveri.
"Yes, Bwana," replied the black. "I saw him once before, and one never
forgets Tarzan of the Apes."
"Yours was a lucky shot, Ivitch," said the leader, "and now you may as
well finish what you started."
"Kill him, you mean?" demanded Ivitch.
"Our cause is lost and our lives with it, if he lives," replied Zveri.
"I thought that he was dead, or I should never have come here; and now
that Fate has thrown him into our hands we would be fools to let him
escape, for we could not have a worse enemy than he."
"I cannot kill him in cold blood," said Ivitch.
"You always were a weak minded fool," said Zveri, "but I am not. Stand
aside, Zora," and as he spoke he drew his revolver and advanced toward
Tarzan.
The girl threw herself across the ape-man, shielding his body with
hers. "You cannot kill him," she cried. "You must not."
"Don't be a fool, Zora," snapped Zveri.
"He saved my life and brought me back here to camp. Do you think I am
going to let you murder him?" she demanded.
"I am afraid you can't help yourself, Zora," replied the man. "I do not
like to do it, but it is his life or the cause. If he lives, we fail."
The girl leaped to her feet and faced Zveri. "If you kill him, Peter,
I shall kill you--I swear it by everything that I hold most dear. Hold
him prisoner if you will, but as you value your life, do not kill him."
Zveri went pale with anger. "Your words are treason," he said.
"Traitors to the cause have died for less than what you have said."
Zora Drinov realized that the situation was extremely dangerous. She
had little reason to believe that Zveri would make good his threat
toward her, but she saw that if she would save Tarzan she must act
quickly. "Send the others away," she said to Zveri. "I have something
to tell you before you kill this man."
For a moment the leader hesitated. Then he turned to Dorsky, who stood
at his side. "Have the fellow securely bound and taken to one of the
tents," he commanded. "We shall give him a fair trial after he has
regained consciousness and then place him before a firing squad," and
then to the girl, "Come with me, Zora, and I will listen to what you
have to say."
In silence the two walked to Zveri's tent. "Well?" inquired Zveri, as
the girl halted before the entrance. "What have you to say to me that
you think will change my plans relative to your lover?"
Zora looked at him for a long minute, a faint sneer of contempt curling
her lips. "_You_ would think such a thing," she said, "but you are
wrong. However you may think, though, you shall not kill him."
"And why not?" demanded Zveri.
"Because if you do I shall tell them all what your plans are; that you
yourself are a traitor to the cause, and that you have been using them
all to advance your own selfish ambition to make yourself Emperor of
Africa."
"You would not dare," cried Zveri; "nor would I let you; for as much as
I love you, I shall kill you here on the spot, unless you promise not
to interfere in any way with my plans."
"You do not dare kill me," taunted the girl. "You have antagonized
every man in the camp, Peter, and they all like me. Some of them,
perhaps, love me a little. Do you think that I should not be avenged
within five minutes after you had killed me? You will have to think of
something else, my friend; and the best thing that you can do is to
take my advice. Keep Tarzan of the Apes a prisoner if you will, but on
your life do not kill him or permit anyone else to do so."
Zveri sank into a camp chair. "Everyone is against me," he said. "Even
you, the woman I love, turn against me."
"I have not changed toward you in any respect, Peter," said the girl.
"You mean that?" he asked, looking up.
"Absolutely," she replied.
"How long were you alone in the jungle with that man?" he demanded.
"Don't start that, Peter," she said. "He could not have treated me
differently if he had been my own brother; and certainly, all other
considerations aside, you should know me well enough to know that I
have no such weakness in the direction that your tone implied."
"You have never loved me--that is the reason," he declared. "But I
would not trust you or any other woman with a man she loves or with
whom she was temporarily infatuated."
"That," she said, "has nothing to do with what we are discussing. Are
you going to kill Tarzan of the Apes, or are you not?"
"For your sake, I shall let him live," replied the man, "even though I
do not trust you," he added. "I trust no one. How can I? Look at this,"
and he took a code message from his pocket and handed it to her. "This
came a few days ago--the damn traitor. I wish I could get my hands on
him. I should like to have killed him myself, but I suppose I shall
have no such luck, as he is probably already dead."
Zora took the paper. Below the message, in Zveri's scrawling hand, it
had been decoded in Russian script. As she read it, her eyes grew large
with astonishment. "It is incredible," she cried.
"It is the truth, though," said Zveri. "I always suspected the dirty
hound," and he added with an oath, "I think that damn Mexican is just
as bad."
"At least," said Zora, "his plan has been thwarted, for I take it that
his message did not get through."
"No," said Zveri. "By error it was delivered to our agents instead of
his."
"Then no harm has been done."
"Fortunately, no; but it has made me suspicious of everyone, and I am
going to push the expedition through at once before anything further
can occur to interfere with my plans."
"Everything is ready, then?" she asked.
"Everything is ready," he replied. "We march tomorrow morning. And now
tell me what happened while I was at Opar. Why did the Aarabs desert,
and why did you go with them?"
"Abu Batn was angry and resentful because you left him to guard the
camp. The Aarabs felt that it was a reflection upon their courage, and
I think that they would have deserted you anyway, regardless of me.
Then, the day after you left, a strange woman wandered into camp. She
was a very beautiful white woman from Opar; and Abu Batn, conceiving
the idea of profiting through the chance that Fate had sent him, took
us with him with the intention of selling us into captivity on his
return march to his own country."
"Are there no honest men in the world?" demanded Zveri.
"I am afraid not," replied the girl; but as he was staring moodily
at the ground, he did not see the contemptuous curl of her lip that
accompanied her reply.
She described the luring of La from Abu Batn's camp and of the sheykh's
anger at the treachery of Ibn Dammuk; and then she told him of her own
escape, but she did not mention Wayne Colt's connection with it and led
him to believe that she wandered alone in the jungle until the great
ape had captured her. She dwelt at length upon Tarzan's kindness and
consideration and told of the great elephant who had guarded her by day.
"Sounds like a fairy story," said Zveri, "but I have heard enough about
this ape-man to believe almost anything concerning him, which is one
reason why I believe we shall never be safe while he lives."
"He cannot harm us while he is our prisoner; and certainly, if you love
me as you say you do, the man who saved my life deserves better from
you than ignominious death."
"Speak no more of it," said Zveri. "I have already told you that I
would not kill him," but in his treacherous mind he was formulating a
plan whereby Tarzan might be destroyed while still he adhered to the
letter of his promise to Zora.
XV
"KILL, TANTOR, KILL!"
Early the following morning the expedition filed out of camp, the
savage black warriors arrayed in the uniforms of French Colonial
Troops; while Zveri, Romero, Ivitch, and Mori wore the uniforms of
French officers. Zora Drinov accompanied the marching column; for
though she had asked to be permitted to remain and nurse Tarzan, Zveri
would not permit her to do so, saying that he would not again let her
out of his sight. Dorsky and a handful of blacks were left behind to
guard the prisoner and watch over the store of provisions and equipment
that were to be left in the base camp.
As the column had been preparing to march, Zveri gave his final
instructions to Dorsky. "I leave this matter entirely in your hands,"
he said. "It must appear that he escaped, or, at worst, that he met an
accidental death."
"You need give the matter no further thought, Comrade," replied Dorsky.
"Long before you return, this stranger will have been removed."
A long and difficult march lay before the invaders, their route lying
across southeastern Abyssinia into Italian Somaliland, along five
hundred miles of rough and savage country. It was Zveri's intention
to make no more than a demonstration in the Italian colony, merely
sufficient to arouse the anger of the Italians still further against
the French and to give the fascist dictator the excuse which Zveri
believed was all that he awaited to carry his mad dream of Italian
conquest across Europe.
Perhaps Zveri was a little mad, but then he was a disciple of mad men
whose greed for power wrought distorted images in their minds, so that
they could not differentiate between the rational and the bizarre; and
then, too, Zveri had for so long dreamed his dream of empire that he
saw now only his goal and none of the insurmountable obstacles that
beset his path. He saw a new Roman emperor ruling Europe, and himself
as Emperor of Africa making an alliance with this new European power
against all the balance of the world. He pictured two splendid golden
thrones; upon one of them sat the Emperor Peter I, and upon the other
the Empress Zora; and so he dreamed through the long, hard marches
toward the east.
* * * * *
It was the morning of the day following that upon which he had been
shot before Tarzan regained consciousness. He felt weak and sick, and
his head ached horribly. When he tried to move, he discovered that
his wrists and ankles were securely bound. He did not know what had
happened, and at first he could not imagine where he was; but, as
recollection slowly returned and he recognized about him the canvas
walls of a tent, he understood that in some way his enemies had
captured him. He tried to wrench his wrists free from the cords that
held them, but they resisted his every effort.
He listened intently and sniffed the air, but he could detect no
evidence of the teeming camp that he had seen when he had brought the
girl back. He knew, however, that at least one night had passed; for
the shadows that he could see through the tent opening indicated that
the sun was high in the heavens, whereas it had been low in the west
when last he saw it. Hearing voices, he realized that he was not alone,
though he was confident that there must be comparatively few men in
camp.
Deep in the jungle he heard an elephant trumpeting, and once, from far
off, came faintly the roar of a lion. Tarzan strove again to snap the
bonds that held him, but they would not yield. Then he turned his head
so that he faced the opening in the tent, and from his lips burst a
long, low cry; the cry of a beast in distress.
Dorsky, who was lolling in a chair before his own tent, leaped to his
feet. The blacks, who had been talking animatedly, before their own
shelters, went quickly quiet and seized their weapons.
"What was that?" Dorsky demanded of his black boy.
The fellow, wide-eyed and trembling, shook his head. "I do not know,
Bwana," he said. "Perhaps the man in the tent has died, for such a
noise may well have come from the throat of a ghost."
"Nonsense," said Dorsky. "Come, we'll have a look at him." But the
black held back, and the white man went on alone.
The sound, which had come apparently from the tent in which the captive
lay, had had a peculiar effect upon Dorsky, causing the flesh of his
scalp to creep and a strange foreboding to fill him; so that as he
neared the tent, he went more slowly and held his revolver ready in his
hand.
When he entered the tent, he saw the man lying where he had been left;
but now his eyes were open, and when they met those of the Russian, the
latter had a sensation similar to that which one feels when he comes
eye to eye with a wild beast that has been caught in a trap.
"Well," said Dorsky, "so you have come to, have you? What do you want?"
The captive made no reply, but his eyes never left the other's face.
So steady was the unblinking gaze that Dorsky became uneasy beneath
it. "You had better learn to talk," he said gruffly, "if you know what
is good for you." Then it occurred to him that perhaps the man did not
understand him so he turned in the entrance and called to some of the
blacks, who had advanced, half in curiosity, half in fear, toward the
tent of the prisoner. "One of you fellows come here," he said.
At first no one seemed inclined to obey, but presently a stalwart
warrior advanced. "See if this fellow can understand your language.
Come in and tell him that I have a proposition to make to him and that
he had better listen to it."
"If this is indeed Tarzan of the Apes," said the black, "he can
understand me," and he came warily to the entrance of the tent.
The black repeated the message in his own dialect, but by no sign did
the ape-man indicate that he understood.
Dorsky lost his patience. "You damned ape," he said. "You needn't try
to make a fool of me. I know perfectly well that you understand this
fellow's gibberish, and I know, too, that you are an Englishman and
that you understand English. I'll give you just five minutes to think
this thing over, and then I am coming back. If you have not made up
your mind to talk by that time, you can take the consequences." Then he
turned on his heel and left the tent.
* * * * *
Little Nkima had travelled far. Around his neck was a stout thong,
supporting a little bag of leather, in which reposed a message. This
eventually he had brought to Muviro, war chief of the Waziri; and when
the Waziri had started out upon their long march, Nkima had ridden
proudly upon the shoulder of Muviro. For some time he had remained with
the black warriors; but then, at last, moved perhaps by some caprice of
his erratic mind, or by a great urge that he could not resist, he had
left them and, facing alone all the dangers that he feared most, had
set out by himself upon business of his own.
Many and narrow were the escapes of Nkima as he swung through the
giants of the forest. Could he have resisted temptation, he might have
passed with reasonable safety, but that he could not do; and so he was
forever getting himself into trouble by playing pranks upon strangers,
who, if they possessed any sense of humor themselves, most certainly
failed to appreciate little Nkima's. Nkima could not forget that he was
friend and confidant of Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle, though he seemed
often to forget that Tarzan was not there to protect him when he hurled
taunts and insults at other monkeys less favored. That he came through
alive speaks more eloquently for his speed than for his intelligence
or courage. Much of the time he was fleeing in terror, emitting
shrill screams of mental anguish; yet he never seemed to learn from
experience, and having barely eluded one pursuer intent upon murdering
him he would be quite prepared to insult or annoy the next creature he
met, especially selecting, it would seem, those that were larger and
stronger than himself.
Sometimes he fled in one direction, sometimes in another, so that he
occupied much more time than was necessary in making his journey.
Otherwise he would have reached his master in time to be of service to
him at a moment that Tarzan needed a friend as badly, perhaps, as ever
he had needed one before in his life.
And now, while far away in the forest Nkima fled from an old dog
baboon, whom he had hit with a well-aimed stick, Michael Dorsky
approached the tent where Nkima's master lay bound and helpless. The
five minutes were up, and Dorsky had come to demand Tarzan's answer. He
came alone, and as he entered the tent his simple plan of action was
well formulated in his mind.
The expression upon the prisoner's face had changed. He seemed to be
listening intently. Dorsky listened then, too, but could hear nothing;
for by comparison with the hearing of Tarzan of the Apes Michael Dorsky
was deaf. What Tarzan heard filled him with quiet satisfaction.
"Now," said Dorsky, "I have come to give you your last chance. Comrade
Zveri has led two expeditions to Opar in search of the gold that we
know is stored there. Both expeditions failed. It is well known that
you know the location of the treasure vaults of Opar and can lead us
to them. Agree that you will do this when Comrade Zveri returns, and
not only will you not be harmed, but you will be released as quickly
as Comrade Zveri feels that it would be safe to have you at liberty.
Refuse and you die." He drew a long, slender stiletto from its sheath
at his belt. "If you refuse to answer me, I shall accept that as
evidence that you have not accepted my proposition." And as the ape-man
maintained his stony silence, the Russian held the thin blade low
before his eyes. "Think well, ape," he said, "and remember that when
I slip this between your ribs there will be no sound. It will pierce
your heart, and I shall leave it there until the blood has ceased to
flow. Then I shall remove it and close the wound. Later in the day you
will be found dead, and I shall tell the blacks that you died from the
accidental gun-shot. Thus your friends will never learn the truth. You
will not be avenged, and you will have died uselessly." He paused for a
reply, his evil eyes glinting menacing into the cold, grey eyes of the
ape-man.
The dagger was very near Tarzan's face now; and of a sudden, like a
wild beast, he raised his body, and his jaws closed like a steel trap
upon the wrist of the Russian. With a scream of pain, Dorsky drew back.
The dagger dropped from his nerveless fingers. At the same instant
Tarzan swung his legs around the feet of the would-be assassin; and as
Dorsky rolled over on his back, he dragged Tarzan of the Apes on top of
him.
The ape-man knew from the snapping of Dorsky's wrist bones between his
teeth that the man's right hand was useless, and so he released it.
Then to the Russian's horror, the ape-man's jaws sought his jugular as,
from his throat, there rumbled the growl of a savage beast at bay.
Screaming for his men to come to his assistance, Dorsky tried to reach
the revolver at his right hip with his left hand, but he soon saw that
unless he could rid himself of Tarzan's body he would be unable to do
so.
Already he heard his men running toward the tent, shouting among
themselves, and then he heard exclamations of surprise and screams of
terror. The next instant the tent vanished from above them, and Dorsky
saw a huge bull elephant towering above him and his savage antagonist.
Instantly Tarzan ceased his efforts to close his teeth on Dorsky's
throat and at the same time rolled quickly from the body of the
Russian. As he did so, Dorsky's hand found his revolver.
"Kill, Tantor!" shouted the ape-man. "Kill!"
The sinuous trunk of the pachyderm twined around the Russian. The
little eyes of the elephant flamed red with hate, and he trumpeted
shrilly as he raised Dorsky high above his head and, wheeling about,
hurled him out into the camp; while the terrified blacks, casting
affrighted glances over their shoulders, fled into the jungle. Then
Tantor charged his victim. With his great tusks he gored him; and then,
in a frenzy of rage, trumpeting and squealing, he trampled him until
nothing remained of Michael Dorsky but a bloody pulp.
From the moment that Tantor had seized the Russian, Tarzan had sought
ineffectually to stay the great brute's fury, but Tantor was deaf to
commands until he had wreaked his vengeance upon this creature that had
dared to attack his friend. But when his rage had spent its force and
nothing remained against which to vent it, he came quietly to Tarzan's
side and at a word from the ape-man lifted his brown body gently in his
powerful trunk and bore him away into the forest.
Deep into the jungle to a hidden glade, Tantor carried his helpless
friend, and there he placed him gently on soft grasses beneath the
shade of a tree. Little more could the great bull do other than to
stand guard. As a result of the excitement attending the killing of
Dorsky and his concern for Tarzan, Tantor was nervous and irritable.
He stood with upraised ears, alert for any menacing sound, waving his
sensitive trunk to and fro, searching each vagrant air current for the
scent of danger.
The pain of his wound annoyed Tarzan far less than the pangs of thirst.
To little monkeys watching him from the trees he called, "Come, Manu,
and untie the thongs that bind my wrists."
"We are afraid," said an old monkey.
"I am Tarzan of the Apes," said the man reassuringly. "Tarzan has been
your friend always. He will not harm you."
"We are afraid," repeated the old monkey. "Tarzan deserted us. For
many moons the jungle has not known Tarzan; but other Tarmangani and
strange Gomangani came and with thundersticks they hunted little Manu
and killed him. If Tarzan had still been our friend, he would have
driven these strange men away."
"If I had been here, the strange men-things would not have harmed you,"
said Tarzan. "Still would Tarzan have protected you. Now I am back, but
I cannot destroy the strangers or drive them away until the thongs are
taken from my wrists."
"Who put them there?" asked the monkey.
"The strange Tarmangani," replied Tarzan.
"Then they must be more powerful than Tarzan," said Manu, "so what good
would it do to set you free? If the strange Tarmangani found out that
we had done it, they would be angry and come and kill us. Let Tarzan,
who for many rains has been Lord of the Jungle, free himself."
Seeing that it was futile to appeal to Manu, Tarzan, as a forlorn hope,
voiced the long, plaintive, uncanny help call of the great apes. With
slowly increasing crescendo it rose to a piercing shriek that drove far
and wide through the silent jungle.
In all directions, beasts, great and small, paused as the weird note
broke upon their sensitive eardrums. None was afraid, for the call
told them that a great bull was in trouble and, therefore, doubtless
harmless; but the jackals interpreted the sound to mean the possibility
of flesh and trotted off through the jungle in the direction from which
it had come; and Dango, the hyaena, heard and slunk on soft pads,
hoping that he would find a helpless animal that would prove easy prey.
And far away, and faintly, a little monkey heard the call, recognizing
the voice of the caller. Swiftly, then, he flew through the jungle,
impelled as he was upon rare occasions by a directness of thought and a
tenacity of purpose that brooked no interruption.
Tarzan had sent Tantor to the river to fetch water in his trunk. From
a distance he caught the scent of the jackals and the horrid scent
of Dango, and he hoped that Tantor would return before they came
creeping upon him. He felt no fear, only an instinctive urge toward
self-preservation. The jackals he held in contempt, knowing that,
though bound hand and foot, he still could keep the timid creatures
away; but Dango was different, for once the filthy brute realized his
helplessness, Tarzan knew that those powerful jaws would make quick
work of him. He knew the merciless savagery of the beast; knew that in
all the jungle there was none more terrible than Dango.
The jackals came first, standing at the edge of the little glade
watching him. Then they circled slowly, coming nearer; but when he
raised himself to a sitting position they ran yelping away. Three times
they crept closer, trying to force their courage to the point of actual
attack; and then a horrid, slinking form appeared upon the edge of the
glade, and the jackals withdrew to a safe distance. Dango, the hyaena,
had come.
Tarzan was still sitting up, and the beast stood eyeing him, filled
with curiosity and with fear. He growled, and the man-thing facing him
growled back; and then from above them came a great chattering, and
Tarzan, looking up, saw little Nkima dancing upon the limb of a tree
above him.