Among the Maniacs
As the lions swarmed over her protectors, Bertha Kircher shrank
back in the cave in a momentary paralysis of fright super-induced,
perhaps, by the long days of terrific nerve strain which she had
undergone.
Mingled with the roars of the lions had been the voices of men,
and presently out of the confusion and turmoil she felt the near
presence of a human being, and then hands reached forth and seized
her. It was dark and she could see but little, nor any sign of the
English officer or the ape-man. The man who seized her kept the
lions from her with what appeared to be a stout spear, the haft of
which he used to beat off the beasts. The fellow dragged her from
the cavern the while he shouted what appeared to be commands and
warnings to the lions.
Once out upon the light sands of the bottom of the gorge objects
became more distinguishable, and then she saw that there were
other men in the party and that two half led and half carried the
stumbling figure of a third, whom she guessed must be Smith-Oldwick.
For a time the lions made frenzied efforts to reach the two captives
but always the men with them succeeded in beating them off. The
fellows seemed utterly unafraid of the great beasts leaping and
snarling about them, handling them much the same as one might handle
a pack of obstreperous dogs. Along the bed of the old watercourse
that once ran through the gorge they made their way, and as the
first faint lightening of the eastern horizon presaged the coming
dawn, they paused for a moment upon the edge of a declivity, which
appeared to the girl in the strange light of the waning night as a
vast, bottomless pit; but, as their captors resumed their way and
the light of the new day became stronger, she saw that they were
moving downward toward a dense forest.
Once beneath the over-arching trees all was again Cimmerian darkness,
nor was the gloom relieved until the sun finally arose beyond the
eastern cliffs, when she saw that they were following what appeared
to be a broad and well-beaten game trail through a forest of great
trees. The ground was unusually dry for an African forest and
the underbrush, while heavily foliaged, was not nearly so rank
and impenetrable as that which she had been accustomed to find
in similar woods. It was as though the trees and the bushes grew
in a waterless country, nor was there the musty odor of decaying
vegetation or the myriads of tiny insects such as are bred in damp
places.
As they proceeded and the sun rose higher, the voices of the
arboreal jungle life rose in discordant notes and loud chattering
about them. Innumerable monkeys scolded and screamed in the branches
overhead, while harsh-voiced birds of brilliant plumage darted
hither and thither. She noticed presently that their captors often
cast apprehensive glances in the direction of the birds and on
numerous occasions seemed to be addressing the winged denizens of
the forest.
One incident made a marked impression on her. The man who immediately
preceded her was a fellow of powerful build, yet, when a brilliantly
colored parrot swooped downward toward him, he dropped upon his knees
and covering his face with his arms bent forward until his head
touched the ground. Some of the others looked at him and laughed
nervously. Presently the man glanced upward and seeing that the
bird had gone, rose to his feet and continued along the trail.
It was at this brief halt that Smith-Oldwick was brought to her
side by the men who had been supporting him. He had been rather
badly mauled by one of the lions; but was now able to walk alone,
though he was extremely weak from shock and loss of blood.
"Pretty mess, what?" he remarked with a wry smile, indicating his
bloody and disheveled state.
"It is terrible," said the girl. "I hope you are not suffering."
"Not as much as I should have expected," he replied, "but I feel
as weak as a fool. What sort of creatures are these beggars, anyway?"
"I don't know," she replied, "there is something terribly uncanny
about their appearance."
The man regarded one of their captors closely for a moment and
then, turning to the girl asked, "Did you ever visit a madhouse?"
She looked up at him in quick understanding and with a horrified
expression in her eyes. "That's it!" she cried.
"They have all the earmarks," he said. "Whites of the eyes showing
all around the irises, hair growing stiffly erect from the scalp
and low down upon the forehead--even their mannerisms and their
carriage are those of maniacs."
The girl shuddered.
"Another thing about them," continued the Englishman, "that doesn't
appear normal is that they are afraid of parrots and utterly fearless
of lions."
"Yes," said the girl; "and did you notice that the birds seem utterly
fearless of them--really seem to hold them in contempt? Have you
any idea what language they speak?"
"No," said the man, "I have been trying to figure that out. It's not
like any of the few native dialects of which I have any knowledge."
"It doesn't sound at all like the native language," said the girl,
"but there is something familiar about it. You know, every now and
then I feel that I am just on the verge of understanding what they
are saying, or at least that somewhere I have heard their tongue
before, but final recognition always eludes me."
"I doubt if you ever heard their language spoken," said the man.
"These people must have lived in this out-of-the-way valley for
ages and even if they had retained the original language of their
ancestors without change, which is doubtful, it must be some tongue
that is no longer spoken in the outer world."
At one point where a stream of water crossed the trail the party
halted while the lions and the men drank. They motioned to their
captives to drink too, and as Bertha Kircher and Smith-Oldwick,
lying prone upon the ground drank from the clear, cool water of the
rivulet, they were suddenly startled by the thunderous roar of a
lion a short distance ahead of them. Instantly the lions with them
set up a hideous response, moving restlessly to and fro with their
eyes always either turned in the direction from which the roar had
come or toward their masters, against whom the tawny beasts slunk.
The men loosened the sabers in their scabbards, the weapons that
had aroused Smith-Oldwick's curiosity as they had Tarzan's, and
grasped their spears more firmly.
Evidently there were lions and lions, and while they evinced no
fear of the beasts which accompanied them, it was quite evident
that the voice of the newcomer had an entirely different effect
upon them, although the men seemed less terrified than the lions.
Neither, however, showed any indication of an inclination to flee;
on the contrary the entire party advanced along the trail in the
direction of the menacing roars, and presently there appeared in
the center of the path a black lion of gigantic proportions. To
Smith-Oldwick and the girl he appeared to be the same lion that
they had encountered at the plane and from which Tarzan had rescued
them. But it was not Numa of the pit, although he resembled him
closely.
The black beast stood directly in the center of the trail lashing
his tail and growling menacingly at the advancing party. The men
urged on their own beasts, who growled and whined but hesitated
to charge. Evidently becoming impatient, and in full consciousness
of his might the intruder raised his tail stiffly erect and shot
forward. Several of the defending lions made a half-hearted attempt to
obstruct his passage, but they might as well have placed themselves
in the path of an express train, as hurling them aside the great
beast leaped straight for one of the men. A dozen spears were
launched at him and a dozen sabers leaped from their scabbards;
gleaming, razor-edged weapons they were, but for the instant rendered
futile by the terrific speed of the charging beast.
Two of the spears entering his body but served to further enrage
him as, with demoniacal roars, he sprang upon the hapless man he
had singled out for his prey. Scarcely pausing in his charge he
seized the fellow by the shoulder and, turning quickly at right
angles, leaped into the concealing foliage that flanked the trail,
and was gone, bearing his victim with him.
So quickly had the whole occurrence transpired that the formation
of the little party was scarcely altered. There had been no
opportunity for flight, even if it had been contemplated; and now
that the lion was gone with his prey the men made no move to pursue
him. They paused only long enough to recall the two or three of
their lions that had scattered and then resumed the march along
the trail.
"Might be an everyday occurrence from all the effect it has on
them," remarked Smith-Oldwick to the girl.
"Yes," she said. "They seem to be neither surprised nor disconcerted,
and evidently they are quite sure that the lion, having got what
he came for, will not molest them further."
"I had thought," said the Englishman, "that the lions of the Wamabo
country were about the most ferocious in existence, but they are
regular tabby cats by comparison with these big black fellows.
Did you ever see anything more utterly fearless or more terribly
irresistible than that charge?"
For a while, as they walked side by side, their thoughts and
conversation centered upon this latest experience, until the trail
emerging from the forest opened to their view a walled city and an
area of cultivated land. Neither could suppress an exclamation of
surprise.
"Why, that wall is a regular engineering job," exclaimed Smith-Oldwick.
"And look at the domes and minarets of the city beyond," cried the
girl. "There must be a civilized people beyond that wall. Possibly
we are fortunate to have fallen into their hands."
Smith-Oldwick shrugged his shoulders. "I hope so," he said, "though
I am not at all sure about people who travel about with lions and
are afraid of parrots. There must be something wrong with them."
The party followed the trail across the field to an arched gateway
which opened at the summons of one of their captors, who beat upon
the heavy wooden panels with his spear. Beyond, the gate opened
into a narrow street which seemed but a continuation of the jungle
trail leading from the forest. Buildings on either hand adjoined
the wall and fronted the narrow, winding street, which was only
visible for a short distance ahead. The houses were practically
all two-storied structures, the upper stories flush with the street
while the walls of the first story were set back some ten feet,
a series of simple columns and arches supporting the front of the
second story and forming an arcade on either side of the narrow
thoroughfare.
The pathway in the center of the street was unpaved, but the floors
of the arcades were cut stone of various shapes and sizes but all
carefully fitted and laid without mortar. These floors gave evidence
of great antiquity, there being a distinct depression down the
center as though the stone had been worn away by the passage of
countless sandaled feet during the ages that it had lain there.
There were few people astir at this early hour, and these were of
the same type as their captors. At first those whom they saw were
only men, but as they went deeper into the city they came upon a
few naked children playing in the soft dust of the roadway. Many
they passed showed the greatest surprise and curiosity in the
prisoners, and often made inquiries of the guards, which the two
assumed must have been in relation to themselves, while others
appeared not to notice them at all.
"I wish we could understand their bally language," exclaimed
Smith-Oldwick.
"Yes," said the girl, "I would like to ask them what they are going
to do with us."
"That would be interesting," said the man. "I have been doing
considerable wondering along that line myself."
"I don't like the way their canine teeth are filed," said the girl.
"It's too suggestive of some of the cannibals I have seen."
"You don't really believe they are cannibals, do you?" asked the
man. "You don't think white people are ever cannibals, do you?"
"Are these people white?" asked the girl.
"They're not Negroes, that's certain," rejoined the man. "Their
skin is yellow, but yet it doesn't resemble the Chinese exactly,
nor are any of their features Chinese."
It was at this juncture that they caught their first glimpse of a
native woman. She was similar in most respects to the men though
her stature was smaller and her figure more symmetrical. Her face
was more repulsive than that of the men, possibly because of the fact
that she was a woman, which rather accentuated the idiosyncrasies
of eyes, pendulous lip, pointed tusks and stiff, low-growing hair.
The latter was longer than that of the men and much heavier. It
hung about her shoulders and was confined by a colored bit of some
lacy fabric. Her single garment appeared to be nothing more than
a filmy scarf which was wound tightly around her body from below
her naked breasts, being caught up some way at the bottom near her
ankles. Bits of shiny metal resembling gold, ornamented both the
headdress and the skirt. Otherwise the woman was entirely without
jewelry. Her bare arms were slender and shapely and her hands and
feet well proportioned and symmetrical.
She came close to the party as they passed her, jabbering to the
guards who paid no attention to her. The prisoners had an opportunity
to observe her closely as she followed at their side for a short
distance.
"The figure of a houri," remarked Smith-Oldwick, "with the face of
an imbecile."
The street they followed was intersected at irregular intervals by
crossroads which, as they glanced down them, proved to be equally
as tortuous as that through which they were being conducted. The
houses varied but little in design. Occasionally there were bits
of color, or some attempt at other architectural ornamentation.
Through open windows and doors they could see that the walls of
the houses were very thick and that all apertures were quite small,
as though the people had built against extreme heat, which they
realized must have been necessary in this valley buried deep in an
African desert.
Ahead they occasionally caught glimpses of larger structures, and
as they approached them, came upon what was evidently a part of
the business section of the city. There were numerous small shops
and bazaars interspersed among the residences, and over the doors
of these were signs painted in characters strongly suggesting Greek
origin and yet it was not Greek as both the Englishman and the girl
knew.
Smith-Oldwick was by this time beginning to feel more acutely the
pain of his wounds and the consequent weakness that was greatly
aggravated by loss of blood. He staggered now occasionally and the
girl, seeing his plight, offered him her arm.
"No," he expostulated, "you have passed through too much yourself
to have any extra burden imposed upon you." But though he made a
valiant effort to keep up with their captors he occasionally lagged,
and upon one such occasion the guards for the first time showed
any disposition toward brutality.
It was a big fellow who walked at Smith-Oldwick's left. Several
times he took hold of the Englishman's arm and pushed him forward
not ungently, but when the captive lagged again and again the
fellow suddenly, and certainly with no just provocation, flew into
a perfect frenzy of rage. He leaped upon the wounded man, striking
him viciously with his fists and, bearing him to the ground, grasped
his throat in his left hand while with his right he drew his long
sharp saber. Screaming terribly he waved the blade above his head.
The others stopped and turned to look upon the encounter with no
particular show of interest. It was as though one of the party had
paused to readjust a sandal and the others merely waited until he
was ready to march on again.
But if their captors were indifferent, Bertha Kircher was not. The
close-set blazing eyes, the snarling fanged face, and the frightful
screams filled her with horror, while the brutal and wanton attack
upon the wounded man aroused within her the spirit of protection
for the weak that is inherent in all women. Forgetful of everything
other than that a weak and defenseless man was being brutally murdered
before her eyes, the girl cast aside discretion and, rushing to
Smith-Oldwick's assistance, seized the uplifted sword arm of the
shrieking creature upon the prostrate Englishman.
Clinging desperately to the fellow she surged backward with all her
weight and strength with the result that she overbalanced him and
sent him sprawling to the pavement upon his back. In his efforts
to save himself he relaxed his grasp upon the grip of his saber
which had no sooner fallen to the ground than it was seized upon by
the girl. Standing erect beside the prostrate form of the English
officer Bertha Kircher, the razor-edged weapon grasped firmly in
her hand, faced their captors.
She was a brave figure; even her soiled and torn riding togs and
disheveled hair detracted nothing from her appearance. The creature
she had felled scrambled quickly to his feet and in the instant
his whole demeanor changed. From demoniacal rage he became suddenly
convulsed with hysterical laughter although it was a question in
the girl's mind as to which was the more terrifying. His companions
stood looking on with vacuous grins upon their countenances, while
he from whom the girl had wrested the weapon leaped up and down
shrieking with laughter. If Bertha Kircher had needed further
evidence to assure her that they were in the hands of a mentally
deranged people the man's present actions would have been sufficient
to convince her. The sudden uncontrolled rage and now the equally
uncontrolled and mirthless laughter but emphasized the facial
attributes of idiocy.
Suddenly realizing how helpless she was in the event any one of the
men should seek to overpower her, and moved by a sudden revulsion
of feeling that brought on almost a nausea of disgust, the girl
hurled the weapon upon the ground at the feet of the laughing maniac
and, turning, kneeled beside the Englishman.
"It was wonderful of you," he said, "but you shouldn't have done
it. Don't antagonize them: I believe that they are all mad and you
know they say that one should always humor a madman."
She shook her head. "I couldn't see him kill you," she said.
A sudden light sprang to the man's eyes as he reached out a hand and
grasped the girl's fingers. "Do you care a little now?" he asked.
"Can't you tell me that you do--just a bit?"
She did not withdraw her hand from his but she shook her head
sadly. "Please don't," she said. "I am sorry that I can only like
you very much."
The light died from his eyes and his fingers relaxed their grasp on
hers. "Please forgive me," he murmured. "I intended waiting until
we got out of this mess and you were safe among your own people.
It must have been the shock or something like that, and seeing you
defending me as you did. Anyway, I couldn't help it and really it
doesn't make much difference what I say now, does it?"
"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.
He shrugged and smiled ruefully. "I will never leave this city
alive," he said. "I wouldn't mention it except that I realize that
you must know it as well as I. I was pretty badly torn up by the
lion and this fellow here has about finished me. There might be
some hope if we were among civilized people, but here with these
frightful creatures what care could we get even if they were
friendly?"
Bertha Kircher knew that he spoke the truth, and yet she could not
bring herself to an admission that Smith-Oldwick would die. She
was very fond of him, in fact her great regret was that she did
not love him, but she knew that she did not.
It seemed to her that it could be such an easy thing for any girl
to love Lieutenant Harold Percy Smith-Oldwick--an English officer
and a gentleman, the scion of an old family and himself a man of
ample means, young, good-looking and affable. What more could a
girl ask for than to have such a man love her and that she possessed
Smith-Oldwick's love there was no doubt in Bertha Kircher's mind.
She sighed, and then, laying her hand impulsively on his forehead,
she whispered, "Do not give up hope, though. Try to live for my
sake and for your sake I will try to love you."
It was as though new life had suddenly been injected into the
man's veins. His face lightened instantly and with strength that
he himself did not know he possessed he rose slowly to his feet,
albeit somewhat unsteadily. The girl helped him and supported him
after he had arisen.
For the moment they had been entirely unconscious of their
surroundings and now as she looked at their captors she saw that
they had fallen again into their almost habitual manner of stolid
indifference, and at a gesture from one of them the march was
resumed as though no untoward incident had occurred.
Bertha Kircher experienced a sudden reaction from the momentary
exaltation of her recent promise to the Englishman. She knew that
she had spoken more for him than for herself but now that it was
over she realized, as she had realized the moment before she had
spoken, that it was unlikely she would ever care for him the way
he wished. But what had she promised? Only that she would try to
love him. "And now?" she asked herself.
She realized that there might be little hope of their ever returning
to civilization. Even if these people should prove friendly and
willing to let them depart in peace, how were they to find their
way back to the coast? With Tarzan dead, as she fully believed him
after having seen his body lying lifeless at the mouth of the cave
when she had been dragged forth by her captor, there seemed no
power at their command which could guide them safely.
The two had scarcely mentioned the ape-man since their capture, for
each realized fully what his loss meant to them. They had compared
notes relative to those few exciting moments of the final attack
and capture and had found that they agreed perfectly upon all that
had occurred. Smith-Oldwick had even seen the lion leap upon Tarzan
at the instant that the former was awakened by the roars of the
charging beasts, and though the night had been dark, he had been
able to see that the body of the savage ape-man had never moved
from the instant that it had come down beneath the beast.
And so, if at other times within the past few weeks Bertha Kircher
had felt that her situation was particularly hopeless, she was now
ready to admit that hope was absolutely extinct.
The streets were beginning to fill with the strange men and women
of this strange city. Sometimes individuals would notice them
and seem to take a great interest in them, and again others would
pass with vacant stares, seemingly unconscious of their immediate
surroundings and paying no attention whatsoever to the prisoners.
Once they heard hideous screams up a side street, and looking they
saw a man in the throes of a demoniacal outburst of rage, similar
to that which they had witnessed in the recent attack upon
Smith-Oldwick. This creature was venting his insane rage upon a
child which he repeatedly struck and bit, pausing only long enough
to shriek at frequent intervals. Finally, just before they passed
out of sight the creature raised the limp body of the child high
above his head and cast it down with all his strength upon the
pavement, and then, wheeling and screaming madly at the top of his
lungs, he dashed headlong up the winding street.
Two women and several men had stood looking on at the cruel attack.
They were at too great a distance for the Europeans to know whether
their facial expressions portrayed pity or rage, but be that as it
may, none offered to interfere.
A few yards farther on a hideous hag leaned from a second story
window where she laughed and jibbered and made horrid grimaces at
all who passed her. Others went their ways apparently attending to
whatever duties called them, as soberly as the inhabitants of any
civilized community.
"God," muttered Smith-Oldwick, "what an awful place!"
The girl turned suddenly toward him. "You still have your pistol?"
she asked him.
"Yes," he replied. "I tucked it inside my shirt. They did not
search me and it was too dark for them to see whether I carried any
weapons or not. So I hid it in the hope that I might get through
with it."
She moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. "Save one
cartridge for me, please?" she begged.
Smith-Oldwick looked down at her and blinked his eyes very rapidly.
An unfamiliar and disconcerting moisture had come into them. He
had realized, of course, how bad a plight was theirs but somehow
it had seemed to affect him only: it did not seem possible that
anyone could harm this sweet and beautiful girl.
And that she should have to be destroyed--destroyed by him! It
was too hideous: it was unbelievable, unthinkable! If he had been
filled with apprehension before, he was doubly perturbed now.
"I don't believe I could do it, Bertha," he said.
"Not even to save me from something worse?" she asked.
He shook his head dismally. "I could never do it," he replied.
The street that they were following suddenly opened upon a wide
avenue, and before them spread a broad and beautiful lagoon, the
quiet surface of which mirrored the clear cerulean of the sky. Here
the aspect of all their surroundings changed. The buildings were
higher and much more pretentious in design and ornamentation.
The street itself was paved in mosaics of barbaric but stunningly
beautiful design. In the ornamentation of the buildings there was
considerable color and a great deal of what appeared to be gold
leaf. In all the decorations there was utilized in various ways the
conventional figure of the parrot, and, to a lesser extent, that
of the lion and the monkey.
Their captors led them along the pavement beside the lagoon for a
short distance and then through an arched doorway into one of the
buildings facing the avenue. Here, directly within the entrance
was a large room furnished with massive benches and tables, many of
which were elaborately hand carved with the figures of the inevitable
parrot, the lion, or the monkey, the parrot always predominating.
Behind one of the tables sat a man who differed in no way that the
captives could discover from those who accompanied them. Before
this person the party halted, and one of the men who had brought
them made what seemed to be an oral report. Whether they were
before a judge, a military officer, or a civil dignitary they could
not know, but evidently he was a man of authority, for, after
listening to whatever recital was being made to him the while
he closely scrutinized the two captives, he made a single futile
attempt to converse with them and then issued some curt orders to
him who had made the report.
Almost immediately two of the men approached Bertha Kircher and
signaled her to accompany them. Smith-Oldwick started to follow her
but was intercepted by one of their guards. The girl stopped then
and turned back, at the same time looking at the man at the table
and making signs with her hands, indicating, as best she could,
that she wished Smith-Oldwick to remain with her, but the fellow
only shook his head negatively and motioned to the guards to remove
her. The Englishman again attempted to follow but was restrained.
He was too weak and helpless even to make an attempt to enforce
his wishes. He thought of the pistol inside his shirt and then of
the futility of attempting to overcome an entire city with the few
rounds of ammunition left to him.
So far, with the single exception of the attack made upon him, they
had no reason to believe that they might not receive fair treatment
from their captors, and so he reasoned that it might be wiser to
avoid antagonizing them until such a time as he became thoroughly
convinced that their intentions were entirely hostile. He saw the
girl led from the building and just before she disappeared from
his view she turned and waved her hand to him:
"Good luck!" she cried, and was gone.
The lions that had entered the building with the party had, during
their examination by the man at the table, been driven from the
apartment through a doorway behind him. Toward this same doorway
two of the men now led Smith-Oldwick. He found himself in a long
corridor from the sides of which other doorways opened, presumably
into other apartments of the building. At the far end of the corridor
he saw a heavy grating beyond which appeared an open courtyard.
Into this courtyard the prisoner was conducted, and as he entered
it with the two guards he found himself in an opening which was
bounded by the inner walls of the building. It was in the nature
of a garden in which a number of trees and flowering shrubs grew.
Beneath several of the trees were benches and there was a bench
along the south wall, but what aroused his most immediate attention
was the fact that the lions who had assisted in their capture and
who had accompanied them upon the return to the city, lay sprawled
about upon the ground or wandered restlessly to and fro.
Just inside the gate his guard halted. The two men exchanged a few
words and then turned and reentered the corridor. The Englishman
was horror-stricken as the full realization of his terrible plight
forced itself upon his tired brain. He turned and seized the grating
in an attempt to open it and gain the safety of the corridor, but
he found it securely locked against his every effort, and then he
called aloud to the retreating figure of the men within. The only
reply he received was a high-pitched, mirthless laugh, and then
the two passed through the doorway at the far end of the corridor
and he was alone with the lions.