Chapter 17
The White Chief of the Waziri
When the eyes of the black Manyuema savage fell upon the strangeapparition that confronted him with menacing knife they went wide inhorror. He forgot the gun within his hands; he even forgot to cryout--his one thought was to escape this fearsome-looking white savage,this giant of a man upon whose massive rolling muscles and mighty chestthe flickering firelight played.
But before he could turn Tarzan was upon him, and then the sentrythought to scream for aid, but it was too late. A great hand was uponhis windpipe, and he was being borne to the earth. He battledfuriously but futilely--with the grim tenacity of a bulldog those awfulfingers were clinging to his throat. Swiftly and surely life was beingchoked from him. His eyes bulged, his tongue protruded, his faceturned to a ghastly purplish hue--there was a convulsive tremor of thestiffening muscles, and the Manyuema sentry lay quite still.
The ape-man threw the body across one of his broad shoulders and,gathering up the fellow's gun, trotted silently up the sleeping villagestreet toward the tree that gave him such easy ingress to the palisadedvillage. He bore the dead sentry into the midst of the leafy mazeabove.
First he stripped the body of cartridge belt and such ornaments as hecraved, wedging it into a convenient crotch while his nimble fingersran over it in search of the loot he could not plainly see in the dark.When he had finished he took the gun that had belonged to the man, andwalked far out upon a limb, from the end of which he could obtain abetter view of the huts. Drawing a careful bead on the beehivestructure in which he knew the chief Arabs to be, he pulled thetrigger. Almost instantly there was an answering groan. Tarzansmiled. He had made another lucky hit.
Following the shot there was a moment's silence in the camp, and thenManyuema and Arab came pouring from the huts like a swarm of angryhornets; but if the truth were known they were even more frightenedthan they were angry. The strain of the preceding day had wrought uponthe fears of both black and white, and now this single shot in thenight conjured all manner of terrible conjectures in their terrifiedminds.
When they discovered that their sentry had disappeared, their fearswere in no way allayed, and as though to bolster their courage bywarlike actions, they began to fire rapidly at the barred gates of thevillage, although no enemy was in sight. Tarzan took advantage of thedeafening roar of this fusillade to fire into the mob beneath him.
No one heard his shot above the din of rattling musketry in the street,but some who were standing close saw one of their number crumplesuddenly to the earth. When they leaned over him he was dead. Theywere panic-stricken, and it took all the brutal authority of the Arabsto keep the Manyuema from rushing helter-skelter into thejungle--anywhere to escape from this terrible village.
After a time they commenced to quiet down, and as no further mysteriousdeaths occurred among them they took heart again. But it was ashort-lived respite, for just as they had concluded that they would notbe disturbed again Tarzan gave voice to a weird moan, and as theraiders looked up in the direction from which the sound seemed to come,the ape-man, who stood swinging the dead body of the sentry gently toand fro, suddenly shot the corpse far out above their heads.
With howls of alarm the throng broke in all directions to escape thisnew and terrible creature who seemed to be springing upon them. Totheir fear-distorted imaginations the body of the sentry, falling withwide-sprawled arms and legs, assumed the likeness of a great beast ofprey. In their anxiety to escape, many of the blacks scaled thepalisade, while others tore down the bars from the gates and rushedmadly across the clearing toward the jungle.
For a time no one turned back toward the thing that had frightenedthem, but Tarzan knew that they would in a moment, and when theydiscovered that it was but the dead body of their sentry, while theywould doubtless be still further terrified, he had a rather definiteidea as to what they would do, and so he faded silently away toward thesouth, taking the moonlit upper terrace back toward the camp of theWaziri.
Presently one of the Arabs turned and saw that the thing that hadleaped from the tree upon them lay still and quiet where it had fallenin the center of the village street. Cautiously he crept back towardit until he saw that it was but a man. A moment later he was besidethe figure, and in another had recognized it as the corpse of theManyuema who had stood on guard at the village gate.
His companions rapidly gathered around at his call, and after amoment's excited conversation they did precisely what Tarzan hadreasoned they would. Raising their guns to their shoulders, theypoured volley after volley into the tree from which the corpse had beenthrown--had Tarzan remained there he would have been riddled by ahundred bullets.
When the Arabs and Manyuema discovered that the only marks of violenceupon the body of their dead comrade were giant finger prints upon hisswollen throat they were again thrown into deeper apprehension anddespair. That they were not even safe within a palisaded village atnight came as a distinct shock to them. That an enemy could enter intothe midst of their camp and kill their sentry with bare hands seemedoutside the bounds of reason, and so the superstitious Manyuemacommenced to attribute their ill luck to supernatural causes; nor werethe Arabs able to offer any better explanation.
With at least fifty of their number flying through the black jungle,and without the slightest knowledge of when their uncanny foemen mightresume the cold-blooded slaughter they had commenced, it was adesperate band of cut-throats that waited sleeplessly for the dawn.Only on the promise of the Arabs that they would leave the village atdaybreak, and hasten onward toward their own land, would the remainingManyuema consent to stay at the village a moment longer. Not even fearof their cruel masters was sufficient to overcome this new terror.
And so it was that when Tarzan and his warriors returned to the attackthe next morning they found the raiders prepared to march out of thevillage. The Manyuema were laden with stolen ivory. As Tarzan saw ithe grinned, for he knew that they would not carry it far. Then he sawsomething which caused him anxiety--a number of the Manyuema werelighting torches in the remnant of the camp-fire. They were about tofire the village.
Tarzan was perched in a tall tree some hundred yards from the palisade.Making a trumpet of his hands, he called loudly in the Arab tongue:"Do not fire the huts, or we shall kill you all! Do not fire the huts,or we shall kill you all!"
A dozen times he repeated it. The Manyuema hesitated, then one of themflung his torch into the campfire. The others were about to do thesame when an Arab sprung upon them with a stick, beating them towardthe huts. Tarzan could see that he was commanding them to fire thelittle thatched dwellings. Then he stood erect upon the swaying brancha hundred feet above the ground, and, raising one of the Arab guns tohis shoulder, took careful aim and fired. With the report the Arab whowas urging on his men to burn the village fell in his tracks, and theManyuema threw away their torches and fled from the village. The lastTarzan saw of them they were racing toward the jungle, while theirformer masters knelt upon the ground and fired at them.
But however angry the Arabs might have been at the insubordination oftheir slaves, they were at least convinced that it would be the betterpart of wisdom to forego the pleasure of firing the village that hadgiven them two such nasty receptions. In their hearts, however, theyswore to return again with such force as would enable them to sweep theentire country for miles around, until no vestige of human liferemained.
They had looked in vain for the owner of the voice which had frightenedoff the men who had been detailed to put the torch to the huts, but noteven the keenest eye among them had been able to locate him. They hadseen the puff of smoke from the tree following the shot that broughtdown the Arab, but, though a volley had immediately been loosed intoits foliage, there had been no indication that it had been effective.
Tarzan was too intelligent to be caught in any such trap, and so thereport of his shot had scarcely died away before the ape-man was on theground and racing for another tree a hundred ya
rds away. Here he againfound a suitable perch from which he could watch the preparations ofthe raiders. It occurred to him that he might have considerable morefun with them, so again he called to them through his improvisedtrumpet.
"Leave the ivory!" he cried. "Leave the ivory! Dead men have no usefor ivory!"
Some of the Manyuema started to lay down their loads, but this wasaltogether too much for the avaricious Arabs. With loud shouts andcurses they aimed their guns full upon the bearers, threatening instantdeath to any who might lay down his load. They could give up firingthe village, but the thought of abandoning this enormous fortune inivory was quite beyond their conception--better death than that.
And so they marched out of the village of the Waziri, and on theshoulders of their slaves was the ivory ransom of a score of kings.Toward the north they marched, back toward their savage settlement inthe wild and unknown country which lies back from the Kongo in theuttermost depths of The Great Forest, and on either side of themtraveled an invisible and relentless foe.
Under Tarzan's guidance the black Waziri warriors stationed themselvesalong the trail on either side in the densest underbrush. They stoodat far intervals, and, as the column passed, a single arrow or a heavyspear, well aimed, would pierce a Manyuema or an Arab. Then the Waziriwould melt into the distance and run ahead to take his stand fartheron. They did not strike unless success were sure and the danger ofdetection almost nothing, and so the arrows and the spears were few andfar between, but so persistent and inevitable that the slow-movingcolumn of heavy-laden raiders was in a constant state of panic--panicat the uncertainty of who the next would be to fall, and when.
It was with the greatest difficulty that the Arabs prevented their mena dozen times from throwing away their burdens and fleeing likefrightened rabbits up the trail toward the north. And so the day woreon--a frightful nightmare of a day for the raiders--a day of weary butwell-repaid work for the Waziri. At night the Arabs constructed a rudeBOMA in a little clearing by a river, and went into camp.
At intervals during the night a rifle would bark close above theirheads, and one of the dozen sentries which they now had posted wouldtumble to the ground. Such a condition was insupportable, for they sawthat by means of these hideous tactics they would be completely wipedout, one by one, without inflicting a single death upon their enemy.But yet, with the persistent avariciousness of the white man, the Arabsclung to their loot, and when morning came forced the demoralizedManyuema to take up their burdens of death and stagger on into thejungle.
For three days the withering column kept up its frightful march. Eachhour was marked by its deadly arrow or cruel spear. The nights weremade hideous by the barking of the invisible gun that made sentry dutyequivalent to a death sentence.
On the morning of the fourth day the Arabs were compelled to shoot twoof their blacks before they could compel the balance to take up thehated ivory, and as they did so a voice rang out, clear and strong,from the jungle: "Today you die, oh, Manyuema, unless you lay down theivory. Fall upon your cruel masters and kill them! You have guns, whydo you not use them? Kill the Arabs, and we will not harm you. Wewill take you back to our village and feed you, and lead you out of ourcountry in safety and in peace. Lay down the ivory, and fall upon yourmasters--we will help you. Else you die!"
As the voice died down the raiders stood as though turned to stone.The Arabs eyed their Manyuema slaves; the slaves looked first at one oftheir fellows, and then at another--they were but waiting for some oneto take the initiative. There were some thirty Arabs left, and aboutone hundred and fifty blacks. All were armed--even those who wereacting as porters had their rifles slung across their backs.
The Arabs drew together. The sheik ordered the Manyuema to take up themarch, and as he spoke he cocked his rifle and raised it. But at thesame instant one of the blacks threw down his load, and, snatching hisrifle from his back, fired point-blank at the group of Arabs. In aninstant the camp was a cursing, howling mass of demons, fighting withguns and knives and pistols. The Arabs stood together, and defendedtheir lives valiantly, but with the rain of lead that poured upon themfrom their own slaves, and the shower of arrows and spears which nowleaped from the surrounding jungle aimed solely at them, there waslittle question from the first what the outcome would be. In tenminutes from the time the first porter had thrown down his load thelast of the Arabs lay dead.
When the firing had ceased Tarzan spoke again to the Manyuema:
"Take up our ivory, and return it to our village, from whence you stoleit. We shall not harm you."
For a moment the Manyuema hesitated. They had no stomach to retracethat difficult three days' trail. They talked together in lowwhispers, and one turned toward the jungle, calling aloud to the voicethat had spoken to them from out of the foliage.
"How do we know that when you have us in your village you will not killus all?" he asked.
"You do not know," replied Tarzan, "other than that we have promisednot to harm you if you will return our ivory to us. But this you doknow, that it lies within our power to kill you all if you do notreturn as we direct, and are we not more likely to do so if you angerus than if you do as we bid?"
"Who are you that speaks the tongue of our Arab masters?" cried theManyuema spokesman. "Let us see you, and then we shall give you ouranswer."
Tarzan stepped out of the jungle a dozen paces from them.
"Look!" he said. When they saw that he was white they were filled withawe, for never had they seen a white savage before, and at his greatmuscles and giant frame they were struck with wonder and admiration.
"You may trust me," said Tarzan. "So long as you do as I tell you, andharm none of my people, we shall do you no hurt. Will you take up ourivory and return in peace to our village, or shall we follow along yourtrail toward the north as we have followed for the past three days?"
The recollection of the horrid days that had just passed was the thingthat finally decided the Manyuema, and so, after a short conference,they took up their burdens and set off to retrace their steps towardthe village of the Waziri. At the end of the third day they marchedinto the village gate, and were greeted by the survivors of the recentmassacre, to whom Tarzan had sent a messenger in their temporary campto the south on the day that the raiders had quitted the village,telling them that they might return in safety.
It took all the mastery and persuasion that Tarzan possessed to preventthe Waziri falling on the Manyuema tooth and nail, and tearing them topieces, but when he had explained that he had given his word that theywould not be molested if they carried the ivory back to the spot fromwhich they had stolen it, and had further impressed upon his peoplethat they owed their entire victory to him, they finally acceded to hisdemands, and allowed the cannibals to rest in peace within theirpalisade.
That night the village warriors held a big palaver to celebrate theirvictories, and to choose a new chief. Since old Waziri's death Tarzanhad been directing the warriors in battle, and the temporary commandhad been tacitly conceded to him. There had been no time to choose anew chief from among their own number, and, in fact, so remarkablysuccessful had they been under the ape-man's generalship that they hadhad no wish to delegate the supreme authority to another for fear thatwhat they already had gained might be lost. They had so recently seenthe results of running counter to this savage white man's advice in thedisastrous charge ordered by Waziri, in which he himself had died, thatit had not been difficult for them to accept Tarzan's authority asfinal.
The principal warriors sat in a circle about a small fire to discussthe relative merits of whomever might be suggested as old Waziri'ssuccessor. It was Busuli who spoke first:
"Since Waziri is dead, leaving no son, there is but one among us whomwe know from experience is fitted to make us a good king. There isonly one who has proved that he can successfully lead us against theguns of the white man, and bring us easy victory without the loss of asingle life. There is only one, and that is the white man who has
ledus for the past few days," and Busuli sprang to his feet, and withuplifted spear and half-bent, crouching body commenced to dance slowlyabout Tarzan, chanting in time to his steps: "Waziri, king of theWaziri; Waziri, killer of Arabs; Waziri, king of the Waziri."
One by one the other warriors signified their acceptance of Tarzan astheir king by joining in the solemn dance. The women came and squattedabout the rim of the circle, beating upon tom-toms, clapping theirhands in time to the steps of the dancers, and joining in the chant ofthe warriors. In the center of the circle sat Tarzan of theApes--Waziri, king of the Waziri, for, like his predecessor, he was totake the name of his tribe as his own.
Faster and faster grew the pace of the dancers, louder and louder theirwild and savage shouts. The women rose and fell in unison, shriekingnow at the tops of their voices. The spears were brandishing fiercely,and as the dancers stooped down and beat their shields upon thehard-tramped earth of the village street the whole sight was asterribly primeval and savage as though it were being staged in the dimdawn of humanity, countless ages in the past.
As the excitement waxed the ape-man sprang to his feet and joined inthe wild ceremony. In the center of the circle of glittering blackbodies he leaped and roared and shook his heavy spear in the same madabandon that enthralled his fellow savages. The last remnant of hiscivilization was forgotten--he was a primitive man to the fullest now;reveling in the freedom of the fierce, wild life he loved, gloating inhis kingship among these wild blacks.
Ah, if Olga de Coude had but seen him then--could she have recognizedthe well-dressed, quiet young man whose well-bred face andirreproachable manners had so captivated her but a few short monthsago? And Jane Porter! Would she have still loved this savage warriorchieftain, dancing naked among his naked savage subjects? And D'Arnot!Could D'Arnot have believed that this was the same man he hadintroduced into half a dozen of the most select clubs of Paris? Whatwould his fellow peers in the House of Lords have said had one pointedto this dancing giant, with his barbaric headdress and his metalornaments, and said: "There, my lords, is John Clayton, Lord Greystoke."
And so Tarzan of the Apes came into a real kingship among men--slowlybut surely was he following the evolution of his ancestors, for had henot started at the very bottom?