Chapter 24
How Tarzan Came Again to Opar
When Clayton returned to the shelter and found Jane Porter was missing,he became frantic with fear and grief. He found Monsieur Thuran quiterational, the fever having left him with the surprising suddennesswhich is one of its peculiarities. The Russian, weak and exhausted,still lay upon his bed of grasses within the shelter.
When Clayton asked him about the girl he seemed surprised to know thatshe was not there.
"I have heard nothing unusual," he said. "But then I have beenunconscious much of the time."
Had it not been for the man's very evident weakness, Clayton shouldhave suspected him of having sinister knowledge of the girl'swhereabouts; but he could see that Thuran lacked sufficient vitalityeven to descend, unaided, from the shelter. He could not, in hispresent physical condition, have harmed the girl, nor could he haveclimbed the rude ladder back to the shelter.
Until dark the Englishman searched the nearby jungle for a trace of themissing one or a sign of the trail of her abductor. But though thespoor left by the fifty frightful men, unversed in woodcraft as theywere, would have been as plain to the densest denizen of the jungle asa city street to the Englishman, yet he crossed and recrossed it twentytimes without observing the slightest indication that many men hadpassed that way but a few short hours since.
As he searched, Clayton continued to call the girl's name aloud, butthe only result of this was to attract Numa, the lion. Fortunately theman saw the shadowy form worming its way toward him in time to climbinto the branches of a tree before the beast was close enough to reachhim. This put an end to his search for the balance of the afternoon,as the lion paced back and forth beneath him until dark.
Even after the beast had left, Clayton dared not descend into the awfulblackness beneath him, and so he spent a terrifying and hideous nightin the tree. The next morning he returned to the beach, relinquishingthe last hope of succoring Jane Porter.
During the week that followed, Monsieur Thuran rapidly regained hisstrength, lying in the shelter while Clayton hunted food for both. Themen never spoke except as necessity demanded. Clayton now occupied thesection of the shelter which had been reserved for Jane Porter, andonly saw the Russian when he took food or water to him, or performedthe other kindly offices which common humanity required.
When Thuran was again able to descend in search of food, Clayton wasstricken with fever. For days he lay tossing in delirium andsuffering, but not once did the Russian come near him. Food theEnglishman could not have eaten, but his craving for water amountedpractically to torture. Between the recurrent attacks of delirium,weak though he was, he managed to reach the brook once a day and fill atiny can that had been among the few appointments of the lifeboat.
Thuran watched him on these occasions with an expression of malignantpleasure--he seemed really to enjoy the suffering of the man who,despite the just contempt in which he held him, had ministered to himto the best of his ability while he lay suffering the same agonies. Atlast Clayton became so weak that he was no longer able to descend fromthe shelter. For a day he suffered for water without appealing to theRussian, but finally, unable to endure it longer, he asked Thuran tofetch him a drink. The Russian came to the entrance to Clayton's room,a dish of water in his hand. A nasty grin contorted his features.
"Here is water," he said. "But first let me remind you that youmaligned me before the girl--that you kept her to yourself, and wouldnot share her with me--"
Clayton interrupted him. "Stop!" he cried. "Stop! What manner of curare you that you traduce the character of a good woman whom we believedead! God! I was a fool ever to let you live--you are not fit to liveeven in this vile land."
"Here is your water," said the Russian. "All you will get," and heraised the basin to his lips and drank; what was left he threw out uponthe ground below. Then he turned and left the sick man.
Clayton rolled over, and, burying his face in his arms, gave up thebattle.
The next day Thuran determined to set out toward the north along thecoast, for he knew that eventually he must come to the habitations ofcivilized men--at least he could be no worse off than he was here, and,furthermore, the ravings of the dying Englishman were getting on hisnerves. So he stole Clayton's spear and set off upon his journey. Hewould have killed the sick man before he left had it not occurred tohim that it would really have been a kindness to do so.
That same day he came to a little cabin by the beach, and his heartfilled with renewed hope as he saw this evidence of the proximity ofcivilization, for he thought it but the outpost of a nearby settlement.Had he known to whom it belonged, and that its owner was at that verymoment but a few miles inland, Nikolas Rokoff would have fled the placeas he would a pestilence. But he did not know, and so he remained fora few days to enjoy the security and comparative comforts of the cabin.Then he took up his northward journey once more.
In Lord Tennington's camp preparations were going forward to buildpermanent quarters, and then to send out an expedition of a few men tothe north in search of relief.
As the days had passed without bringing the longed-for succor, hopethat Jane Porter, Clayton, and Monsieur Thuran had been rescued beganto die. No one spoke of the matter longer to Professor Porter, and hewas so immersed in his scientific dreaming that he was not aware of theelapse of time.
Occasionally he would remark that within a few days they shouldcertainly see a steamer drop anchor off their shore, and that then theyshould all be reunited happily. Sometimes he spoke of it as a train,and wondered if it were being delayed by snowstorms.
"If I didn't know the dear old fellow so well by now," Tenningtonremarked to Miss Strong, "I should be quite certain that hewas--er--not quite right, don't you know." "If it were not so patheticit would be ridiculous," said the girl, sadly. "I, who have known himall my life, know how he worships Jane; but to others it must seem thathe is perfectly callous to her fate. It is only that he is soabsolutely impractical that he cannot conceive of so real a thing asdeath unless nearly certain proof of it is thrust upon him."
"You'd never guess what he was about yesterday," continued Tennington."I was coming in alone from a little hunt when I met him walkingrapidly along the game trail that I was following back to camp. Hishands were clasped beneath the tails of his long black coat, and histop hat was set firmly down upon his head, as with eyes bent upon theground he hastened on, probably to some sudden death had I notintercepted him.
"'Why, where in the world are you bound, professor?' I asked him. 'Iam going into town, Lord Tennington,' he said, as seriously aspossible, 'to complain to the postmaster about the rural free deliveryservice we are suffering from here. Why, sir, I haven't had a piece ofmail in weeks. There should be several letters for me from Jane. Thematter must be reported to Washington at once.'
"And would you believe it, Miss Strong," continued Tennington, "I hadthe very deuce of a job to convince the old fellow that there was notonly no rural free delivery, but no town, and that he was not even onthe same continent as Washington, nor in the same hemisphere.
"When he did realize he commenced to worry about his daughter--I thinkit is the first time that he really has appreciated our position here,or the fact that Miss Porter may not have been rescued."
"I hate to think about it," said the girl, "and yet I can think ofnothing else than the absent members of our party."
"Let us hope for the best," replied Tennington. "You yourself have setus each a splendid example of bravery, for in a way your loss has beenthe greatest."
"Yes," she replied; "I could have loved Jane Porter no more had shebeen my own sister."
Tennington did not show the surprise he felt. That was not at all whathe meant. He had been much with this fair daughter of Maryland sincethe wreck of the LADY ALICE, and it had recently come to him that hehad grown much more fond of her than would prove good for the peace ofhis mind, for he recalled almost constantly now the confidence whichMonsieur Th
uran had imparted to him that he and Miss Strong wereengaged. He wondered if, after all, Thuran had been quite accurate inhis statement. He had never seen the slightest indication on thegirl's part of more than ordinary friendship.
"And then in Monsieur Thuran's loss, if they are lost, you would suffera severe bereavement," he ventured.
She looked up at him quickly. "Monsieur Thuran had become a very dearfriend," she said. "I liked him very much, though I have known him buta short time."
"Then you were not engaged to marry him?" he blurted out. "Heavens,no!" she cried. "I did not care for him at all in that way."
There was something that Lord Tennington wanted to say to HazelStrong--he wanted very badly to say it, and to say it at once; butsomehow the words stuck in his throat. He started lamely a couple oftimes, cleared his throat, became red in the face, and finally ended byremarking that he hoped the cabins would be finished before the rainyseason commenced.
But, though he did not know it, he had conveyed to the girl the verymessage he intended, and it left her happy--happier than she had everbefore been in all her life.
Just then further conversation was interrupted by the sight of astrange and terrible-looking figure which emerged from the jungle justsouth of the camp. Tennington and the girl saw it at the same time.The Englishman reached for his revolver, but when the half-naked,bearded creature called his name aloud and came running toward them hedropped his hand and advanced to meet it.
None would have recognized in the filthy, emaciated creature, coveredby a single garment of small skins, the immaculate Monsieur Thuran theparty had last seen upon the deck of the LADY ALICE.
Before the other members of the little community were apprised of hispresence Tennington and Miss Strong questioned him regarding the otheroccupants of the missing boat.
"They are all dead," replied Thuran. "The three sailors died before wemade land. Miss Porter was carried off into the jungle by some wildanimal while I was lying delirious with fever. Clayton died of thesame fever but a few days since. And to think that all this time wehave been separated by but a few miles--scarcely a day's march. It isterrible!"
How long Jane Porter lay in the darkness of the vault beneath thetemple in the ancient city of Opar she did not know. For a time shewas delirious with fever, but after this passed she commenced slowly toregain her strength. Every day the woman who brought her food beckonedto her to arise, but for many days the girl could only shake her headto indicate that she was too weak.
But eventually she was able to gain her feet, and then to stagger a fewsteps by supporting herself with one hand upon the wall. Her captorsnow watched her with increasing interest. The day was approaching, andthe victim was gaining in strength.
Presently the day came, and a young woman whom Jane Porter had not seenbefore came with several others to her dungeon. Here some sort ofceremony was performed--that it was of a religious nature the girl wassure, and so she took new heart, and rejoiced that she had fallen amongpeople upon whom the refining and softening influences of religionevidently had fallen. They would treat her humanely--of that she wasnow quite sure.
And so when they led her from her dungeon, through long, darkcorridors, and up a flight of concrete steps to a brilliant courtyard,she went willingly, even gladly--for was she not among the servants ofGod? It might be, of course, that their interpretation of the supremebeing differed from her own, but that they owned a god was sufficientevidence to her that they were kind and good.
But when she saw a stone altar in the center of the courtyard, anddark-brown stains upon it and the nearby concrete of the floor, shebegan to wonder and to doubt. And as they stooped and bound herankles, and secured her wrists behind her, her doubts were turned tofear. A moment later, as she was lifted and placed supine across thealtar's top, hope left her entirely, and she trembled in an agony offright.
During the grotesque dance of the votaries which followed, she layfrozen in horror, nor did she require the sight of the thin blade inthe hands of the high priestess as it rose slowly above her toenlighten her further as to her doom.
As the hand began its descent, Jane Porter closed her eyes and sent upa silent prayer to the Maker she was so soon to face--then shesuccumbed to the strain upon her tired nerves, and swooned.
Day and night Tarzan of the Apes raced through the primeval foresttoward the ruined city in which he was positive the woman he loved layeither a prisoner or dead.
In a day and a night he covered the same distance that the fiftyfrightful men had taken the better part of a week to traverse, forTarzan of the Apes traveled along the middle terrace high above thetangled obstacles that impede progress upon the ground.
The story the young bull ape had told made it clear to him that thegirl captive had been Jane Porter, for there was not another smallwhite "she" in all the jungle. The "bulls" he had recognized from theape's crude description as the grotesque parodies upon humanity whoinhabit the ruins of Opar. And the girl's fate he could picture asplainly as though he were an eyewitness to it. When they would lay heracross that trim altar he could not guess, but that her dear, frailbody would eventually find its way there he was confident.
But, finally, after what seemed long ages to the impatient ape-man, hetopped the barrier cliffs that hemmed the desolate valley, and belowhim lay the grim and awful ruins of the now hideous city of Opar. At arapid trot he started across the dry and dusty, bowlder-strewn groundtoward the goal of his desires.
Would he be in time to rescue? He hoped against hope. At least hecould be revenged, and in his wrath it seemed to him that he was equalto the task of wiping out the entire population of that terrible city.It was nearly noon when he reached the great bowlder at the top ofwhich terminated the secret passage to the pits beneath the city. Likea cat he scaled the precipitous sides of the frowning granite KOPJE. Amoment later he was running through the darkness of the long, straighttunnel that led to the treasure vault. Through this he passed, then onand on until at last he came to the well-like shaft upon the oppositeside of which lay the dungeon with the false wall.
As he paused a moment upon the brink of the well a faint sound came tohim through the opening above. His quick ears caught and translatedit--it was the dance of death that preceded a sacrifice, and thesingsong ritual of the high priestess. He could even recognize thewoman's voice. Could it be that the ceremony marked the very thing hehad so hastened to prevent? A wave of horror swept over him. Was he,after all, to be just a moment too late? Like a frightened deer heleaped across the narrow chasm to the continuation of the passagebeyond. At the false wall he tore like one possessed to demolish thebarrier that confronted him--with giant muscles he forced the opening,thrusting his head and shoulders through the first small hole he made,and carrying the balance of the wall with him, to clatter resoundinglyupon the cement floor of the dungeon.
With a single leap he cleared the length of the chamber and threwhimself against the ancient door. But here he stopped. The mightybars upon the other side were proof even against such muscles as his.It needed but a moment's effort to convince him of the futility ofendeavoring to force that impregnable barrier. There was but one otherway, and that led back through the long tunnels to the bowlder a milebeyond the city's walls, and then back across the open as he had cometo the city first with his Waziri.
He realized that to retrace his steps and enter the city from aboveground would mean that he would be too late to save the girl, if itwere indeed she who lay upon the sacrificial altar above him. Butthere seemed no other way, and so he turned and ran swiftly back intothe passageway beyond the broken wall. At the well he heard again themonotonous voice of the high priestess, and, as he glanced aloft, theopening, twenty feet above, seemed so near that he was tempted to leapfor it in a mad endeavor to reach the inner courtyard that lay so near.
If he could but get one end of his grass rope caught upon someprojection at the top of that tantalizing aperture! In the instant'spause and thought
an idea occurred to him. He would attempt it.Turning back to the tumbled wall, he seized one of the large, flatslabs that had composed it. Hastily making one end of his rope fast tothe piece of granite, he returned to the shaft, and, coiling thebalance of the rope on the floor beside him, the ape-man took the heavyslab in both hands, and, swinging it several times to get the distanceand the direction fixed, he let the weight fly up at a slight angle, sothat, instead of falling straight back into the shaft again, it grazedthe far edge, tumbling over into the court beyond.
Tarzan dragged for a moment upon the slack end of the rope until hefelt that the stone was lodged with fair security at the shaft's top,then he swung out over the black depths beneath. The moment his fullweight came upon the rope he felt it slip from above. He waited therein awful suspense as it dropped in little jerks, inch by inch. Thestone was being dragged up the outside of the masonry surrounding thetop of the shaft--would it catch at the very edge, or would his weightdrag it over to fall upon him as he hurtled into the unknown depthsbelow?