Chapter XXV
The Outpost of the World
With the report of his gun D'Arnot saw the door fly open and the figureof a man pitch headlong within onto the cabin floor.
The Frenchman in his panic raised his gun to fire again into theprostrate form, but suddenly in the half dusk of the open door he sawthat the man was white and in another instant realized that he had shothis friend and protector, Tarzan of the Apes.
With a cry of anguish D'Arnot sprang to the ape-man's side, andkneeling, lifted the latter's head in his arms--calling Tarzan's namealoud.
There was no response, and then D'Arnot placed his ear above the man'sheart. To his joy he heard its steady beating beneath.
Carefully he lifted Tarzan to the cot, and then, after closing andbolting the door, he lighted one of the lamps and examined the wound.
The bullet had struck a glancing blow upon the skull. There was anugly flesh wound, but no signs of a fracture of the skull.
D'Arnot breathed a sigh of relief, and went about bathing the bloodfrom Tarzan's face.
Soon the cool water revived him, and presently he opened his eyes tolook in questioning surprise at D'Arnot.
The latter had bound the wound with pieces of cloth, and as he saw thatTarzan had regained consciousness he arose and going to the table wrotea message, which he handed to the ape-man, explaining the terriblemistake he had made and how thankful he was that the wound was not moreserious.
Tarzan, after reading the message, sat on the edge of the couch andlaughed.
It is nothing, he said in French, and then, his vocabulary failinghim, he wrote:
You should have seen what Bolgani did to me, and Kerchak, and Terkoz,before I killed them--then you would laugh at such a little scratch.
D'Arnot handed Tarzan the two messages that had been left for him.
Tarzan read the first one through with a look of sorrow on his face.The second one he turned over and over, searching for an opening--hehad never seen a sealed envelope before. At length he handed it toD'Arnot.
The Frenchman had been watching him, and knew that Tarzan was puzzledover the envelope. How strange it seemed that to a full-grown whiteman an envelope was a mystery. D'Arnot opened it and handed the letterback to Tarzan.
Sitting on a camp stool the ape-man spread the written sheet before himand read:
TO TARZAN OF THE APES:
Before I leave let me add my thanks to those of Mr. Clayton for thekindness you have shown in permitting us the use of your cabin.
That you never came to make friends with us has been a great regret tous. We should have liked so much to have seen and thanked our host.
There is another I should like to thank also, but he did not come back,though I cannot believe that he is dead.
I do not know his name. He is the great white giant who wore thediamond locket upon his breast.
If you know him and can speak his language carry my thanks to him, andtell him that I waited seven days for him to return.
Tell him, also, that in my home in America, in the city of Baltimore,there will always be a welcome for him if he cares to come.
I found a note you wrote me lying among the leaves beneath a tree nearthe cabin. I do not know how you learned to love me, who have neverspoken to me, and I am very sorry if it is true, for I have alreadygiven my heart to another.
But know that I am always your friend, JANE PORTER.
Tarzan sat with gaze fixed upon the floor for nearly an hour. It wasevident to him from the notes that they did not know that he and Tarzanof the Apes were one and the same.
I have given my heart to another, he repeated over and over again tohimself.
Then she did not love him! How could she have pretended love, andraised him to such a pinnacle of hope only to cast him down to suchutter depths of despair!
Maybe her kisses were only signs of friendship. How did he know, whoknew nothing of the customs of human beings?
Suddenly he arose, and, bidding D'Arnot good night as he had learned todo, threw himself upon the couch of ferns that had been Jane Porter's.
D'Arnot extinguished the lamp, and lay down upon the cot.
For a week they did little but rest, D'Arnot coaching Tarzan in French.At the end of that time the two men could converse quite easily.
One night, as they were sitting within the cabin before retiring,Tarzan turned to D'Arnot.
Where is America? he said.
D'Arnot pointed toward the northwest.
Many thousands of miles across the ocean, he replied. Why?
I am going there.
D'Arnot shook his head.
It is impossible, my friend, he said.
Tarzan rose, and, going to one of the cupboards, returned with awell-thumbed geography.
Turning to a map of the world, he said:
I have never quite understood all this; explain it to me, please.
When D'Arnot had done so, showing him that the blue represented all thewater on the earth, and the bits of other colors the continents andislands, Tarzan asked him to point out the spot where they now were.
D'Arnot did so.
Now point out America, said Tarzan.
And as D'Arnot placed his finger upon North America, Tarzan smiled andlaid his palm upon the page, spanning the great ocean that lay betweenthe two continents.
You see it is not so very far, he said; scarce the width of my hand.
D'Arnot laughed. How could he make the man understand?
Then he took a pencil and made a tiny point upon the shore of Africa.
This little mark, he said, is many times larger upon this map thanyour cabin is upon the earth. Do you see now how very far it is?
Tarzan thought for a long time.
Do any white men live in Africa? he asked.
Yes.
Where are the nearest?
D'Arnot pointed out a spot on the shore just north of them.
So close? asked Tarzan, in surprise.
Yes, said D'Arnot; but it is not close.
Have they big boats to cross the ocean?
Yes.
We shall go there to-morrow, announced Tarzan.
Again D'Arnot smiled and shook his head.
It is too far. We should die long before we reached them.
Do you wish to stay here then forever? asked Tarzan.
No, said D'Arnot.
Then we shall start to-morrow. I do not like it here longer. Ishould rather die than remain here.
Well, answered D'Arnot, with a shrug, I do not know, my friend, butthat I also would rather die than remain here. If you go, I shall gowith you.
It is settled then, said Tarzan. I shall start for Americato-morrow.
How will you get to America without money? asked D'Arnot.
What is money? inquired Tarzan.
It took a long time to make him understand even imperfectly.
How do men get money? he asked at last.
They work for it.
Very well. I will work for it, then.
No, my friend, returned D'Arnot, you need not worry about money, norneed you work for it. I have enough money for two--enough for twenty.Much more than is good for one man and you shall have all you need ifever we reach civilization.
So on the following day they started north along the shore. Each mancarrying a rifle and ammunition, beside bedding and some food andcooking utensils.
The latter seemed to Tarzan a most useless encumbrance, so he threw hisaway.
But you must learn to eat cooked food, my friend, remonstratedD'Arnot. No civilized men eat raw flesh.
There will be time enough when I reach civilization, said Tarzan. Ido not like the things and they only spoil the taste of good meat.
For a month they traveled north. Sometimes finding food in plenty andagain going hungry for days.
They saw no signs of natives nor were they molested by wild beasts.Their journey was a miracle of ease.
Tarzan asked questions and learned rapidly. D'Arnot taught him many ofthe refinements of civilization--even to the use of knife and fork; butsometimes Tarzan would drop them in disgust and grasp his food in hisstrong brown hands, tearing it with his molars like a wild beast.
Then D'Arnot would expostulate with him, saying:
You must not eat like a brute, Tarzan, while I am trying to make agentleman of you. MON DIEU! Gentlemen do not thus--it is terrible.
Tarzan would grin sheepishly and pick up his knife and fork again, butat heart he hated them.
On the journey he told D'Arnot about the great chest he had seen thesailors bury; of how he had dug it up and carried it to the gatheringplace of the apes and buried it there.
It must be the treasure chest of Professor Porter, said D'Arnot. Itis too bad, but of course you did not know.
Then Tarzan recalled the letter written by Jane to her friend--the onehe had stolen when they first came to his cabin, and now he knew whatwas in the chest and what it meant to Jane.
To-morrow we shall go back after it, he announced to D'Arnot.
Go back? exclaimed D'Arnot. But, my dear fellow, we have now beenthree weeks upon the march. It would require three more to return tothe treasure, and then, with that enormous weight which required, yousay, four sailors to carry, it would be months before we had againreached this spot.
It must be done, my friend, insisted Tarzan. You may go on towardcivilization, and I will return for the treasure. I can go very muchfaster alone.
I have a better plan, Tarzan, exclaimed D'Arnot. We shall go ontogether to the nearest settlement, and there we will charter a boatand sail back down the coast for the treasure and so transport iteasily. That will be safer and quicker and also not require us to beseparated. What do you think of that plan?
Very well, said Tarzan. The treasure will be there whenever we gofor it; and while I could fetch it now, and catch up with you in a moonor two, I shall feel safer for you to know that you are not alone onthe trail. When I see how helpless you are, D'Arnot, I often wonderhow the human race has escaped annihilation all these ages which youtell me about. Why, Sabor, single handed, could exterminate a thousandof you.
D'Arnot laughed.
You will think more highly of your genus when you have seen its armiesand navies, its great cities, and its mighty engineering works. Thenyou will realize that it is mind, and not muscle, that makes the humananimal greater than the mighty beasts of your jungle.
Alone and unarmed, a single man is no match for any of the largerbeasts; but if ten men were together, they would combine their wits andtheir muscles against their savage enemies, while the beasts, beingunable to reason, would never think of combining against the men.Otherwise, Tarzan of the Apes, how long would you have lasted in thesavage wilderness?
You are right, D'Arnot, replied Tarzan, for if Kerchak had come toTublat's aid that night at the Dum-Dum, there would have been an end ofme. But Kerchak could never think far enough ahead to take advantageof any such opportunity. Even Kala, my mother, could never plan ahead.She simply ate what she needed when she needed it, and if the supplywas very scarce, even though she found plenty for several meals, shewould never gather any ahead.
I remember that she used to think it very silly of me to burden myselfwith extra food upon the march, though she was quite glad to eat itwith me, if the way chanced to be barren of sustenance.
Then you knew your mother, Tarzan? asked D'Arnot, in surprise.
Yes. She was a great, fine ape, larger than I, and weighing twice asmuch.
And your father? asked D'Arnot.
I did not know him. Kala told me he was a white ape, and hairlesslike myself. I know now that he must have been a white man.
D'Arnot looked long and earnestly at his companion.
Tarzan, he said at length, it is impossible that the ape, Kala, wasyour mother. If such a thing can be, which I doubt, you would haveinherited some of the characteristics of the ape, but you have not--youare pure man, and, I should say, the offspring of highly bred andintelligent parents. Have you not the slightest clue to your past?
Not the slightest, replied Tarzan.
No writings in the cabin that might have told something of the livesof its original inmates?
I have read everything that was in the cabin with the exception of onebook which I know now to be written in a language other than English.Possibly you can read it.
Tarzan fished the little black diary from the bottom of his quiver, andhanded it to his companion.
D'Arnot glanced at the title page.
It is the diary of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, an English nobleman,and it is written in French, he said.
Then he proceeded to read the diary that had been written over twentyyears before, and which recorded the details of the story which wealready know--the story of adventure, hardships and sorrow of JohnClayton and his wife Alice, from the day they left England until anhour before he was struck down by Kerchak.
D'Arnot read aloud. At times his voice broke, and he was forced tostop reading for the pitiful hopelessness that spoke between the lines.
Occasionally he glanced at Tarzan; but the ape-man sat upon hishaunches, like a carven image, his eyes fixed upon the ground.
Only when the little babe was mentioned did the tone of the diary alterfrom the habitual note of despair which had crept into it by degreesafter the first two months upon the shore.
Then the passages were tinged with a subdued happiness that was evensadder than the rest.
One entry showed an almost hopeful spirit.
To-day our little boy is six months old. He is sitting in Alice's lapbeside the table where I am writing--a happy, healthy, perfect child.
Somehow, even against all reason, I seem to see him a grown man, takinghis father's place in the world--the second John Clayton--and bringingadded honors to the house of Greystoke.
There--as though to give my prophecy the weight of his endorsement--hehas grabbed my pen in his chubby fists and with his inkbegrimed littlefingers has placed the seal of his tiny finger prints upon the page.
And there, on the margin of the page, were the partially blurredimprints of four wee fingers and the outer half of the thumb.
When D'Arnot had finished the diary the two men sat in silence for someminutes.
Well! Tarzan of the Apes, what think you? asked D'Arnot. Does notthis little book clear up the mystery of your parentage?
Why man, you are Lord Greystoke.
The book speaks of but one child, he replied. Its little skeletonlay in the crib, where it died crying for nourishment, from the firsttime I entered the cabin until Professor Porter's party buried it, withits father and mother, beside the cabin.
No, that was the babe the book speaks of--and the mystery of my originis deeper than before, for I have thought much of late of thepossibility of that cabin having been my birthplace. I am afraid thatKala spoke the truth, he concluded sadly.
D'Arnot shook his head. He was unconvinced, and in his mind had sprungthe determination to prove the correctness of his theory, for he haddiscovered the key which alone could unlock the mystery, or consign itforever to the realms of the unfathomable.
A week later the two men came suddenly upon a clearing in the forest.
In the distance were several buildings surrounded by a strong palisade.Between them and the enclosure stretched a cultivated field in which anumber of negroes were working.
The two halted at the edge of the jungle.
Tarzan fitted his bow with a poisoned arrow, but D'Arnot placed a handupon his arm.
What would you do, Tarzan? he asked.
They will try to kill us if they see us, replied Tarzan. I preferto be the killer.
Maybe they are friends, suggested D'Arnot.
They are black, was Tarzan's only reply.
And again he drew back his shaft.
You must not, Tarzan! cried D'Arnot. White men do not killwantonly. MON DIEU! but you have much to learn.
I pity the ruffian who crosses you, my wild man, when I take you toParis. I will have my hands full keeping your neck from beneath theguillotine.
Tarzan lowered his bow and smiled.
I do not know why I should kill the blacks back there in my jungle,yet not kill them here. Suppose Numa, the lion, should spring out uponus, I should say, then, I presume: Good morning, Monsieur Numa, how isMadame Numa; eh?
Wait until the blacks spring upon you, replied D'Arnot, then you maykill them. Do not assume that men are your enemies until they proveit.
Come, said Tarzan, let us go and present ourselves to be killed,and he started straight across the field, his head high held and thetropical sun beating upon his smooth, brown skin.
Behind him came D'Arnot, clothed in some garments which had beendiscarded at the cabin by Clayton when the officers of the Frenchcruiser had fitted him out in more presentable fashion.
Presently one of the blacks looked up, and beholding Tarzan, turned,shrieking, toward the palisade.
In an instant the air was filled with cries of terror from the fleeinggardeners, but before any had reached the palisade a white man emergedfrom the enclosure, rifle in hand, to discover the cause of thecommotion.
What he saw brought his rifle to his shoulder, and Tarzan of the Apeswould have felt cold lead once again had not D'Arnot cried loudly tothe man with the leveled gun:
Do not fire! We are friends!
Halt, then! was the reply.
Stop, Tarzan! cried D'Arnot. He thinks we are enemies.
Tarzan dropped into a walk, and together he and D'Arnot advanced towardthe white man by the gate.
The latter eyed them in puzzled bewilderment.
What manner of men are you? he asked, in French.
White men, replied D'Arnot. We have been lost in the jungle for along time.
The man had lowered his rifle and now advanced with outstretched hand.
I am Father Constantine of the French Mission here, he said, and Iam glad to welcome you.
This is Monsieur Tarzan, Father Constantine, replied D'Arnot,indicating the ape-man; and as the priest extended his hand to Tarzan,D'Arnot added: and I am Paul D'Arnot, of the French Navy.
Father Constantine took the hand which Tarzan extended in imitation ofthe priest's act, while the latter took in the superb physique andhandsome face in one quick, keen glance.
And thus came Tarzan of the Apes to the first outpost of civilization.
For a week they remained there, and the ape-man, keenly observant,learned much of the ways of men; meanwhile black women sewed white duckgarments for himself and D'Arnot so that they might continue theirjourney properly clothed.