Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar

  19

  Jane Clayton and the Beasts of the Jungle

  Mugambi, after his successful break for liberty, had fallen upon hardtimes. His way had led him through a country with which he wasunfamiliar, a jungle country in which he could find no water, and butlittle food, so that after several days of wandering he found himselfso reduced in strength that he could barely drag himself along.

  It was with growing difficulty that he found the strength necessary toconstruct a shelter by night wherein he might be reasonably safe fromthe large carnivora, and by day he still further exhausted his strengthin digging for edible roots, and searching for water.

  A few stagnant pools at considerable distances apart saved him fromdeath by thirst; but his was a pitiable state when finally he stumbledby accident upon a large river in a country where fruit was abundant,and small game which he might bag by means of a combination of stealth,cunning, and a crude knob-stick which he had fashioned from a fallenlimb.

  Realizing that he still had a long march ahead of him before he couldreach even the outskirts of the Waziri country, Mugambi wisely decidedto remain where he was until he had recuperated his strength andhealth. A few days' rest would accomplish wonders for him, he knew,and he could ill afford to sacrifice his chances for a safe return bysetting forth handicapped by weakness.

  And so it was that he constructed a substantial thorn boma, and riggeda thatched shelter within it, where he might sleep by night insecurity, and from which he sallied forth by day to hunt the fleshwhich alone could return to his giant thews their normal prowess.

  One day, as he hunted, a pair of savage eyes discovered him from theconcealment of the branches of a great tree beneath which the blackwarrior passed. Bloodshot, wicked eyes they were, set in a fierce andhairy face.

  They watched Mugambi make his little kill of a small rodent, and theyfollowed him as he returned to his hut, their owner moving quietlythrough the trees upon the trail of the Negro.

  The creature was Chulk, and he looked down upon the unconscious manmore in curiosity than in hate. The wearing of the Arab burnoose whichTarzan had placed upon his person had aroused in the mind of theanthropoid a desire for similar mimicry of the Tarmangani. Theburnoose, though, had obstructed his movements and proven such anuisance that the ape had long since torn it from him and thrown itaway.

  Now, however, he saw a Gomangani arrayed in less cumbersome apparel--aloin cloth, a few copper ornaments and a feather headdress. These weremore in line with Chulk's desires than a flowing robe which wasconstantly getting between one's legs, and catching upon every limb andbush along the leafy trail.

  Chulk eyed the pouch, which, suspended over Mugambi's shoulder, swungbeside his black hip. This took his fancy, for it was ornamented withfeathers and a fringe, and so the ape hung about Mugambi's boma,waiting an opportunity to seize either by stealth or might some objectof the black's apparel.

  Nor was it long before the opportunity came. Feeling safe within histhorny enclosure, Mugambi was wont to stretch himself in the shade ofhis shelter during the heat of the day, and sleep in peaceful securityuntil the declining sun carried with it the enervating temperature ofmidday.

  Watching from above, Chulk saw the black warrior stretched thus in theunconsciousness of sleep one sultry afternoon. Creeping out upon anoverhanging branch the anthropoid dropped to the ground within theboma. He approached the sleeper upon padded feet which gave forth nosound, and with an uncanny woodcraft that rustled not a leaf or a grassblade.

  Pausing beside the man, the ape bent over and examined his belongings.Great as was the strength of Chulk there lay in the back of his littlebrain a something which deterred him from arousing the man to combat--asense that is inherent in all the lower orders, a strange fear of man,that rules even the most powerful of the jungle creatures at times.

  To remove Mugambi's loin cloth without awakening him would beimpossible, and the only detachable things were the knob-stick and thepouch, which had fallen from the black's shoulder as he rolled in sleep.

  Seizing these two articles, as better than nothing at all, Chulkretreated with haste, and every indication of nervous terror, to thesafety of the tree from which he had dropped, and, still haunted bythat indefinable terror which the close proximity of man awakened inhis breast, fled precipitately through the jungle. Aroused by attack,or supported by the presence of another of his kind, Chulk could havebraved the presence of a score of human beings, but alone--ah, that wasa different matter--alone, and unenraged.

  It was some time after Mugambi awoke that he missed the pouch.Instantly he was all excitement. What could have become of it? It hadbeen at his side when he lay down to sleep--of that he was certain, forhad he not pushed it from beneath him when its bulging bulk, pressingagainst his ribs, caused him discomfort? Yes, it had been there whenhe lay down to sleep. How then had it vanished?

  Mugambi's savage imagination was filled with visions of the spirits ofdeparted friends and enemies, for only to the machinations of such asthese could he attribute the disappearance of his pouch and knob-stickin the first excitement of the discovery of their loss; but later andmore careful investigation, such as his woodcraft made possible,revealed indisputable evidence of a more material explanation than hisexcited fancy and superstition had at first led him to accept.

  In the trampled turf beside him was the faint impress of huge, manlikefeet. Mugambi raised his brows as the truth dawned upon him. Hastilyleaving the boma he searched in all directions about the enclosure forsome further sign of the tell-tale spoor. He climbed trees and soughtfor evidence of the direction of the thief's flight; but the faintsigns left by a wary ape who elects to travel through the trees eludedthe woodcraft of Mugambi. Tarzan might have followed them; but noordinary mortal could perceive them, or perceiving, translate.

  The black, now strengthened and refreshed by his rest, felt ready toset out again for Waziri, and finding himself another knob-stick,turned his back upon the river and plunged into the mazes of the jungle.

  As Taglat struggled with the bonds which secured the ankles and wristsof his captive, the great lion that eyed the two from behind a nearbyclump of bushes wormed closer to his intended prey.

  The ape's back was toward the lion. He did not see the broad head,fringed by its rough mane, protruding through the leafy wall. He couldnot know that the powerful hind paws were gathering close beneath thetawny belly preparatory to a sudden spring, and his first intimation ofimpending danger was the thunderous and triumphant roar which thecharging lion could no longer suppress.

  Scarce pausing for a backward glance, Taglat abandoned the unconsciouswoman and fled in the opposite direction from the horrid sound whichhad broken in so unexpected and terrifying a manner upon his startledears; but the warning had come too late to save him, and the lion, inhis second bound, alighted full upon the broad shoulders of theanthropoid.

  As the great bull went down there was awakened in him to the full allthe cunning, all the ferocity, all the physical prowess which obey themightiest of the fundamental laws of nature, the law ofself-preservation, and turning upon his back he closed with thecarnivore in a death struggle so fearless and abandoned, that for amoment the great Numa himself may have trembled for the outcome.

  Seizing the lion by the mane, Taglat buried his yellowed fangs deep inthe monster's throat, growling hideously through the muffled gag ofblood and hair. Mixed with the ape's voice the lion's roars of rageand pain reverberated through the jungle, till the lesser creatures ofthe wild, startled from their peaceful pursuits, scurried fearfullyaway.

  Rolling over and over upon the turf the two battled with demoniac fury,until the colossal cat, by doubling his hind paws far up beneath hisbelly sank his talons deep into Taglat's chest, then, ripping downwardwith all his strength, Numa accomplished his design, and thedisemboweled anthropoid, with a last spasmodic struggle, relaxed inlimp and bloody dissolution beneath his titanic adversary.

  Scrambling to his feet, Numa looked about quick
ly in all directions, asthough seeking to detect the possible presence of other foes; but onlythe still and unconscious form of the girl, lying a few paces from himmet his gaze, and with an angry growl he placed a forepaw upon the bodyof his kill and raising his head gave voice to his savage victory cry.

  For another moment he stood with fierce eyes roving to and fro aboutthe clearing. At last they halted for a second time upon the girl. Alow growl rumbled from the lion's throat. His lower jaw rose and fell,and the slaver drooled and dripped upon the dead face of Taglat.

  Like two yellow-green augurs, wide and unblinking, the terrible eyesremained fixed upon Jane Clayton. The erect and majestic pose of thegreat frame shrank suddenly into a sinister crouch as, slowly andgently as one who treads on eggs, the devil-faced cat crept forwardtoward the girl.

  Beneficent Fate maintained her in happy unconsciousness of the dreadpresence sneaking stealthily upon her. She did not know when the lionpaused at her side. She did not hear the sniffing of his nostrils ashe smelled about her. She did not feel the heat of the fetid breathupon her face, nor the dripping of the saliva from the frightful jawshalf opened so close above her.

  Finally the lion lifted a forepaw and turned the body of the girl halfover, then he stood again eyeing her as though still undeterminedwhether life was extinct or not. Some noise or odor from the nearbyjungle attracted his attention for a moment. His eyes did not againreturn to Jane Clayton, and presently he left her, walked over to theremains of Taglat, and crouching down upon his kill with his backtoward the girl, proceeded to devour the ape.

  It was upon this scene that Jane Clayton at last opened her eyes.Inured to danger, she maintained her self-possession in the face of thestartling surprise which her new-found consciousness revealed to her.She neither cried out nor moved a muscle, until she had taken in everydetail of the scene which lay within the range of her vision.

  She saw that the lion had killed the ape, and that he was devouring hisprey less than fifty feet from where she lay; but what could she do?Her hands and feet were bound. She must wait then, in what patienceshe could command, until Numa had eaten and digested the ape, when,without doubt, he would return to feast upon her, unless, in themeantime, the dread hyenas should discover her, or some other of thenumerous prowling carnivora of the jungle.

  As she lay tormented by these frightful thoughts, she suddenly becameconscious that the bonds at her wrists and ankles no longer hurt her,and then of the fact that her hands were separated, one lying uponeither side of her, instead of both being confined at her back.

  Wonderingly she moved a hand. What miracle had been performed? It wasnot bound! Stealthily and noiselessly she moved her other limbs, onlyto discover that she was free. She could not know how the thing hadhappened, that Taglat, gnawing upon them for sinister purposes of hisown, had cut them through but an instant before Numa had frightened himfrom his victim.

  For a moment Jane Clayton was overwhelmed with joy and thanksgiving;but only for a moment. What good was her new-found liberty in the faceof the frightful beast crouching so close beside her? If she couldhave had this chance under different conditions, how happily she wouldhave taken advantage of it; but now it was given to her when escape waspractically impossible.

  The nearest tree was a hundred feet away, the lion less than fifty. Torise and attempt to reach the safety of those tantalizing brancheswould be but to invite instant destruction, for Numa would doubtless betoo jealous of this future meal to permit it to escape with ease. Andyet, too, there was another possibility--a chance which hinged entirelyupon the unknown temper of the great beast.

  His belly already partially filled, he might watch with indifferencethe departure of the girl; yet could she afford to chance so improbablea contingency? She doubted it. Upon the other hand she was no moreminded to allow this frail opportunity for life to entirely elude herwithout taking or attempting to take some advantage from it.

  She watched the lion narrowly. He could not see her without turninghis head more than halfway around. She would attempt a ruse. Silentlyshe rolled over in the direction of the nearest tree, and away from thelion, until she lay again in the same position in which Numa had lefther, but a few feet farther from him.

  Here she lay breathless watching the lion; but the beast gave noindication that he had heard aught to arouse his suspicions. Again sherolled over, gaining a few more feet and again she lay in rigidcontemplation of the beast's back.

  During what seemed hours to her tense nerves, Jane Clayton continuedthese tactics, and still the lion fed on in apparent unconsciousnessthat his second prey was escaping him. Already the girl was but a fewpaces from the tree--a moment more and she would be close enough tochance springing to her feet, throwing caution aside and making asudden, bold dash for safety. She was halfway over in her turn, herface away from the lion, when he suddenly turned his great head andfastened his eyes upon her. He saw her roll over upon her side awayfrom him, and then her eyes were turned again toward him, and the coldsweat broke from the girl's every pore as she realized that with lifealmost within her grasp, death had found her out.

  For a long time neither the girl nor the lion moved. The beast laymotionless, his head turned upon his shoulders and his glaring eyesfixed upon the rigid victim, now nearly fifty yards away. The girlstared back straight into those cruel orbs, daring not to move even amuscle.

  The strain upon her nerves was becoming so unbearable that she couldscarcely restrain a growing desire to scream, when Numa deliberatelyturned back to the business of feeding; but his back-layed earsattested a sinister regard for the actions of the girl behind him.

  Realizing that she could not again turn without attracting hisimmediate and perhaps fatal attention, Jane Clayton resolved to riskall in one last attempt to reach the tree and clamber to the lowerbranches.

  Gathering herself stealthily for the effort, she leaped suddenly to herfeet, but almost simultaneously the lion sprang up, wheeled and withwide-distended jaws and terrific roars, charged swiftly down upon her.

  Those who have spent lifetimes hunting the big game of Africa will tellyou that scarcely any other creature in the world attains the speed ofa charging lion. For the short distance that the great cat canmaintain it, it resembles nothing more closely than the onrushing of agiant locomotive under full speed, and so, though the distance thatJane Clayton must cover was relatively small, the terrific speed of thelion rendered her hopes of escape almost negligible.

  Yet fear can work wonders, and though the upward spring of the lion ashe neared the tree into which she was scrambling brought his talons incontact with her boots she eluded his raking grasp, and as he hurtledagainst the bole of her sanctuary, the girl drew herself into thesafety of the branches above his reach.

  For some time the lion paced, growling and moaning, beneath the tree inwhich Jane Clayton crouched, panting and trembling. The girl was aprey to the nervous reaction from the frightful ordeal through whichshe had so recently passed, and in her overwrought state it seemed thatnever again should she dare descend to the ground among the fearsomedangers which infested the broad stretch of jungle that she knew mustlie between herself and the nearest village of her faithful Waziri.

  It was almost dark before the lion finally quit the clearing, and evenhad his place beside the remnants of the mangled ape not beenimmediately usurped by a pack of hyenas, Jane Clayton would scarcelyhave dared venture from her refuge in the face of impending night, andso she composed herself as best she could for the long and tiresomewait, until daylight might offer some means of escape from the dreadvicinity in which she had witnessed such terrifying adventures.

  Tired nature at last overcame even her fears, and she dropped into adeep slumber, cradled in a comparatively safe, though ratheruncomfortable, position against the bole of the tree, and supported bytwo large branches which grew outward, almost horizontally, but a fewinches apart.

  The sun was high in the heavens when she at last awoke, and beneath herwas no si
gn either of Numa or the hyenas. Only the clean-picked bonesof the ape, scattered about the ground, attested the fact of what hadtranspired in this seemingly peaceful spot but a few hours before.

  Both hunger and thirst assailed her now, and realizing that she mustdescend or die of starvation, she at last summoned courage to undertakethe ordeal of continuing her journey through the jungle.

  Descending from the tree, she set out in a southerly direction, towardthe point where she believed the plains of Waziri lay, and though sheknew that only ruin and desolation marked the spot where once her happyhome had stood, she hoped that by coming to the broad plain she mighteventually reach one of the numerous Waziri villages that werescattered over the surrounding country, or chance upon a roving band ofthese indefatigable huntsmen.

  The day was half spent when there broke unexpectedly upon her startledears the sound of a rifle shot not far ahead of her. As she paused tolisten, this first shot was followed by another and another andanother. What could it mean? The first explanation which sprung toher mind attributed the firing to an encounter between the Arab raidersand a party of Waziri; but as she did not know upon which side victorymight rest, or whether she were behind friend or foe, she dared notadvance nearer on the chance of revealing herself to an enemy.

  After listening for several minutes she became convinced that no morethan two or three rifles were engaged in the fight, since nothingapproximating the sound of a volley reached her ears; but still shehesitated to approach, and at last, determining to take no chance, sheclimbed into the concealing foliage of a tree beside the trail she hadbeen following and there fearfully awaited whatever might reveal itself.

  As the firing became less rapid she caught the sound of men's voices,though she could distinguish no words, and at last the reports of theguns ceased, and she heard two men calling to each other in loud tones.Then there was a long silence which was finally broken by the stealthypadding of footfalls on the trail ahead of her, and in another moment aman appeared in view backing toward her, a rifle ready in his hands,and his eyes directed in careful watchfulness along the way that he hadcome.

  Almost instantly Jane Clayton recognized the man as M. Jules Frecoult,who so recently had been a guest in her home. She was upon the pointof calling to him in glad relief when she saw him leap quickly to oneside and hide himself in the thick verdure at the trail's side. It wasevident that he was being followed by an enemy, and so Jane Claytonkept silent, lest she distract Frecoult's attention, or guide his foeto his hiding place.

  Scarcely had Frecoult hidden himself than the figure of a white-robedArab crept silently along the trail in pursuit. From her hiding place,Jane Clayton could see both men plainly. She recognized Achmet Zek asthe leader of the band of ruffians who had raided her home and made hera prisoner, and as she saw Frecoult, the supposed friend and ally,raise his gun and take careful aim at the Arab, her heart stood stilland every power of her soul was directed upon a fervent prayer for theaccuracy of his aim.

  Achmet Zek paused in the middle of the trail. His keen eyes scannedevery bush and tree within the radius of his vision. His tall figurepresented a perfect target to the perfidious assassin. There was asharp report, and a little puff of smoke arose from the bush that hidthe Belgian, as Achmet Zek stumbled forward and pitched, face down,upon the trail.

  As Werper stepped back into the trail, he was startled by the sound ofa glad cry from above him, and as he wheeled about to discover theauthor of this unexpected interruption, he saw Jane Clayton droplightly from a nearby tree and run forward with outstretched hands tocongratulate him upon his victory.