“King of the Apes”
It was not yet dark when he reached
the tribe, though he stopped to exhume and devour
the remains of the wild boar he had cached the preceding
day, and again to take Kulonga’s bow and arrows
from the tree top in which he had hidden them.
It was a well-laden Tarzan who dropped
from the branches into the midst of the tribe of Kerchak.
With swelling chest he narrated the
glories of his adventure and exhibited the spoils
of conquest.
Kerchak grunted and turned away, for
he was jealous of this strange member of his band.
In his little evil brain he sought for some excuse
to wreak his hatred upon Tarzan.
The next day Tarzan was practicing
with his bow and arrows at the first gleam of dawn.
At first he lost nearly every bolt he shot, but finally
he learned to guide the little shafts with fair accuracy,
and ere a month had passed he was no mean shot; but
his proficiency had cost him nearly his entire supply
of arrows.
The tribe continued to find the hunting
good in the vicinity of the beach, and so Tarzan of
the Apes varied his archery practice with further
investigation of his father’s choice though
little store of books.
It was during this period that the
young English lord found hidden in the back of one
of the cupboards in the cabin a small metal box.
The key was in the lock, and a few moments of investigation
and experimentation were rewarded with the successful
opening of the receptacle.
In it he found a faded photograph
of a smooth faced young man, a golden locket studded
with diamonds, linked to a small gold chain, a few
letters and a small book.
Tarzan examined these all minutely.
The photograph he liked most of all,
for the eyes were smiling, and the face was open and
frank. It was his father.
The locket, too, took his fancy, and
he placed the chain about his neck in imitation of
the ornamentation he had seen to be so common among
the black men he had visited. The brilliant
stones gleamed strangely against his smooth, brown
hide.
The letters he could scarcely decipher
for he had learned little or nothing of script, so
he put them back in the box with the photograph and
turned his attention to the book.
This was almost entirely filled with
fine script, but while the little bugs were all familiar
to him, their arrangement and the combinations in
which they occurred were strange, and entirely incomprehensible.
Tarzan had long since learned the
use of the dictionary, but much to his sorrow and
perplexity it proved of no avail to him in this emergency.
Not a word of all that was writ in the book could
he find, and so he put it back in the metal box, but
with a determination to work out the mysteries of it
later on.
Little did he know that this book
held between its covers the key to his origin—the
answer to the strange riddle of his strange life.
It was the diary of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke—kept
in French, as had always been his custom.
Tarzan replaced the box in the cupboard,
but always thereafter he carried the features of the
strong, smiling face of his father in his heart, and
in his head a fixed determination to solve the mystery
of the strange words in the little black book.
At present he had more important business
in hand, for his supply of arrows was exhausted, and
he must needs journey to the black men’s village
and renew it.
Early the following morning he set
out, and, traveling rapidly, he came before midday
to the clearing. Once more he took up his position
in the great tree, and, as before, he saw the women
in the fields and the village street, and the cauldron
of bubbling poison directly beneath him.
For hours he lay awaiting his opportunity
to drop down unseen and gather up the arrows for which
he had come; but nothing now occurred to call the
villagers away from their homes. The day wore
on, and still Tarzan of the Apes crouched above the
unsuspecting woman at the cauldron.
Presently the workers in the fields
returned. The hunting warriors emerged from
the forest, and when all were within the palisade
the gates were closed and barred.
Many cooking pots were now in evidence
about the village. Before each hut a woman presided
over a boiling stew, while little cakes of plantain,
and cassava puddings were to be seen on every hand.
Suddenly there came a hail from the
edge of the clearing.
Tarzan looked.
It was a party of belated hunters
returning from the north, and among them they half
led, half carried a struggling animal.
As they approached the village the
gates were thrown open to admit them, and then, as
the people saw the victim of the chase, a savage cry
rose to the heavens, for the quarry was a man.
As he was dragged, still resisting,
into the village street, the women and children set
upon him with sticks and stones, and Tarzan of the
Apes, young and savage beast of the jungle, wondered
at the cruel brutality of his own kind.
Sheeta, the leopard, alone of all
the jungle folk, tortured his prey. The ethics
of all the others meted a quick and merciful death
to their victims.
Tarzan had learned from his books
but scattered fragments of the ways of human beings.
When he had followed Kulonga through
the forest he had expected to come to a city of strange
houses on wheels, puffing clouds of black smoke from
a huge tree stuck in the roof of one of them—or
to a sea covered with mighty floating buildings which
he had learned were called, variously, ships and boats
and steamers and craft.
He had been sorely disappointed with
the poor little village of the blacks, hidden away
in his own jungle, and with not a single house as
large as his own cabin upon the distant beach.
He saw that these people were more
wicked than his own apes, and as savage and cruel
as Sabor, herself. Tarzan began to hold his
own kind in low esteem.
Now they had tied their poor victim
to a great post near the center of the village, directly
before Mbonga’s hut, and here they formed a
dancing, yelling circle of warriors about him, alive
with flashing knives and menacing spears.
In a larger circle squatted the women,
yelling and beating upon drums. It reminded
Tarzan of the Dum-Dum, and so he knew what to expect.
He wondered if they would spring upon their meat
while it was still alive. The Apes did not do
such things as that.
The circle of warriors about the cringing
captive drew closer and closer to their prey as they
danced in wild and savage abandon to the maddening
music of the drums. Presently a spear reached
out and pricked the victim. It was the signal
for fifty others.
Eyes, ears, arms and legs were pierced;
every inch of the poor writhing body that did not
cover a vital organ became the target of the cruel
lancers.
The women and children shrieked their delight.
The warriors licked their hideous
lips in anticipation of the feast to come, and vied
with one another in the savagery and loathsomeness
of the cruel indignities with which they tortured
the still conscious prisoner.
Then it was that Tarzan of the Apes
saw his chance. All eyes were fixed upon the
thrilling spectacle at the stake. The light
of day had given place to the darkness of a moonless
night, and only the fires in the immediate vicinity
of the orgy had been kept alight to cast a restless
glow upon the restless scene.
Gently the lithe boy dropped to the
soft earth at the end of the village street.
Quickly he gathered up the arrows—all of
them this time, for he had brought a number of long
fibers to bind them into a bundle.
Without haste he wrapped them securely,
and then, ere he turned to leave, the devil of capriciousness
entered his heart. He looked about for some hint
of a wild prank to play upon these strange, grotesque
creatures that they might be again aware of his presence
among them.
Dropping his bundle of arrows at the
foot of the tree, Tarzan crept among the shadows at
the side of the street until he came to the same hut
he had entered on the occasion of his first visit.
Inside all was darkness, but his groping
hands soon found the object for which he sought, and
without further delay he turned again toward the door.
He had taken but a step, however,
ere his quick ear caught the sound of approaching
footsteps immediately without. In another instant
the figure of a woman darkened the entrance of the
hut.
Tarzan drew back silently to the far
wall, and his hand sought the long, keen hunting knife
of his father. The woman came quickly to the
center of the hut. There she paused for an instant
feeling about with her hands for the thing she sought.
Evidently it was not in its accustomed place, for
she explored ever nearer and nearer the wall where
Tarzan stood.
So close was she now that the ape-man
felt the animal warmth of her naked body. Up
went the hunting knife, and then the woman turned
to one side and soon a guttural “ah” proclaimed
that her search had at last been successful.
Immediately she turned and left the
hut, and as she passed through the doorway Tarzan
saw that she carried a cooking pot in her hand.
He followed closely after her, and
as he reconnoitered from the shadows of the doorway
he saw that all the women of the village were hastening
to and from the various huts with pots and kettles.
These they were filling with water and placing over
a number of fires near the stake where the dying victim
now hung, an inert and bloody mass of suffering.
Choosing a moment when none seemed
near, Tarzan hastened to his bundle of arrows beneath
the great tree at the end of the village street.
As on the former occasion he overthrew the cauldron
before leaping, sinuous and catlike, into the lower
branches of the forest giant.
Silently he climbed to a great height
until he found a point where he could look through
a leafy opening upon the scene beneath him.
The women were now preparing the prisoner
for their cooking pots, while the men stood about
resting after the fatigue of their mad revel.
Comparative quiet reigned in the village.
Tarzan raised aloft the thing he had
pilfered from the hut, and, with aim made true by
years of fruit and coconut throwing, launched it toward
the group of savages.
Squarely among them it fell, striking
one of the warriors full upon the head and felling
him to the ground. Then it rolled among the
women and stopped beside the half-butchered thing
they were preparing to feast upon.
All gazed in consternation at it for
an instant, and then, with one accord, broke and ran
for their huts.
It was a grinning human skull which
looked up at them from the ground. The dropping
of the thing out of the open sky was a miracle well
aimed to work upon their superstitious fears.
Thus Tarzan of the Apes left them
filled with terror at this new manifestation of the
presence of some unseen and unearthly evil power which
lurked in the forest about their village.
Later, when they discovered the overturned
cauldron, and that once more their arrows had been
pilfered, it commenced to dawn upon them that they
had offended some great god by placing their village
in this part of the jungle without propitiating him.
From then on an offering of food was daily placed
below the great tree from whence the arrows had disappeared
in an effort to conciliate the mighty one.
But the seed of fear was deep sown,
and had he but known it, Tarzan of the Apes had laid
the foundation for much future misery for himself
and his tribe.
That night he slept in the forest
not far from the village, and early the next morning
set out slowly on his homeward march, hunting as he
traveled. Only a few berries and an occasional
grub worm rewarded his search, and he was half famished
when, looking up from a log he had been rooting beneath,
he saw Sabor, the lioness, standing in the center
of the trail not twenty paces from him.
The great yellow eyes were fixed upon
him with a wicked and baleful gleam, and the red tongue
licked the longing lips as Sabor crouched, worming
her stealthy way with belly flattened against the
earth.
Tarzan did not attempt to escape.
He welcomed the opportunity for which, in fact, he
had been searching for days past, now that he was
armed with something more than a rope of grass.
Quickly he unslung his bow and fitted
a well-daubed arrow, and as Sabor sprang, the tiny
missile leaped to meet her in mid-air. At the
same instant Tarzan of the Apes jumped to one side,
and as the great cat struck the ground beyond him
another death-tipped arrow sunk deep into Sabor’s
loin.
With a mighty roar the beast turned
and charged once more, only to be met with a third
arrow full in one eye; but this time she was too close
to the ape-man for the latter to sidestep the onrushing
body.
Tarzan of the Apes went down beneath
the great body of his enemy, but with gleaming knife
drawn and striking home. For a moment they lay
there, and then Tarzan realized that the inert mass
lying upon him was beyond power ever again to injure
man or ape.
With difficulty he wriggled from beneath
the great weight, and as he stood erect and gazed
down upon the trophy of his skill, a mighty wave of
exultation swept over him.
With swelling breast, he placed a
foot upon the body of his powerful enemy, and throwing
back his fine young head, roared out the awful challenge
of the victorious bull ape.
The forest echoed to the savage and
triumphant paean. Birds fell still, and the larger
animals and beasts of prey slunk stealthily away,
for few there were of all the jungle who sought for
trouble with the great anthropoids.
And in London another Lord Greystoke
was speaking to his kind in the House of Lords,
but none trembled at the sound of his soft voice.
Sabor proved unsavory eating even
to Tarzan of the Apes, but hunger served as a most
efficacious disguise to toughness and rank taste,
and ere long, with well-filled stomach, the ape-man
was ready to sleep again. First, however, he
must remove the hide, for it was as much for this
as for any other purpose that he had desired to destroy
Sabor.
Deftly he removed the great pelt,
for he had practiced often on smaller animals.
When the task was finished he carried his trophy
to the fork of a high tree, and there, curling himself
securely in a crotch, he fell into deep and dreamless
slumber.
What with loss of sleep, arduous exercise,
and a full belly, Tarzan of the Apes slept the sun
around, awakening about noon of the following day.
He straightway repaired to the carcass of Sabor,
but was angered to find the bones picked clean by
other hungry denizens of the jungle.
Half an hour’s leisurely progress
through the forest brought to sight a young deer,
and before the little creature knew that an enemy
was near a tiny arrow had lodged in its neck.
So quickly the virus worked that at
the end of a dozen leaps the deer plunged headlong
into the undergrowth, dead. Again did Tarzan
feast well, but this time he did not sleep.
Instead, he hastened on toward the
point where he had left the tribe, and when he had
found them proudly exhibited the skin of Sabor, the
lioness.
“Look!” he cried, “Apes
of Kerchak. See what Tarzan, the mighty killer,
has done. Who else among you has ever killed
one of Numa’s people? Tarzan is mightiest
amongst you for Tarzan is no ape. Tarzan is—”
But here he stopped, for in the language of the anthropoids
there was no word for man, and Tarzan could only write
the word in English; he could not pronounce it.
The tribe had gathered about to look
upon the proof of his wondrous prowess, and to listen
to his words.
Only Kerchak hung back, nursing his
hatred and his rage.
Suddenly something snapped in the
wicked little brain of the anthropoid. With
a frightful roar the great beast sprang among the
assemblage.
Biting, and striking with his huge
hands, he killed and maimed a dozen ere the balance
could escape to the upper terraces of the forest.
Frothing and shrieking in the insanity
of his fury, Kerchak looked about for the object of
his greatest hatred, and there, upon a near-by limb,
he saw him sitting.
“Come down, Tarzan, great killer,”
cried Kerchak. “Come down and feel the
fangs of a greater! Do mighty fighters fly to
the trees at the first approach of danger?”
And then Kerchak emitted the volleying challenge of
his kind.
Quietly Tarzan dropped to the ground.
Breathlessly the tribe watched from their lofty perches
as Kerchak, still roaring, charged the relatively
puny figure.
Nearly seven feet stood Kerchak on
his short legs. His enormous shoulders were
bunched and rounded with huge muscles. The back
of his short neck was as a single lump of iron sinew
which bulged beyond the base of his skull, so that
his head seemed like a small ball protruding from a
huge mountain of flesh.
His back-drawn, snarling lips exposed
his great fighting fangs, and his little, wicked,
blood-shot eyes gleamed in horrid reflection of his
madness.
Awaiting him stood Tarzan, himself
a mighty muscled animal, but his six feet of height
and his great rolling sinews seemed pitifully inadequate
to the ordeal which awaited them.
His bow and arrows lay some distance
away where he had dropped them while showing Sabor’s
hide to his fellow apes, so that he confronted Kerchak
now with only his hunting knife and his superior intellect
to offset the ferocious strength of his enemy.
As his antagonist came roaring toward
him, Lord Greystoke tore his long knife from its sheath,
and with an answering challenge as horrid and bloodcurdling
as that of the beast he faced, rushed swiftly to meet
the attack. He was too shrewd to allow those
long hairy arms to encircle him, and just as their
bodies were about to crash together, Tarzan of the
Apes grasped one of the huge wrists of his assailant,
and, springing lightly to one side, drove his knife
to the hilt into Kerchak’s body, below the heart.
Before he could wrench the blade free
again, the bull’s quick lunge to seize him in
those awful arms had torn the weapon from Tarzan’s
grasp.
Kerchak aimed a terrific blow at the
ape-man’s head with the flat of his hand, a
blow which, had it landed, might easily have crushed
in the side of Tarzan’s skull.
The man was too quick, and, ducking
beneath it, himself delivered a mighty one, with clenched
fist, in the pit of Kerchak’s stomach.
The ape was staggered, and what with
the mortal wound in his side had almost collapsed,
when, with one mighty effort he rallied for an instant—just
long enough to enable him to wrest his arm free from
Tarzan’s grasp and close in a terrific clinch
with his wiry opponent.
Straining the ape-man close to him,
his great jaws sought Tarzan’s throat, but the
young lord’s sinewy fingers were at Kerchak’s
own before the cruel fangs could close on the sleek
brown skin.
Thus they struggled, the one to crush
out his opponent’s life with those awful teeth,
the other to close forever the windpipe beneath his
strong grasp while he held the snarling mouth from
him.
The greater strength of the ape was
slowly prevailing, and the teeth of the straining
beast were scarce an inch from Tarzan’s throat
when, with a shuddering tremor, the great body stiffened
for an instant and then sank limply to the ground.
Kerchak was dead.
Withdrawing the knife that had so
often rendered him master of far mightier muscles
than his own, Tarzan of the Apes placed his foot upon
the neck of his vanquished enemy, and once again,
loud through the forest rang the fierce, wild cry
of the conqueror.
And thus came the young Lord Greystoke
into the kingship of the Apes.