18
The Lion Pit of Tu-lur
Though Tarzan searched the outskirts
of the city until nearly dawn he discovered nowhere
the spoor of his mate. The breeze coming down
from the mountains brought to his nostrils a diversity
of scents but there was not among them the slightest
suggestion of her whom he sought. The natural
deduction was therefore that she had been taken in
some other direction. In his search he had many
times crossed the fresh tracks of many men leading
toward the lake and these he concluded had probably
been made by Jane Clayton’s abductors.
It had only been to minimize the chance of error by
the process of elimination that he had carefully reconnoitered
every other avenue leading from A-lur toward the southeast
where lay Mo-sar’s city of Tu-lur, and now he
followed the trail to the shores of Jad-ben-lul where
the party had embarked upon the quiet waters in their
sturdy canoes.
He found many other craft of the same
description moored along the shore and one of these
he commandeered for the purpose of pursuit. It
was daylight when he passed through the lake which
lies next below Jad-ben-lul and paddling strongly
passed within sight of the very tree in which his
lost mate lay sleeping.
Had the gentle wind that caressed
the bosom of the lake been blowing from a southerly
direction the giant ape-man and Jane Clayton would
have been reunited then, but an unkind fate had willed
otherwise and the opportunity passed with the passing
of his canoe which presently his powerful strokes
carried out of sight into the stream at the lower
end of the lake.
Following the winding river which
bore a considerable distance to the north before doubling
back to empty into the Jad-in-lul, the ape-man missed
a portage that would have saved him hours of paddling.
It was at the upper end of this portage
where Mo-sar and his warriors had debarked that the
chief discovered the absence of his captive.
As Mo-sar had been asleep since shortly after their
departure from A-lur, and as none of the warriors
recalled when she had last been seen, it was impossible
to conjecture with any degree of accuracy the place
where she had escaped. The consensus of opinion
was, however, that it had been in the narrow river
connecting Jad-ben-lul with the lake next below it,
which is called Jad-bal-lul, which freely translated
means the lake of gold. Mo-sar had been very wroth
and having himself been the only one at fault he naturally
sought with great diligence to fix the blame upon
another.
He would have returned in search of
her had he not feared to meet a pursuing company dispatched
either by Ja-don or the high priest, both of whom,
he knew, had just grievances against him. He
would not even spare a boatload of his warriors from
his own protection to return in quest of the fugitive
but hastened onward with as little delay as possible
across the portage and out upon the waters of Jad-in-lul.
The morning sun was just touching
the white domes of Tu-lur when Mo-sar’s paddlers
brought their canoes against the shore at the city’s
edge. Safe once more behind his own walls and
protected by many warriors, the courage of the chief
returned sufficiently at least to permit him to dispatch
three canoes in search of Jane Clayton, and also to
go as far as A-lur if possible to learn what had delayed
Bu-lot, whose failure to reach the canoes with the
balance of the party at the time of the flight from
the northern city had in no way delayed Mo-sar’s
departure, his own safety being of far greater moment
than that of his son.
As the three canoes reached the portage
on their return journey the warriors who were dragging
them from the water were suddenly startled by the
appearance of two priests, carrying a light canoe
in the direction of Jad-in-lul. At first they
thought them the advance guard of a larger force of
Lu-don’s followers, although the correctness
of such a theory was belied by their knowledge that
priests never accepted the risks or perils of a warrior’s
vocation, nor even fought until driven into a corner
and forced to do so. Secretly the warriors of
Pal-ul-don held the emasculated priesthood in contempt
and so instead of immediately taking up the offensive
as they would have had the two men been warriors from
A-lur instead of priests, they waited to question
them.
At sight of the warriors the priests
made the sign of peace and upon being asked if they
were alone they answered in the affirmative.
The leader of Mo-sar’s warriors
permitted them to approach. “What do you
here,” he asked, “in the country of Mo-sar,
so far from your own city?”
“We carry a message from Lu-don,
the high priest, to Mo-sar,” explained one.
“Is it a message of peace or
of war?” asked the warrior.
“It is an offer of peace,” replied the
priest.
“And Lu-don is sending no warriors
behind you?” queried the fighting man.
“We are alone,” the priest
assured him. “None in A-lur save Lu-don
knows that we have come upon this errand.”
“Then go your way,” said the warrior.
“Who is that?” asked one
of the priests suddenly, pointing toward the upper
end of the lake at the point where the river from
Jad-bal-lul entered it.
All eyes turned in the direction that
he had indicated to see a lone warrior paddling rapidly
into Jad-in-lul, the prow of his canoe pointing toward
Tu-lur. The warriors and the priests drew into
the concealment of the bushes on either side of the
portage.
“It is the terrible man who
called himself the Dor-ul-Otho,” whispered one
of the priests. “I would know that figure
among a great multitude as far as I could see it.”
“You are right, priest,”
cried one of the warriors who had seen Tarzan the
day that he had first entered Ko-tan’s palace.
“It is indeed he who has been rightly called
Tarzan-jad-guru.”
“Hasten priests,” cried
the leader of the party. “You are two paddles
in a light canoe. Easily can you reach Tu-lur
ahead of him and warn Mo-sar of his coming, for he
has but only entered the lake.”
For a moment the priests demurred
for they had no stomach for an encounter with this
terrible man, but the warrior insisted and even went
so far as to threaten them. Their canoe was taken
from them and pushed into the lake and they were all
but lifted bodily from their feet and put aboard it.
Still protesting they were shoved out upon the water
where they were immediately in full view of the lone
paddler above them. Now there was no alternative.
The city of Tu-lur offered the only safety and bending
to their paddles the two priests sent their craft
swiftly in the direction of the city.
The warriors withdrew again to the
concealment of the foliage. If Tarzan had seen
them and should come hither to investigate there were
thirty of them against one and naturally they had no
fear of the outcome, but they did not consider it
necessary to go out upon the lake to meet him since
they had been sent to look for the escaped prisoner
and not to intercept the strange warrior, the stories
of whose ferocity and prowess doubtless helped them
to arrive at their decision to provoke no uncalled-for
quarrel with him.
If he had seen them he gave no sign,
but continued paddling steadily and strongly toward
the city, nor did he increase his speed as the two
priests shot out in full view. The moment the
priests’ canoe touched the shore by the city
its occupants leaped out and hurried swiftly toward
the palace gate, casting affrighted glances behind
them. They sought immediate audience with Mo-sar,
after warning the warriors on guard that Tarzan was
approaching.
They were conducted at once to the
chief, whose court was a smaller replica of that of
the king of A-lur. “We come from Lu-don,
the high priest,” explained the spokesman.
“He wishes the friendship of Mo-sar, who has
always been his friend. Ja-don is gathering warriors
to make himself king. Throughout the villages
of the Ho-don are thousands who will obey the commands
of Lu-don, the high priest. Only with Lu-don’s
assistance can Mo-sar become king, and the message
from Lu-don is that if Mo-sar would retain the friendship
of Lu-don he must return immediately the woman he took
from the quarters of the Princess O-lo-a.”
At this juncture a warrior entered.
His excitement was evident. “The Dor-ul-Otho
has come to Tu-lur and demands to see Mo-sar at once,”
he said.
“The Dor-ul-Otho!” exclaimed Mo-sar.
“That is the message he sent,”
replied the warrior, “and indeed he is not as
are the people of Pal-ul-don. He is, we think,
the same of whom the warriors that returned from A-lur
today told us and whom some call Tarzan-jad-guru and
some Dor-ul-Otho. But indeed only the son of
god would dare come thus alone to a strange city,
so it must be that he speaks the truth.”
Mo-sar, his heart filled with terror
and indecision, turned questioningly toward the priests.
“Receive him graciously, Mo-sar,”
counseled he who had spoken before, his advice prompted
by the petty shrewdness of his defective brain which,
under the added influence of Lu-don’s tutorage
leaned always toward duplicity. “Receive
him graciously and when he is quite convinced of your
friendship he will be off his guard, and then you
may do with him as you will. But if possible,
Mo-sar, and you would win the undying gratitude of
Lu-don, the high-priest, save him alive for my master.”
Mo-sar nodded understandingly and
turning to the warrior commanded that he conduct the
visitor to him.
“We must not be seen by the
creature,” said one of the priests. “Give
us your answer to Lu-don, Mo-sar, and we will go our
way.”
“Tell Lu-don,” replied
the chief, “that the woman would have been lost
to him entirely had it not been for me. I sought
to bring her to Tu-lur that I might save her for him
from the clutches of Ja-don, but during the night
she escaped. Tell Lu-don that I have sent thirty
warriors to search for her. It is strange you
did not see them as you came.”
“We did,” replied the
priests, “but they told us nothing of the purpose
of their journey.”
“It is as I have told you,”
said Mo-sar, “and if they find her, assure your
master that she will be kept unharmed in Tu-lur for
him. Also tell him that I will send my warriors
to join with his against Ja-don whenever he sends
word that he wants them. Now go, for Tarzan-jad-guru
will soon be here.”
He signaled to a slave. “Lead
the priests to the temple,” he commanded, “and
ask the high priest of Tu-lur to see that they are
fed and permitted to return to A-lur when they will.”
The two priests were conducted from
the apartment by the slave through a doorway other
than that at which they had entered, and a moment
later Tarzan-jad-guru strode into the presence of Mo-sar,
ahead of the warrior whose duty it had been to conduct
and announce him. The ape-man made no sign of
greeting or of peace but strode directly toward the
chief who, only by the exertion of his utmost powers
of will, hid the terror that was in his heart at sight
of the giant figure and the scowling face.
“I am the Dor-ul-Otho,”
said the ape-man in level tones that carried to the
mind of Mo-sar a suggestion of cold steel; “I
am Dor-ul-Otho, and I come to Tu-lur for the woman
you stole from the apartments of O-lo-a, the princess.”
The very boldness of Tarzan’s
entry into this hostile city had had the effect of
giving him a great moral advantage over Mo-sar and
the savage warriors who stood upon either side of the
chief. Truly it seemed to them that no other
than the son of Jad-ben-Otho would dare so heroic
an act. Would any mortal warrior act thus boldly,
and alone enter the presence of a powerful chief and,
in the midst of a score of warriors, arrogantly demand
an accounting? No, it was beyond reason.
Mo-sar was faltering in his decision to betray the
stranger by seeming friendliness. He even paled
to a sudden thought—Jad-ben-Otho knew everything,
even our inmost thoughts. Was it not therefore
possible that this creature, if after all it should
prove true that he was the Dor-ul-Otho, might even
now be reading the wicked design that the priests
had implanted in the brain of Mo-sar and which he
had entertained so favorably? The chief squirmed
and fidgeted upon the bench of hewn rock that was
his throne.
“Quick,” snapped the ape-man, “Where
is she?”
“She is not here,” cried Mo-sar.
“You lie,” replied Tarzan.
“As Jad-ben-Otho is my witness,
she is not in Tu-lur,” insisted the chief.
“You may search the palace and the temple and
the entire city but you will not find her, for she
is not here.”
“Where is she, then?”
demanded the ape-man. “You took her from
the palace at A-lur. If she is not here, where
is she? Tell me not that harm has befallen her,”
and he took a sudden threatening step toward Mo-sar,
that sent the chief shrinking back in terror.
“Wait,” he cried, “if
you are indeed the Dor-ul-Otho you will know that
I speak the truth. I took her from the palace
of Ko-tan to save her for Lu-don, the high priest,
lest with Ko-tan dead Ja-don seize her. But during
the night she escaped from me between here and A-lur,
and I have but just sent three canoes full-manned in
search of her.”
Something in the chief’s tone
and manner assured the ape-man that he spoke in part
the truth, and that once again he had braved incalculable
dangers and suffered loss of time futilely.
“What wanted the priests of
Lu-don that preceded me here?” demanded Tarzan
chancing a shrewd guess that the two he had seen paddling
so frantically to avoid a meeting with him had indeed
come from the high priest at A-lur.
“They came upon an errand similar
to yours,” replied Mo-sar; “to demand
the return of the woman whom Lu-don thought I had stolen
from him, thus wronging me as deeply, O Dor-ul-Otho,
as have you.”
“I would question the priests,”
said Tarzan. “Bring them hither.”
His peremptory and arrogant manner left Mo-sar in doubt
as to whether to be more incensed, or terrified, but
ever as is the way with such as he, he concluded that
the first consideration was his own safety. If
he could transfer the attention and the wrath of this
terrible man from himself to Lu-don’s priests
it would more than satisfy him and if they should
conspire to harm him, then Mo-sar would be safe in
the eyes of Jad-ben-Otho if it finally developed that
the stranger was in reality the son of god. He
felt uncomfortable in Tarzan’s presence and
this fact rather accentuated his doubt, for thus indeed
would mortal feel in the presence of a god. Now
he saw a way to escape, at least temporarily.
“I will fetch them myself, Dor-ul-Otho,”
he said, and turning, left the apartment. His
hurried steps brought him quickly to the temple, for
the palace grounds of Tu-lur, which also included the
temple as in all of the Ho-don cities, covered a much
smaller area than those of the larger city of A-lur.
He found Lu-don’s messengers with the high priest
of his own temple and quickly transmitted to them
the commands of the ape-man.
“What do you intend to do with
him?” asked one of the priests.
“I have no quarrel with him,”
replied Mo-sar. “He came in peace and he
may depart in peace, for who knows but that he is indeed
the Dor-ul-Otho?”
“We know that he is not,”
replied Lu-don’s emissary. “We have
every proof that he is only mortal, a strange creature
from another country. Already has Lu-don offered
his life to Jad-ben-Otho if he is wrong in his belief
that this creature is not the son of god. If
the high priest of A-lur, who is the highest priest
of all the high priests of Pal-ul-don is thus so sure
that the creature in an impostor as to stake his life
upon his judgment then who are we to give credence
to the claims of this stranger? No, Mo-sar, you
need not fear him. He is only a warrior who may
be overcome with the same weapons that subdue your
own fighting men. Were it not for Lu-don’s
command that he be taken alive I would urge you to
set your warriors upon him and slay him, but the commands
of Lu-don are the commands of Jad-ben-Otho himself,
and those we may not disobey.”
But still the remnant of a doubt stirred
within the cowardly breast of Mo-sar, urging him to
let another take the initiative against the stranger.
“He is yours then,” he
replied, “to do with as you will. I have
no quarrel with him. What you may command shall
be the command of Lu-don, the high priest, and further
than that I shall have nothing to do in the matter.”
The priests turned to him who guided
the destinies of the temple at Tu-lur. “Have
you no plan?” they asked. “High indeed
will he stand in the counsels of Lu-don and in the
eyes of Jad-ben-Otho who finds the means to capture
this impostor alive.”
“There is the lion pit,”
whispered the high priest. “It is now vacant
and what will hold ja and jato will hold this stranger
if he is not the Dor-ul-Otho.”
“It will hold him,” said
Mo-sar; “doubtless too it would hold a gryf,
but first you would have to get the gryf into it.”
The priests pondered this bit of wisdom
thoughtfully and then one of those from A-lur spoke.
“It should not be difficult,” he said,
“if we use the wits that Jad-ben-Otho gave us
instead of the worldly muscles which were handed down
to us from our fathers and our mothers and which have
not even the power possessed by those of the beasts
that run about on four feet.”
“Lu-don matched his wits with
the stranger and lost,” suggested Mo-sar.
“But this is your own affair. Carry it out
as you see best.”
“At A-lur, Ko-tan made much
of this Dor-ul-Otho and the priests conducted him
through the temple. It would arouse in his mind
no suspicion were you to do the same, and let the high
priest of Tu-lur invite him to the temple and gathering
all the priests make a great show of belief in his
kinship to Jad-ben-Otho. And what more natural
then than that the high priest should wish to show
him through the temple as did Lu-don at A-lur when
Ko-tan commanded it, and if by chance he should be
led through the lion pit it would be a simple matter
for those who bear the torches to extinguish them
suddenly and before the stranger was aware of what
had happened, the stone gates could be dropped, thus
safely securing him.”
“But there are windows in the
pit that let in light,” interposed the high
priest, “and even though the torches were extinguished
he could still see and might escape before the stone
door could be lowered.”
“Send one who will cover the
windows tightly with hides,” said the priest
from A-lur.
“The plan is a good one,”
said Mo-sar, seeing an opportunity for entirely eliminating
himself from any suspicion of complicity, “for
it will require the presence of no warriors, and thus
with only priests about him his mind will entertain
no suspicion of harm.”
They were interrupted at this point
by a messenger from the palace who brought word that
the Dor-ul-Otho was becoming impatient and if the
priests from A-lur were not brought to him at once
he would come himself to the temple and get them.
Mo-sar shook his head. He could not conceive
of such brazen courage in mortal breast and glad he
was that the plan evolved for Tarzan’s undoing
did not necessitate his active participation.
And so, while Mo-sar left for a secret
corner of the palace by a roundabout way, three priests
were dispatched to Tarzan and with whining words that
did not entirely deceive him, they acknowledged his
kinship to Jad-ben-Otho and begged him in the name
of the high priest to honor the temple with a visit,
when the priests from A-lur would be brought to him
and would answer any questions that he put to them.
Confident that a continuation of his
bravado would best serve his purpose, and also that
if suspicion against him should crystallize into conviction
on the part of Mo-sar and his followers that he would
be no worse off in the temple than in the palace, the
ape-man haughtily accepted the invitation of the high
priest.
And so he came into the temple and
was received in a manner befitting his high claims.
He questioned the two priests of A-lur from whom he
obtained only a repetition of the story that Mo-sar
had told him, and then the high priest invited him
to inspect the temple.
They took him first to the altar court,
of which there was only one in Tu-lur. It was
almost identical in every respect with those at A-lur.
There was a bloody altar at the east end and the drowning
basin at the west, and the grizzly fringes upon the
headdresses of the priests attested the fact that
the eastern altar was an active force in the rites
of the temple. Through the chambers and corridors
beneath they led him, and finally, with torch bearers
to light their steps, into a damp and gloomy labyrinth
at a low level and here in a large chamber, the air
of which was still heavy with the odor of lions, the
crafty priests of Tu-lur encompassed their shrewd
design.
The torches were suddenly extinguished.
There was a hurried confusion of bare feet moving
rapidly across the stone floor. There was a
loud crash as of a heavy weight of stone falling upon
stone, and then surrounding the ape-man naught but
the darkness and the silence of the tomb.