Tarzan of the Apes
One was in a strong masculine hand and was unsealed. The other, in a
woman’s hand, was sealed.
“Here are two messages for you, Tarzan of the Apes,” cried D’Arnot,
turning toward the door; but his companion was not there.
D’Arnot walked to the door and looked out. Tarzan was nowhere in sight.
He called aloud but there was no response.
“_Mon Dieu!_” exclaimed D’Arnot, “he has left me. I feel it. He has
gone back into his jungle and left me here alone.”
And then he remembered the look on Tarzan’s face when they had
discovered that the cabin was empty—such a look as the hunter sees in
the eyes of the wounded deer he has wantonly brought down.
The man had been hard hit—D’Arnot realized it now—but why? He could not
understand.
The Frenchman looked about him. The loneliness and the horror of the
place commenced to get on his nerves—already weakened by the ordeal of
suffering and sickness he had passed through.
To be left here alone beside this awful jungle—never to hear a human
voice or see a human face—in constant dread of savage beasts and more
terribly savage men—a prey to solitude and hopelessness. It was awful.
And far to the east Tarzan of the Apes was speeding through the middle
terrace back to his tribe. Never had he traveled with such reckless
speed. He felt that he was running away from himself—that by hurtling
through the forest like a frightened squirrel he was escaping from his
own thoughts. But no matter how fast he went he found them always with
him.
He passed above the sinuous body of Sabor, the lioness, going in the
opposite direction—toward the cabin, thought Tarzan.
What could D’Arnot do against Sabor—or if Bolgani, the gorilla, should
come upon him—or Numa, the lion, or cruel Sheeta?
Tarzan paused in his flight.
“What are you, Tarzan?” he asked aloud. “An ape or a man?”
“If you are an ape you will do as the apes would do—leave one of your
kind to die in the jungle if it suited your whim to go elsewhere.
“If you are a man, you will return to protect your kind. You will not
run away from one of your own people, because one of them has run away
from you.”
D’Arnot closed the cabin door. He was very nervous. Even brave men, and
D’Arnot was a brave man, are sometimes frightened by solitude.
He loaded one of the rifles and placed it within easy reach. Then he
went to the desk and took up the unsealed letter addressed to Tarzan.
Possibly it contained word that his people had but left the beach
temporarily. He felt that it would be no breach of ethics to read this
letter, so he took the enclosure from the envelope and read:
TO TARZAN OF THE APES:
We thank you for the use of your cabin, and are sorry that you did not
permit us the pleasure of seeing and thanking you in person.
We have harmed nothing, but have left many things for you which may add
to your comfort and safety here in your lonely home.
If you know the strange white man who saved our lives so many times,
and brought us food, and if you can converse with him, thank him, also,
for his kindness.
We sail within the hour, never to return; but we wish you and that
other jungle friend to know that we shall always thank you for what you
did for strangers on your shore, and that we should have done
infinitely more to reward you both had you given us the opportunity.
Very respectfully,
WM. CECIL CLAYTON.
“‘Never to return,’” muttered D’Arnot, and threw himself face downward
upon the cot.
An hour later he started up listening. Something was at the door trying
to enter.
D’Arnot reached for the loaded rifle and placed it to his shoulder.
Dusk was falling, and the interior of the cabin was very dark; but the
man could see the latch moving from its place.
He felt his hair rising upon his scalp.
Gently the door opened until a thin crack showed something standing
just beyond.
D’Arnot sighted along the blue barrel at the crack of the door—and then
he pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Lost Treasure
When the expedition returned, following their fruitless endeavor to
succor D’Arnot, Captain Dufranne was anxious to steam away as quickly
as possible, and all save Jane had acquiesced.
“No,” she said, determinedly, “I shall not go, nor should you, for
there are two friends in that jungle who will come out of it some day
expecting to find us awaiting them.
“Your officer, Captain Dufranne, is one of them, and the forest man who
has saved the lives of every member of my father’s party is the other.
“He left me at the edge of the jungle two days ago to hasten to the aid
of my father and Mr. Clayton, as he thought, and he has stayed to
rescue Lieutenant D’Arnot; of that you may be sure.
“Had he been too late to be of service to the lieutenant he would have
been back before now—the fact that he is not back is sufficient proof
to me that he is delayed because Lieutenant D’Arnot is wounded, or he
has had to follow his captors further than the village which your
sailors attacked.”
“But poor D’Arnot’s uniform and all his belongings were found in that
village, Miss Porter,” argued the captain, “and the natives showed
great excitement when questioned as to the white man’s fate.”
“Yes, Captain, but they did not admit that he was dead and as for his
clothes and accouterments being in their possession—why more civilized
peoples than these poor savage negroes strip their prisoners of every
article of value whether they intend killing them or not.
“Even the soldiers of my own dear South looted not only the living but
the dead. It is strong circumstantial evidence, I will admit, but it is
not positive proof.”
“Possibly your forest man, himself was captured or killed by the
savages,” suggested Captain Dufranne.
The girl laughed.
“You do not know him,” she replied, a little thrill of pride setting
her nerves a-tingle at the thought that she spoke of her own.
“I admit that he would be worth waiting for, this superman of yours,”
laughed the captain. “I most certainly should like to see him.”
“Then wait for him, my dear captain,” urged the girl, “for I intend
doing so.”
The Frenchman would have been a very much surprised man could he have
interpreted the true meaning of the girl’s words.
They had been walking from the beach toward the cabin as they talked,
and now they joined a little group sitting on camp stools in the shade
of a great tree beside the cabin.
Professor Porter was there, and Mr. Philander and Clayton, with
Lieutenant Charpentier and two of his brother officers, while Esmeralda
hovered in the background, ever and anon venturing opinions and
comments with the freedom of an old and much-indulged family servant.
The officers arose and saluted as their superior approached, and
Clayton surrendered his camp stool to Jane.
“We were just discussing poor Paul’s fate,” said Captain Dufranne.
“Miss Porter insists that we have no absolute proof of his death—nor
have we. And on the other hand she maintains that the continued absence
of your omnipotent jungle friend indicates that D’Arnot is still in
need of his services, either because he is wounded, or still is a
prisoner in a more distant native village.”
“It has been suggested,” ventured Lieutenant Charpentier, “that the
wild man may have been a member of the tribe of blacks who attacked our
party—that he was hastening to aid THEM—his own people.”
Jane shot a quick glance at Clayton.
“It seems vastly more reasonable,” said Professor Porter.
“I do not agree with you,” objected Mr. Philander. “He had ample
opportunity to harm us himself, or to lead his people against us.
Instead, during our long residence here, he has been uniformly
consistent in his role of protector and provider.”
“That is true,” interjected Clayton, “yet we must not overlook the fact
that except for himself the only human beings within hundreds of miles
are savage cannibals. He was armed precisely as are they, which
indicates that he has maintained relations of some nature with them,
and the fact that he is but one against possibly thousands suggests
that these relations could scarcely have been other than friendly.”
“It seems improbable then that he is not connected with them,” remarked
the captain; “possibly a member of this tribe.”
“Otherwise,” added another of the officers, “how could he have lived a
sufficient length of time among the savage denizens of the jungle,
brute and human, to have become proficient in woodcraft, or in the use
of African weapons.”
“You are judging him according to your own standards, gentlemen,” said
Jane. “An ordinary white man such as any of you—pardon me, I did not
mean just that—rather, a white man above the ordinary in physique and
intelligence could never, I grant you, have lived a year alone and
naked in this tropical jungle; but this man not only surpasses the
average white man in strength and agility, but as far transcends our
trained athletes and ‘strong men’ as they surpass a day-old babe; and
his courage and ferocity in battle are those of the wild beast.”
“He has certainly won a loyal champion, Miss Porter,” said Captain
Dufranne, laughing. “I am sure that there be none of us here but would
willingly face death a hundred times in its most terrifying forms to
deserve the tributes of one even half so loyal—or so beautiful.”
“You would not wonder that I defend him,” said the girl, “could you
have seen him as I saw him, battling in my behalf with that huge hairy
brute.
“Could you have seen him charge the monster as a bull might charge a
grizzly—absolutely without sign of fear or hesitation—you would have
believed him more than human.
“Could you have seen those mighty muscles knotting under the brown
skin—could you have seen them force back those awful fangs—you too
would have thought him invincible.
“And could you have seen the chivalrous treatment which he accorded a
strange girl of a strange race, you would feel the same absolute
confidence in him that I feel.”
“You have won your suit, my fair pleader,” cried the captain. “This
court finds the defendant not guilty, and the cruiser shall wait a few
days longer that he may have an opportunity to come and thank the
divine Portia.”
“For the Lord’s sake honey,” cried Esmeralda. “You all don’t mean to
tell ME that you’re going to stay right here in this here land of
carnivable animals when you all got the opportunity to escapade on that
boat? Don’t you tell me THAT, honey.”
“Why, Esmeralda! You should be ashamed of yourself,” cried Jane. “Is
this any way to show your gratitude to the man who saved your life
twice?”
“Well, Miss Jane, that’s all jest as you say; but that there forest man
never did save us to stay here. He done save us so we all could get
AWAY from here. I expect he be mighty peevish when he find we ain’t got
no more sense than to stay right here after he done give us the chance
to get away.
“I hoped I’d never have to sleep in this here geological garden another
night and listen to all them lonesome noises that come out of that
jumble after dark.”
“I don’t blame you a bit, Esmeralda,” said Clayton, “and you certainly
did hit it off right when you called them ‘lonesome’ noises. I never
have been able to find the right word for them but that’s it, don’t you
know, lonesome noises.”
“You and Esmeralda had better go and live on the cruiser,” said Jane,
in fine scorn. “What would you think if you HAD to live all of your
life in that jungle as our forest man has done?”
“I’m afraid I’d be a blooming bounder as a wild man,” laughed Clayton,
ruefully. “Those noises at night make the hair on my head bristle. I
suppose that I should be ashamed to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Lieutenant Charpentier. “I never