Tarzan of the Apes
Lord Greystoke, he turned his attention toward the little cradle; but
Kala was there before him, and when he would have grasped the child she
snatched it herself, and before he could intercept her she had bolted
through the door and taken refuge in a high tree.
As she took up the little live baby of Alice Clayton she dropped the
dead body of her own into the empty cradle; for the wail of the living
had answered the call of universal motherhood within her wild breast
which the dead could not still.
High up among the branches of a mighty tree she hugged the shrieking
infant to her bosom, and soon the instinct that was as dominant in this
fierce female as it had been in the breast of his tender and beautiful
mother—the instinct of mother love—reached out to the tiny man-child’s
half-formed understanding, and he became quiet.
Then hunger closed the gap between them, and the son of an English lord
and an English lady nursed at the breast of Kala, the great ape.
In the meantime the beasts within the cabin were warily examining the
contents of this strange lair.
Once satisfied that Clayton was dead, Kerchak turned his attention to
the thing which lay upon the bed, covered by a piece of sailcloth.
Gingerly he lifted one corner of the shroud, but when he saw the body
of the woman beneath he tore the cloth roughly from her form and seized
the still, white throat in his huge, hairy hands.
A moment he let his fingers sink deep into the cold flesh, and then,
realizing that she was already dead, he turned from her, to examine the
contents of the room; nor did he again molest the body of either Lady
Alice or Sir John.
The rifle hanging upon the wall caught his first attention; it was for
this strange, death-dealing thunder-stick that he had yearned for
months; but now that it was within his grasp he scarcely had the
temerity to seize it.
Cautiously he approached the thing, ready to flee precipitately should
it speak in its deep roaring tones, as he had heard it speak before,
the last words to those of his kind who, through ignorance or rashness,
had attacked the wonderful white ape that had borne it.
Deep in the beast’s intelligence was something which assured him that
the thunder-stick was only dangerous when in the hands of one who could
manipulate it, but yet it was several minutes ere he could bring
himself to touch it.
Instead, he walked back and forth along the floor before it, turning
his head so that never once did his eyes leave the object of his
desire.
Using his long arms as a man uses crutches, and rolling his huge
carcass from side to side with each stride, the great king ape paced to
and fro, uttering deep growls, occasionally punctuated with the
ear-piercing scream, than which there is no more terrifying noise in
all the jungle.
Presently he halted before the rifle. Slowly he raised a huge hand
until it almost touched the shining barrel, only to withdraw it once
more and continue his hurried pacing.
It was as though the great brute by this show of fearlessness, and
through the medium of his wild voice, was endeavoring to bolster up his
courage to the point which would permit him to take the rifle in his
hand.
Again he stopped, and this time succeeded in forcing his reluctant hand
to the cold steel, only to snatch it away almost immediately and resume
his restless beat.
Time after time this strange ceremony was repeated, but on each
occasion with increased confidence, until, finally, the rifle was torn
from its hook and lay in the grasp of the great brute.
Finding that it harmed him not, Kerchak began to examine it closely. He
felt of it from end to end, peered down the black depths of the muzzle,
fingered the sights, the breech, the stock, and finally the trigger.
During all these operations the apes who had entered sat huddled near
the door watching their chief, while those outside strained and crowded
to catch a glimpse of what transpired within.
Suddenly Kerchak’s finger closed upon the trigger. There was a
deafening roar in the little room and the apes at and beyond the door
fell over one another in their wild anxiety to escape.
Kerchak was equally frightened, so frightened, in fact, that he quite
forgot to throw aside the author of that fearful noise, but bolted for
the door with it tightly clutched in one hand.
As he passed through the opening, the front sight of the rifle caught
upon the edge of the inswung door with sufficient force to close it
tightly after the fleeing ape.
When Kerchak came to a halt a short distance from the cabin and
discovered that he still held the rifle, he dropped it as he might have
dropped a red hot iron, nor did he again attempt to recover it—the
noise was too much for his brute nerves; but he was now quite convinced
that the terrible stick was quite harmless by itself if left alone.
It was an hour before the apes could again bring themselves to approach
the cabin to continue their investigations, and when they finally did
so, they found to their chagrin that the door was closed and so
securely fastened that they could not force it.
The cleverly constructed latch which Clayton had made for the door had
sprung as Kerchak passed out; nor could the apes find means of ingress
through the heavily barred windows.
After roaming about the vicinity for a short time, they started back
for the deeper forests and the higher land from whence they had come.
Kala had not once come to earth with her little adopted babe, but now
Kerchak called to her to descend with the rest, and as there was no
note of anger in his voice she dropped lightly from branch to branch
and joined the others on their homeward march.
Those of the apes who attempted to examine Kala’s strange baby were
repulsed with bared fangs and low menacing growls, accompanied by words
of warning from Kala.
When they assured her that they meant the child no harm she permitted
them to come close, but would not allow them to touch her charge.
It was as though she knew that her baby was frail and delicate and
feared lest the rough hands of her fellows might injure the little
thing.
Another thing she did, and which made traveling an onerous trial for
her. Remembering the death of her own little one, she clung desperately
to the new babe, with one hand, whenever they were upon the march.
The other young rode upon their mothers’ backs; their little arms
tightly clasping the hairy necks before them, while their legs were
locked beneath their mothers’ armpits.
Not so with Kala; she held the small form of the little Lord Greystoke
tightly to her breast, where the dainty hands clutched the long black
hair which covered that portion of her body. She had seen one child
fall from her back to a terrible death, and she would take no further
chances with this.
CHAPTER V.
The White Ape
Tenderly Kala nursed her little waif, wondering silently why it did not
gain strength and agility as did the little apes of other mothers. It
was nearly a year from the time the little fellow came into her
possession before he would walk alone, and as for climbing—my, but how
stupid he was!
Kala sometimes talked with the older females about her young hopeful,
but none of them could understand how a child could be so slow and
backward in learning to care for itself. Why, it could not even find
food alone, and more than twelve moons had passed since Kala had come
upon it.
Had they known that the child had seen thirteen moons before it had
come into Kala’s possession they would have considered its case as
absolutely hopeless, for the little apes of their own tribe were as far
advanced in two or three moons as was this little stranger after
twenty-five.
Tublat, Kala’s husband, was sorely vexed, and but for the female’s
careful watching would have put the child out of the way.
“He will never be a great ape,” he argued. “Always will you have to
carry him and protect him. What good will he be to the tribe? None;
only a burden.
“Let us leave him quietly sleeping among the tall grasses, that you may
bear other and stronger apes to guard us in our old age.”
“Never, Broken Nose,” replied Kala. “If I must carry him forever, so be
it.”
And then Tublat went to Kerchak to urge him to use his authority with
Kala, and force her to give up little Tarzan, which was the name they
had given to the tiny Lord Greystoke, and which meant “White-Skin.”
But when Kerchak spoke to her about it Kala threatened to run away from
the tribe if they did not leave her in peace with the child; and as
this is one of the inalienable rights of the jungle folk, if they be
dissatisfied among their own people, they bothered her no more, for
Kala was a fine clean-limbed young female, and they did not wish to
lose her.
As Tarzan grew he made more rapid strides, so that by the time he was
ten years old he was an excellent climber, and on the ground could do
many wonderful things which were beyond the powers of his little
brothers and sisters.
In many ways did he differ from them, and they often marveled at his
superior cunning, but in strength and size he was deficient; for at ten
the great anthropoids were fully grown, some of them towering over six
feet in height, while little Tarzan was still but a half-grown boy.
Yet such a boy!
From early childhood he had used his hands to swing from branch to
branch after the manner of his giant mother, and as he grew older he
spent hour upon hour daily speeding through the tree tops with his
brothers and sisters.
He could spring twenty feet across space at the dizzy heights of the
forest top, and grasp with unerring precision, and without apparent
jar, a limb waving wildly in the path of an approaching tornado.
He could drop twenty feet at a stretch from limb to limb in rapid
descent to the ground, or he could gain the utmost pinnacle of the
loftiest tropical giant with the ease and swiftness of a squirrel.
Though but ten years old he was fully as strong as the average man of
thirty, and far more agile than the most practiced athlete ever
becomes. And day by day his strength was increasing.
His life among these fierce apes had been happy; for his recollection
held no other life, nor did he know that there existed within the
universe aught else than his little forest and the wild jungle animals
with which he was familiar.
He was nearly ten before he commenced to realize that a great
difference existed between himself and his fellows. His little body,
burned brown by exposure, suddenly caused him feelings of intense
shame, for he realized that it was entirely hairless, like some low
snake, or other reptile.
He attempted to obviate this by plastering himself from head to foot
with mud, but this dried and fell off. Besides it felt so uncomfortable
that he quickly decided that he preferred the shame to the discomfort.
In the higher land which his tribe frequented was a little lake, and it
was here that Tarzan first saw his face in the clear, still waters of
its bosom.
It was on a sultry day of the dry season that he and one of his cousins
had gone down to the bank to drink. As they leaned over, both little
faces were mirrored on the placid pool; the fierce and terrible
features of the ape beside those of the aristocratic scion of an old
English house.
Tarzan was appalled. It had been bad enough to be hairless, but to own
such a countenance! He wondered that the other apes could look at him
at all.
That tiny slit of a mouth and those puny white teeth! How they looked
beside the mighty lips and powerful fangs of his more fortunate
brothers!
And the little pinched nose of his; so thin was it that it looked half
starved. He turned red as he compared it with the beautiful broad