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Many
days during these years he spent in the cabin of his father, where still
lay, untouched, the bones of his parents and the skeleton of Kala's baby.
At eighteen he read fluently and understood nearly all he read in
the many and varied volumes on the shelves.
Also
could he write, with printed letters, rapidly and plainly, but script he
had not mastered, for though there were several copy books among his
treasure, there was so little written English in the cabin that he saw no
use for bothering with this other form of writing, though he could read
it, laboriously.
Thus,
at eighteen, we find him, an English lordling, who could speak no English,
and yet who could read and write his native language.
Never had he seen a human being other than himself, for the little
area traversed by his tribe was watered by no greater river to bring down
the savage natives of the interior.
High
hills shut it off on three sides, the ocean on the fourth.
It was alive with lions and leopards and poisonous snakes.
Its untouched mazes of matted jungle had as yet invited no hardy
pioneer from the human beasts beyond its frontier.
But
as Tarzan of the Apes sat one day in the cabin of his father delving into
the mysteries of a new book, the ancient security of his jungle was broken
forever.
At
the far eastern confine a strange cavalcade strung, in single file, over
the brow of a low hill.
In
advance were fifty black warriors armed with slender wooden spears with
ends hard baked over slow fires, and long bows and poisoned arrows.
On their backs were oval shields, in their noses huge rings, while
from the kinky wool of their heads protruded tufts of gay feathers.
Across
their foreheads were tattooed three parallel lines of color, and on each
breast three concentric circles. Their
yellow teeth were filed to sharp points, and their great protruding lips
added still further to the low and bestial brutishness of their
appearance.
Following
them were several hundred women and children, the former bearing upon
their heads great burdens of cooking pots, household utensils and ivory.
In the rear were a hundred warriors, similar in all respects to the
advance guard.
That
they more greatly feared an attack from the rear than whatever unknown
enemies lurked in their advance was evidenced by the formation of the
column; and such was the fact, for they were fleeing from the white man's
soldiers who had so harassed them for rubber and ivory that they had
turned upon their conquerors one day and massacred a white officer and a
small detachment of his black troops.
For
many days they had gorged themselves on meat, but eventually a stronger
body of troops had come and fallen upon their village by night to revenge
the death of their comrades.
That
night the black soldiers of the white man had had meat a-plenty, and this
little remnant of a once powerful tribe had slunk off into the gloomy
jungle toward the unknown, and freedom.
But
that which meant freedom and the pursuit of happiness to these savage
blacks meant consternation and death to many of the wild denizens of their
new home.
For
three days the little cavalcade marched slowly through the heart of this
unknown and untracked forest, until finally, early in the fourth day, they
came upon a little spot near the banks of a small river, which seemed less
thickly overgrown than any ground they had yet encountered.
Here
they set to work to build a new village, and in a month a great clearing
had been made, huts and palisades erected, plantains, yams and maize
planted, and they had taken up their old life in their new home.
Here there were no white men, no soldiers, nor any rubber or ivory
to be gathered for cruel and thankless taskmasters.
Several
moons passed by ere the blacks ventured far into the territory surrounding
their new village. Several
had already fallen prey to old Sabor, and because the jungle was so
infested with these fierce and bloodthirsty cats, and with lions and
leopards, the ebony warriors hesitated to trust themselves far from the
safety of their palisades.
But
one day, Kulonga, a son of the old king, Mbonga, wandered far into the
dense mazes to the west. Warily
he stepped, his slender lance ever ready, his long oval shield firmly
grasped in his left hand close to his sleek ebony body.
At
his back his bow, and in the quiver upon his shield many slim, straight
arrows, well smeared with the thick, dark, tarry substance that rendered
deadly their tiniest needle prick.
Night
found Kulonga far from the palisades of his father's village, but still
headed westward, and climbing into the fork of a great tree he fashioned a
rude platform and curled himself for sleep.
Three
miles to the west slept the tribe of Kerchak.
Early
the next morning the apes were astir, moving through the jungle in search
of food. Tarzan, as was his custom, prosecuted his search in the
direction of the cabin so that by leisurely hunting on the way his stomach
was filled by the time he reached the beach.
The
apes scattered by ones, and twos, and threes in all directions, but ever
within sound of a signal of alarm.
Kala
had moved slowly along an elephant track toward the east, and was busily
engaged in turning over rotted limbs and logs in search of succulent bugs
and fungi, when the faintest shadow of a strange noise brought her to
startled attention.
For
fifty yards before her the trail was straight, and down this leafy tunnel
she saw the stealthy advancing figure of a strange and fearful creature.
It
was Kulonga.
Kala
did not wait to see more, but, turning, moved rapidly back along the
trail. She did not run; but,
after the manner of her kind when not aroused, sought rather to avoid than
to escape.
Close
after her came Kulonga. Here
was meat. He could make a killing and feast well this day.
On he hurried, his spear poised for the throw.
At
a turning of the trail he came in sight of her again upon another straight
stretch. His spear hand went
far back the muscles rolled, lightning-like, beneath the sleek hide.
Out shot the arm, and the spear sped toward Kala.
A
poor cast. It but grazed her side.
With
a cry of rage and pain the she-ape turned upon her tormentor.
In an instant the trees were crashing beneath the weight of her
hurrying fellows, swinging rapidly toward the scene of trouble in answer
to Kala's scream.
As
she charged, Kulonga unslung his bow and fitted an arrow with almost
unthinkable quickness. Drawing
the shaft far back he drove the poisoned missile straight into the heart
of the great anthropoid.
With
a horrid scream Kala plunged forward upon her face before the astonished
members of her tribe.
Roaring
and shrieking the apes dashed toward Kulonga, but that wary savage was
fleeing down the trail like a frightened antelope.
He
knew something of the ferocity of these wild, hairy men, and his one
desire was to put as many miles between himself and them as he possibly
could.
They
followed him, racing through the trees, for a long distance, but finally
one by one they abandoned the chase and returned to the scene of the
tragedy.
None
of them had ever seen a man before, other than Tarzan, and so they
wondered vaguely what strange manner of creature it might be that had
invaded their jungle.
On
the far beach by the little cabin Tarzan heard the faint echoes of the
conflict and knowing that something was seriously amiss among the tribe he
hastened rapidly toward the direction of the sound.
When
he arrived he found the entire tribe gathered jabbering about the dead
body of his slain mother.
Tarzan's
grief and anger were unbounded. He
roared out his hideous challenge time and again.
He beat upon his great chest with his clenched fists, and then he
fell upon the body of Kala and sobbed out the pitiful sorrowing of his
lonely heart.
To
lose the only creature in all his world who ever had manifested love and
affection for him was the greatest tragedy he had ever known.
What
though Kala was a fierce and hideous ape!
To Tarzan she had been kind, she had been beautiful.
Upon
her he had lavished, unknown to himself, all the reverence and respect and
love that a normal English boy feels for his own mother.
He had never known another, and so to Kala was given, though
mutely, all that would have belonged to the fair and lovely Lady Alice had
she lived.
After
the first outburst of grief Tarzan controlled himself, and questioning the
members of the tribe who had witnessed the killing of Kala he learned all
that their meager vocabulary could convey.
It
was enough, however, for his needs. It
told him of a strange, hairless, black ape with feathers growing upon its
head, who launched death from a slender branch, and then ran, with the
fleetness of Bara, the deer, toward the rising sun.
Tarzan
waited no longer, but leaping into the branches of the trees sped rapidly
through the forest. He knew
the windings of the elephant trail along which Kala's murderer had flown,
and so he cut straight through the jungle to intercept the black warrior
who was evidently following the tortuous detours of the trail.
At
his side was the hunting knife of his unknown sire, and across his
shoulders the coils of his own long rope.
In an hour he struck the trail again, and coming to earth examined
the soil minutely.
In
the soft mud on the bank of a tiny rivulet he found footprints such as he
alone in all the jungle had ever made, but much larger than his.
His heart beat fast. Could
it be that he was trailing a MAN--one of his own race?
There
were two sets of imprints pointing in opposite directions. So his quarry
had already passed on his return along the trail.
As he examined the newer spoor a tiny particle of earth toppled
from the outer edge of one of the footprints to the bottom of its shallow
depression--ah, the trail was very fresh, his prey must have but scarcely
passed.
Tarzan
swung himself to the trees once more, and with swift noiselessness sped
along high above the trail.
He
had covered barely a mile when he came upon the black warrior standing in
a little open space. In his
hand was his slender bow to which he had fitted one of his death dealing
arrows.
Opposite
him across the little clearing stood Horta, the boar, with lowered head
and foam flecked tucks, ready to charge.
Tarzan
looked with wonder upon the strange creature beneath him--so like him in
form and yet so different in face and color.
His books had portrayed the NEGRO, but how different had been the
dull, dead print to this sleek thing of ebony, pulsing with life.
As
the man stood there with taut drawn bow Tarzan recognized him not so much
the NEGRO as the ARCHER of his picture book--
A stands for Archer
How wonderful! Tarzan
almost betrayed his presence in the deep excitement of his discovery.
But
things were commencing to happen below him.
The sinewy black arm had drawn the shaft far back; Horta, the boar,
was charging, and then the black released the little poisoned arrow, and
Tarzan saw it fly with the quickness of thought and lodge in the bristling
neck of the boar.
Scarcely
had the shaft left his bow ere Kulonga had fitted another to it, but Horta,
the boar, was upon him so quickly that he had no time to discharge it.
With a bound the black leaped entirely over the rushing beast and
turning with incredible swiftness planted a second arrow in Horta's back.
Then
Kulonga sprang into a near-by tree.
Horta
wheeled to charge his enemy once more; a dozen steps he took, then he
staggered and fell upon his side. For
a moment his muscles stiffened and relaxed convulsively, then he lay
still.
Kulonga
came down from his tree.
With
a knife that hung at his side he cut several large pieces from the boar's
body, and in the center of the trail he built a fire, cooking and eating
as much as he wanted. The
rest he left where it had fallen.
Tarzan
was an interested spectator. His
desire to kill burned fiercely in his wild breast, but his desire to learn
was even greater. He would
follow this savage creature for a while and know from whence he came.
He could kill him at his leisure later, when the bow and deadly
arrows were laid aside.
When
Kulonga had finished his repast and disappeared beyond a near turning of
the path, Tarzan dropped quietly to the ground.
With his knife he severed many strips of meat from Horta's carcass,
but he did not cook them.
He
had seen fire, but only when Ara, the lightning, had destroyed some great
tree. That any creature of
the jungle could produce the red-and-yellow fangs which devoured wood and
left nothing but fine dust surprised Tarzan greatly, and why the black
warrior had ruined his delicious repast by plunging it into the blighting
heat was quite beyond him. Possibly Ara was a friend with whom the Archer
was sharing his food.
But,
be that as it may, Tarzan would not ruin good meat in any such foolish
manner, so he gobbled down a great quantity of the raw flesh, burying the
balance of the carcass beside the trail where he could find it upon his
return.
And
then Lord Greystoke wiped his greasy fingers upon his naked thighs and
took up the trail of Kulonga, the son of Mbonga, the king; while in
far-off London another Lord Greystoke, the younger brother of the real
Lord Greystoke's father, sent back his chops to the club's CHEF because
they were underdone, and when he had finished his repast he dipped his
finger-ends into a silver bowl of scented water and dried them upon a
piece of snowy damask.
All
day Tarzan followed Kulonga, hovering above him in the trees like some
malign spirit. Twice more he saw him hurl his arrows of destruction--once at
Dango, the hyena, and again at Manu, the monkey. In each instance the animal died almost instantly, for
Kulonga's poison was very fresh and very deadly.
Tarzan
thought much on this wondrous method of slaying as he swung slowly along
at a safe distance behind his quarry.
He knew that alone the tiny prick of the arrow could not so quickly
dispatch these wild things of the jungle, who were often torn and
scratched and gored in a frightful manner as they fought with their jungle
neighbors, yet as often recovered as not.
No,
there was something mysterious connected with these tiny slivers of wood
which could bring death by a mere scratch.
He must look into the matter.
That
night Kulonga slept in the crotch of a mighty tree and far above him
crouched Tarzan of the Apes.
When
Kulonga awoke he found that his bow and arrows had disappeared.
The black warrior was furious and frightened, but more frightened
than furious. He searched the
ground below the tree, and he searched the tree above the ground; but
there was no sign of either bow or arrows or of the nocturnal marauder.
Kulonga
was panic-stricken. His spear
he had hurled at Kala and had not recovered; and, now that his bow and
arrows were gone, he was defenseless except for a single knife. His only
hope lay in reaching the village of Mbonga as quickly as his legs would
carry him.
That
he was not far from home he was certain, so he took the trail at a rapid
trot.
From
a great mass of impenetrable foliage a few yards away emerged Tarzan of
the Apes to swing quietly in his wake.
Kulonga's
bow and arrows were securely tied high in the top of a giant tree from
which a patch of bark had been removed by a sharp knife near to the
ground, and a branch half cut through and left hanging about fifty feet
higher up. Thus Tarzan blazed the forest trails and marked his caches.
As
Kulonga continued his journey Tarzan closed on him until he traveled
almost over the black's head. His
rope he now held coiled in his right hand; he was almost ready for the
kill.
The
moment was delayed only because Tarzan was anxious to ascertain the black
warrior's destination, and presently he was rewarded, for they came
suddenly in view of a great clearing, at one end of which lay many strange
lairs.
Tarzan
was directly over Kulonga, as he made the discovery. The forest ended
abruptly and beyond lay two hundred yards of planted fields between the
jungle and the village.
Tarzan
must act quickly or his prey would be gone; but Tarzan's life training
left so little space between decision and action when an emergency
confronted him that there was not even room for the shadow of a thought
between.
So
it was that as Kulonga emerged from the shadow of the jungle a slender
coil of rope sped sinuously above him from the lowest branch of a mighty
tree directly upon the edge of the fields of Mbonga, and ere the king's
son had taken a half dozen steps into the clearing a quick noose tightened
about his neck.
So
quickly did Tarzan of the Apes drag back his prey that Kulonga's cry of
alarm was throttled in his windpipe.
Hand over hand Tarzan drew the struggling black until he had him
hanging by his neck in mid-air; then Tarzan climbed to a larger branch
drawing the still threshing victim well up into the sheltering verdure of
the tree.
Here
he fastened the rope securely to a stout branch, and then, descending,
plunged his hunting knife into Kulonga's heart.
Kala was avenged.
Tarzan
examined the black minutely, for he had never seen any other human being.
The knife with its sheath and belt caught his eye; he appropriated
them. A copper anklet also
took his fancy, and this he transferred to his own leg.
He
examined and admired the tattooing on the forehead and breast.
He marveled at the sharp filed teeth. He investigated and
appropriated the feathered headdress, and then he prepared to get down to
business, for Tarzan of the Apes was hungry, and here was meat; meat of
the kill, which jungle ethics permitted him to eat.
How
may we judge him, by what standards, this ape-man with the heart and head
and body of an English gentleman, and the training of a wild beast?
Tublat,
whom he had hated and who had hated him, he had killed in a fair fight,
and yet never had the thought of eating Tublat's flesh entered his head.
It could have been as revolting to him as is cannibalism to us.
But
who was Kulonga that he might not be eaten as fairly as Horta, the boar,
or Bara, the deer? Was he not
simply another of the countless wild things of the jungle who preyed upon
one another to satisfy the cravings of hunger?
Suddenly,
a strange doubt stayed his hand. Had
not his books taught him that he was a man?
And was not The Archer a man, also?
Did
men eat men? Alas, he did not know. Why,
then, this hesitancy! Once
more he essayed the effort, but a qualm of nausea overwhelmed him.
He did not understand.
All
he knew was that he could not eat the flesh of this black man, and thus
hereditary instinct, ages old, usurped the functions of his untaught mind
and saved him from transgressing a worldwide law of whose very existence
he was ignorant.
Quickly
he lowered Kulonga's body to the ground, removed the noose, and took to
the trees again.
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