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Picking
it up to examine it, Clayton gave a cry of astonishment, for the ring bore
the crest of the house of Greystoke.
At
the same time, Jane discovered the books in the cupboard, and on opening
the fly-leaf of one of them saw the name, JOHN CLAYTON, LONDON.
In a second book which she hurriedly examined was the single name,
GREYSTOKE.
"Why,
Mr. Clayton," she cried, "what does this mean? Here are the
names of some of your own people in these books."
"And
here," he replied gravely, "is the great ring of the house of
Greystoke which has been lost since my uncle, John Clayton, the former
Lord Greystoke, disappeared, presumably lost at sea."
"But
how do you account for these things being here, in this savage African
jungle?" exclaimed the girl.
"There
is but one way to account for it, Miss Porter," said Clayton.
"The late Lord Greystoke was not drowned. He died here in this cabin and this poor thing upon the floor
is all that is mortal of him."
"Then
this must have been Lady Greystoke," said Jane reverently, indicating
the poor mass of bones upon the bed.
"The
beautiful Lady Alice," replied Clayton, "of whose many virtues
and remarkable personal charms I often have heard my mother and father
speak. Poor woman," he
murmured sadly.
With
deep reverence and solemnity the bodies of the late Lord and Lady
Greystoke were buried beside their little African cabin, and between them
was placed the tiny skeleton of the baby of Kala, the ape.
As
Mr. Philander was placing the frail bones of the infant in a bit of sail
cloth, he examined the skull minutely.
Then he called Professor Porter to his side, and the two argued in
low tones for several minutes.
"Most
remarkable, most remarkable," said Professor Porter.
"Bless
me," said Mr. Philander, "we must acquaint Mr. Clayton with our
discovery at once."
"Tut,
tut, Mr. Philander, tut, tut!" remonstrated Professor Archimedes Q.
Porter. "`Let the dead
past bury its dead.'"
And
so the white-haired old man repeated the burial service over this strange
grave, while his four companions stood with bowed and uncovered heads
about him.
From
the trees Tarzan of the Apes watched the solemn ceremony; but most of all
he watched the sweet face and graceful figure of Jane Porter.
In
his savage, untutored breast new emotions were stirring. He could not
fathom them. He wondered why he felt so great an interest in these
people--why he had gone to such pains to save the three men. But he did not wonder why he had torn Sabor from the tender
flesh of the strange girl.
Surely
the men were stupid and ridiculous and cowardly. Even Manu, the monkey,
was more intelligent than they. If
these were creatures of his own kind he was doubtful if his past pride in
blood was warranted.
But
the girl, ah--that was a different matter.
He did not reason here. He
knew that she was created to be protected, and that he was created to
protect her.
He
wondered why they had dug a great hole in the ground merely to bury dry
bones. Surely there was no
sense in that; no one wanted to steal dry bones.
Had
there been meat upon them he could have understood, for thus alone might
one keep his meat from Dango, the hyena, and the other robbers of the
jungle.
When
the grave had been filled with earth the little party turned back toward
the cabin, and Esmeralda, still weeping copiously for the two she had
never heard of before today, and who had been dead twenty years, chanced
to glance toward the harbor. Instantly
her tears ceased.
"Look
at them low down white trash out there!" she shrilled, pointing
toward the Arrow. "They-all's
a desecrating us, right here on this here perverted island."
And,
sure enough, the Arrow was being worked toward the open sea, slowly,
through the harbor's entrance.
"They
promised to leave us firearms and ammunition," said Clayton.
"The merciless beasts!"
"It is the work of that fellow they call Snipes, I am
sure," said Jane. "King
was a scoundrel, but he had a little sense of humanity.
If they had not killed him I know that he would have seen that we
were properly provided for before they left us to our fate."
"I
regret that they did not visit us before sailing," said Professor
Porter. "I had proposed
requesting them to leave the treasure with us, as I shall be a ruined man
if that is lost."
Jane
looked at her father sadly.
"Never
mind, dear," she said. "It
wouldn't have done any good, because it is solely for the treasure that
they killed their officers and landed us upon this awful shore."
"Tut,
tut, child, tut, tut!" replied Professor Porter.
"You are a good child, but inexperienced in practical
matters," and Professor Porter turned and walked slowly away toward
the jungle, his hands clasped beneath his long coat tails and his eyes
bent upon the ground.
His
daughter watched him with a pathetic smile upon her lips, and then turning
to Mr. Philander, she whispered:
"Please
don't let him wander off again as he did yesterday. We depend upon you,
you know, to keep a close watch upon him."
"He
becomes more difficult to handle each day," replied Mr. Philander,
with a sigh and a shake of his head.
"I presume he is now off to report to the directors of the Zoo
that one of their lions was at large last night.
Oh, Miss Jane, you don't know what I have to contend with."
"Yes,
I do, Mr. Philander; but while we all love him, you alone are best fitted
to manage him; for, regardless of what he may say to you, he respects your
great learning, and, therefore, has immense confidence in your judgment.
The poor dear cannot differentiate between erudition and
wisdom."
Mr.
Philander, with a mildly puzzled expression on his face, turned to pursue
Professor Porter, and in his mind he was revolving the question of whether
he should feel complimented or aggrieved at Miss Porter's rather
backhanded compliment.
Tarzan
had seen the consternation depicted upon the faces of the little group as
they witnessed the departure of the Arrow; so, as the ship was a wonderful
novelty to him in addition, he determined to hasten out to the point of
land at the north of the harbor's mouth and obtain a nearer view of the
boat, as well as to learn, if possible, the direction of its flight.
Swinging
through the trees with great speed, he reached the point only a moment
after the ship had passed out of the harbor, so that he obtained an
excellent view of the wonders of this strange, floating house.
There
were some twenty men running hither and thither about the deck, pulling
and hauling on ropes.
A
light land breeze was blowing, and the ship had been worked through the
harbor's mouth under scant sail, but now that they had cleared the point
every available shred of canvas was being spread that she might stand out
to sea as handily as possible.
Tarzan
watched the graceful movements of the ship in rapt admiration, and longed
to be aboard her. Presently
his keen eyes caught the faintest suspicion of smoke on the far northern
horizon, and he wondered over the cause of such a thing out on the great
water.
About
the same time the look-out on the Arrow must have discerned it, for in a
few minutes Tarzan saw the sails being shifted and shortened.
The ship came about, and presently he knew that she was beating
back toward land.
A
man at the bows was constantly heaving into the sea a rope to the end of
which a small object was fastened. Tarzan
wondered what the purpose of this action might be.
At
last the ship came up directly into the wind; the anchor was lowered; down
came the sails. There was great scurrying about on deck.
A
boat was lowered, and in it a great chest was placed. Then a dozen sailors
bent to the oars and pulled rapidly toward the point where Tarzan crouched
in the branches of a tree.
In
the stern of the boat, as it drew nearer, Tarzan saw the rat-faced man.
It
was but a few minutes later that the boat touched the beach.
The men jumped out and lifted the great chest to the sand.
They were on the north side of the point so that their presence was
concealed from those at the cabin.
The
men argued angrily for a moment. Then
the rat-faced one, with several companions, ascended the low bluff on
which stood the tree that concealed Tarzan.
They looked about for several minutes.
"Here
is a good place," said the rat-faced sailor, indicating a spot
beneath Tarzan's tree.
"It
is as good as any," replied one of his companions. "If they
catch us with the treasure aboard it will all be confiscated anyway.
We might as well bury it here on the chance that some of us will
escape the gallows to come back and enjoy it later."
The
rat-faced one now called to the men who had remained at the boat, and they
came slowly up the bank carrying picks and shovels.
"Hurry,
you!" cried Snipes.
"Stow
it!" retorted one of the men, in a surly tone.
"You're no admiral, you damned shrimp."
"I'm
Cap'n here, though, I'll have you to understand, you swab," shrieked
Snipes, with a volley of frightful oaths.
"Steady,
boys," cautioned one of the men who had not spoken before.
"It ain't goin' to get us nothing by fightin' amongst
ourselves."
"Right
enough," replied the sailor who had resented Snipes' autocratic
tones; "but it ain't a-goin' to get nobody nothin' to put on airs in
this bloomin' company neither."
"You
fellows dig here," said Snipes, indicating a spot beneath the tree.
"And while you're diggin', Peter kin be a-makin' of a map of
the location so's we kin find it again.
You, Tom, and Bill, take a couple more down and fetch up the
chest."
"Wot
are you a-goin' to do?" asked he of the previous altercation.
"Just boss?"
"Git
busy there," growled Snipes. "You
didn't think your Cap'n was a-goin' to dig with a shovel, did you?"
The
men all looked up angrily. None
of them liked Snipes, and this disagreeable show of authority since he had
murdered King, the real head and ringleader of the mutineers, had only
added fuel to the flames of their hatred.
"Do
you mean to say that you don't intend to take a shovel, and lend a hand
with this work? Your
shoulder's not hurt so all-fired bad as that," said Tarrant, the
sailor who had before spoken.
"Not
by a damned sight," replied Snipes, fingering the butt of his
revolver nervously.
"Then,
by God," replied Tarrant, "if you won't take a shovel you'll
take a pickax."
With
the words he raised his pick above his head, and, with a mighty blow, he
buried the point in Snipes' brain.
For
a moment the men stood silently looking at the result of their fellow's
grim humor. Then one of them spoke.
"Served
the skunk jolly well right," he said.
One
of the others commenced to ply his pick to the ground.
The soil was soft and he threw aside the pick and grasped a shovel;
then the others joined him. There
was no further comment on the killing, but the men worked in a better
frame of mind than they had since Snipes had assumed command.
When
they had a trench of ample size to bury the chest, Tarrant suggested that
they enlarge it and inter Snipes' body on top of the chest.
"It
might 'elp fool any as 'appened to be diggin' 'ereabouts," he
explained.
The
others saw the cunning of the suggestion, and so the trench was lengthened
to accommodate the corpse, and in the center a deeper hole was excavated
for the box, which was first wrapped in sailcloth and then lowered to its
place, which brought its top about a foot below the bottom of the grave.
Earth was shovelled in and tramped down about the chest until the bottom
of the grave showed level and uniform.
Two
of the men rolled the rat-faced corpse unceremoniously into the grave,
after first stripping it of its weapons and various other articles which
the several members of the party coveted for their own.
They
then filled the grave with earth and tramped upon it until it would hold
no more.
The
balance of the loose earth was thrown far and wide, and a mass of dead
undergrowth spread in as natural a manner as possible over the new-made
grave to obliterate all signs of the ground having been disturbed.
Their
work done the sailors returned to the small boat, and pulled off rapidly
toward the Arrow.
The
breeze had increased considerably, and as the smoke upon the horizon was
now plainly discernible in considerable volume, the mutineers lost no time
in getting under full sail and bearing away toward the southwest.
Tarzan,
an interested spectator of all that had taken place, sat speculating on
the strange actions of these peculiar creatures.
Men
were indeed more foolish and more cruel than the beasts of the jungle!
How fortunate was he who lived in the peace and security of the
great forest!
Tarzan
wondered what the chest they had buried contained. If they did not want it
why did they not merely throw it into the water?
That would have been much easier.
Ah,
he thought, but they do want it. They
have hidden it here because they intend returning for it later.
Tarzan
dropped to the ground and commenced to examine the earth about the
excavation. He was looking to
see if these creatures had dropped anything which he might like to own.
Soon he discovered a spade hidden by the underbrush which they had laid
upon the grave.
He
seized it and attempted to use it as he had seen the sailors do.
It was awkward work and hurt his bare feet, but he persevered until
he had partially uncovered the body.
This he dragged from the grave and laid to one side.
Then
he continued digging until he had unearthed the chest. This also he
dragged to the side of the corpse. Then
he filled in the smaller hole below the grave, replaced the body and the
earth around and above it, covered it over with underbrush, and returned
to the chest.
Four
sailors had sweated beneath the burden of its weight --Tarzan of the Apes
picked it up as though it had been an empty packing case, and with the
spade slung to his back by a piece of rope, carried it off into the
densest part of the jungle.
He
could not well negotiate the trees with his awkward burden, but he kept to
the trails, and so made fairly good time.
For
several hours he traveled a little north of east until he came to an
impenetrable wall of matted and tangled vegetation. Then he took to the
lower branches, and in another fifteen minutes he emerged into the
amphitheater of the apes, where they met in council, or to celebrate the
rites of the Dum-Dum.
Near
the center of the clearing, and not far from the drum, or altar, he
commenced to dig. This was harder work than turning up the freshly excavated
earth at the grave, but Tarzan of the Apes was persevering and so he kept
at his labor until he was rewarded by seeing a hole sufficiently deep to
receive the chest and effectually hide it from view.
Why
had he gone to all this labor without knowing the value of the contents of
the chest?
Tarzan
of the Apes had a man's figure and a man's brain, but he was an ape by
training and environment. His
brain told him that the chest contained something valuable, or the men
would not have hidden it. His
training had taught him to imitate whatever was new and unusual, and now
the natural curiosity, which is as common to men as to apes, prompted him
to open the chest and examine its contents.
But
the heavy lock and massive iron bands baffled both his cunning and his
immense strength, so that he was compelled to bury the chest without
having his curiosity satisfied.
By
the time Tarzan had hunted his way back to the vicinity of the cabin,
feeding as he went, it was quite dark.
Within
the little building a light was burning, for Clayton had found an unopened
tin of oil which had stood intact for twenty years, a part of the supplies
left with the Claytons by Black Michael.
The lamps also were still useable, and thus the interior of the
cabin appeared as bright as day to the astonished Tarzan.
He
had often wondered at the exact purpose of the lamps. His reading and the
pictures had told him what they were, but he had no idea of how they could
be made to produce the wondrous sunlight that some of his pictures had
portrayed them as diffusing upon all surrounding objects.
As
he approached the window nearest the door he saw that the cabin had been
divided into two rooms by a rough partition of boughs and sailcloth.
In
the front room were the three men; the two older deep in argument, while
the younger, tilted back against the wall on an improvised stool, was
deeply engrossed in reading one of Tarzan's books.
Tarzan
was not particularly interested in the men, however, so he sought the
other window. There was the girl. How
beautiful her features! How
delicate her snowy skin!
She
was writing at Tarzan's own table beneath the window. Upon a pile of
grasses at the far side of the room lay the Negress asleep.
For
an hour Tarzan feasted his eyes upon her while she wrote.
How he longed to speak to her, but he dared not attempt it, for he
was convinced that, like the young man, she would not understand him, and
he feared, too, that he might frighten her away.
At
length she arose, leaving her manuscript upon the table. She went to the
bed upon which had been spread several layers of soft grasses.
These she rearranged.
Then
she loosened the soft mass of golden hair which crowned her head.
Like a shimmering waterfall turned to burnished metal by a dying
sun it fell about her oval face; in waving lines, below her waist it
tumbled.
Tarzan
was spellbound. Then she
extinguished the lamp and all within the cabin was wrapped in Cimmerian
darkness.
Still
Tarzan watched. Creeping
close beneath the window he waited, listening, for half an hour.
At last he was rewarded by the sounds of the regular breathing
within which denotes sleep.
Cautiously
he intruded his hand between the meshes of the lattice until his whole arm
was within the cabin. Carefully
he felt upon the desk. At
last he grasped the manuscript upon which Jane Porter had been writing,
and as cautiously withdrew his arm and hand, holding the precious
treasure.
Tarzan
folded the sheets into a small parcel which he tucked into the quiver with
his arrows. Then he melted
away into the jungle as softly and as noiselessly as a shadow.
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