In the forest of the table-land
a mile back from the ocean old
Kerchak the Ape was on a rampage
of rage among his people.
The younger and lighter members
of his tribe scampered to the
higher branches of the great
trees to escape his wrath; risking
their lives upon branches that
scarce supported their weight
rather than face old Kerchak
in one of his fits of uncontrolled
anger.
The other males scattered in
all directions, but not before
the infuriated brute had felt
the vertebra of one snap between
his great, foaming jaws.
A luckless young female slipped
from an insecure hold upon a
high branch and came crashing
to the ground almost at Kerchak's
feet.
With a wild scream he was upon
her, tearing a great piece from
her side with his mighty teeth,
and striking her viciously upon
her head and shoulders with a
broken tree limb until her skull
was crushed to a jelly.
And then he spied Kala, who,
returning from a search for food
with her young babe, was ignorant
of the state of the mighty male's
temper until suddenly the shrill
warnings of her fellows caused
her to scamper madly for safety.
But Kerchak was close upon
her, so close that he had almost
grasped her ankle had she not
made a furious leap far into
space from one tree to another--a
perilous chance which apes seldom
if ever take, unless so closely
pursued by danger that there
is no alternative.
She made the leap successfully,
but as she grasped the limb of
the further tree the sudden jar
loosened the hold of the tiny
babe where it clung frantically
to her neck, and she saw the
little thing hurled, turning
and twisting, to the ground thirty
feet below.
With a low cry of dismay Kala
rushed headlong to its side,
thoughtless now of the danger
from Kerchak; but when she gathered
the wee, mangled form to her
bosom life had left it.
With low moans, she sat cuddling
the body to her; nor did Kerchak
attempt to molest her. With the
death of the babe his fit of
demoniacal rage passed as suddenly
as it had seized him.
Kerchak was a huge king ape,
weighing perhaps three hundred
and fifty pounds. His forehead
was extremely low and receding,
his eyes bloodshot, small and
close set to his coarse, flat
nose; his ears large and thin,
but smaller than most of his
kind.
His awful temper and his mighty
strength made him supreme among
the little tribe into which he
had been born some twenty years
before.
Now that he was in his prime,
there was no simian in all the
mighty forest through which he
roved that dared contest his
right to rule, nor did the other
and larger animals molest him.
Old Tantor, the elephant, alone
of all the wild savage life,
feared him not--and he alone
did Kerchak fear. When Tantor
trumpeted, the great ape scurried
with his fellows high among the
trees of the second terrace.
The tribe of anthropoids over
which Kerchak ruled with an iron
hand and bared fangs, numbered
some six or eight families, each
family consisting of an adult
male with his females and their
young, numbering in all some
sixty or seventy apes.
Kala was the youngest mate
of a male called Tublat, meaning
broken nose, and the child she
had seen dashed to death was
her first; for she was but nine
or ten years old.
Notwithstanding her youth,
she was large and powerful--a
splendid, clean-limbed animal,
with a round, high forehead,
which denoted more intelligence
than most of her kind possessed.
So, also, she had a great capacity
for mother love and mother sorrow.
But she was still an ape, a
huge, fierce, terrible beast
of a species closely allied to
the gorilla, yet more intelligent;
which, with the strength of their
cousin, made her kind the most
fearsome of those awe-inspiring
progenitors of man.
When the tribe saw that Kerchak's
rage had ceased they came slowly
down from their arboreal retreats
and pursued again the various
occupations which he had interrupted.
The young played and frolicked
about among the trees and bushes.
Some of the adults lay prone
upon the soft mat of dead and
decaying vegetation which covered
the ground, while others turned
over pieces of fallen branches
and clods of earth in search
of the small bugs and reptiles
which formed a part of their
food.
Others, again, searched the
surrounding trees for fruit,
nuts, small birds, and eggs.
They had passed an hour or
so thus when Kerchak called them
together, and, with a word of
command to them to follow him,
set off toward the sea.
They traveled for the most
part upon the ground, where it
was open, following the path
of the great elephants whose
comings and goings break the
only roads through those tangled
mazes of bush, vine, creeper,
and tree. When they walked it
was with a rolling, awkward motion,
placing the knuckles of their
closed hands upon the ground
and swinging their ungainly bodies
forward.
But when the way was through
the lower trees they moved more
swiftly, swinging from branch
to branch with the agility of
their smaller cousins, the monkeys.
And all the way Kala carried
her little dead baby hugged closely
to her breast.
It was shortly after noon when
they reached a ridge overlooking
the beach where below them lay
the tiny cottage which was Kerchak's
goal.
He had seen many of his kind
go to their deaths before the
loud noise made by the little
black stick in the hands of the
strange white ape who lived in
that wonderful lair, and Kerchak
had made up his brute mind to
own that death-dealing contrivance,
and to explore the interior of
the mysterious den.
He wanted, very, very much,
to feel his teeth sink into the
neck of the queer animal that
he had learned to hate and fear,
and because of this, he came
often with his tribe to reconnoiter,
waiting for a time when the white
ape should be off his guard.
Of late they had quit attacking,
or even showing themselves; for
every time they had done so in
the past the little stick had
roared out its terrible message
of death to some member of the
tribe.
Today there was no sign of
the man about, and from where
they watched they could see that
the cabin door was open. Slowly,
cautiously, and noiselessly they
crept through the jungle toward
the little cabin.
There were no growls, no fierce
screams of rage--the little black
stick had taught them to come
quietly lest they awaken it.
On, on they came until Kerchak
himself slunk stealthily to the
very door and peered within.
Behind him were two males, and
then Kala, closely straining
the little dead form to her breast.
Inside the den they saw the
strange white ape lying half
across a table, his head buried
in his arms; and on the bed lay
a figure covered by a sailcloth,
while from a tiny rustic cradle
came the plaintive wailing of
a babe.
Noiselessly Kerchak entered,
crouching for the charge; and
then John Clayton rose with a
sudden start and faced them.
The sight that met his eyes
must have frozen him with horror,
for there, within the door, stood
three great bull apes, while
behind them crowded many more;
how many he never knew, for his
revolvers were hanging on the
far wall beside his rifle, and
Kerchak was charging.
When the king ape released
the limp form which had been
John Clayton, 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.
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