After what seemed an eternity
to the little sufferer he was
able to walk once more, and from
then on his recovery was so rapid
that in another month he was
as strong and
active as ever.
During his convalescence he
had gone over in his mind many
times the battle with the gorilla,
and his first thought was to
recover the wonderful little
weapon which had transformed
him from a hopelessly outclassed
weakling to the superior of the
mighty terror of the jungle.
Also, he was anxious to return
to the cabin and continue his
investigations of its wondrous
contents.
So, early one morning, he set
forth alone upon his quest. After
a little search he located the
clean-picked bones of his late
adversary, and close by, partly
buried beneath the fallen leaves,
he found the knife, now red with
rust from its exposure to the
dampness of the ground and from
the dried blood of the gorilla.
He did not like the change
in its former bright and gleaming
surface; but it was still a formidable
weapon, and one which he meant
to use to advantage whenever
the opportunity presented itself.
He had in mind that no more would
he run from the wanton attacks
of old Tublat.
In another moment he was at
the cabin, and after a short
time had again thrown the latch
and entered. His first concern
was to learn the mechanism of
the lock, and this he did by
examining it closely while the
door was open, so that he could
learn precisely what caused it
to hold the door, and by what
means it released at his touch.
He found that he could close
and lock the door from within,
and this he did so that there
would be no chance of his being
molested while at his investigation.
He commenced a systematic search
of the cabin; but his attention
was soon riveted by the books
which seemed to exert a strange
and powerful influence over him,
so that he could scarce attend
to aught else for the lure of
the wondrous puzzle which their
purpose presented to him.
Among the other books were
a primer, some child's readers,
numerous picture books, and a
great dictionary. All of these
he examined, but the pictures
caught his fancy most, though
the strange little bugs which
covered the pages where there
were no pictures excited his
wonder and deepest thought.
Squatting upon his haunches
on the table top in the cabin
his father had built--his smooth,
brown, naked little body bent
over the book which rested in
his strong slender hands, and
his great shock of long, black
hair falling about his well-
shaped head and bright, intelligent
eyes--Tarzan of the apes, little
primitive man, presented a picture
filled, at once, with pathos
and with promise--an allegorical
figure of the primordial groping
through the black night of ignorance
toward the light of learning.
His little face was tense in
study, for he had partially grasped,
in a hazy, nebulous way, the
rudiments of a thought which
was destined to prove the key
and the solution to the puzzling
problem of the strange little
bugs.
In his hands was a primer opened
at a picture of a little ape
similar to himself, but covered,
except for hands and face, with
strange, colored fur, for such
he thought the jacket and trousers
to be. Beneath the picture were
three little bugs--
BOY.
And now he had discovered in
the text upon the page that these
three were repeated many times
in the same sequence.
Another fact he learned--that
there were comparatively few
individual bugs; but these were
repeated many times, occasionally
alone, but more often in company
with others.
Slowly he turned the pages,
scanning the pictures and the
text for a repetition of the
combination B-O-Y. Presently
he found it beneath a picture
of another little ape and a strange
animal which went upon four legs
like the jackal and resembled
him not a little. Beneath this
picture the bugs appeared as:
A BOY AND A DOG
There they were, the three
little bugs which always accompanied
the little ape.
And so he progressed very,
very slowly, for it was a hard
and laborious task which he had
set himself without knowing it--a
task which might seem to you
or me impossible--learning to
read without having the slightest
knowledge of letters or written
language, or the faintest idea
that such things existed.
He did not accomplish it in
a day, or in a week, or in a
month, or in a year; but slowly,
very slowly, he learned after
he had grasped the possibilities
which lay in those little bugs,
so that by the time he was fifteen
he knew the various combinations
of letters which stood for every
pictured figure in the little
primer and in one or two of the
picture books.
Of the meaning and use of the
articles and conjunctions, verbs
and adverbs and pronouns he had
but the faintest conception.
One day when he was about twelve
he found a number of lead pencils
in a hitherto undiscovered drawer
beneath the table, and in scratching
upon the table top with one of
them he was delighted to discover
the black line it left behind
it.
He worked so assiduously with
this new toy that the table top
was soon a mass of scrawly loops
and irregular lines and his pencil-point
worn down to the wood. Then he
took another pencil, but this
time he had a definite object
in view.
He would attempt to reproduce
some of the little bugs that
scrambled over the pages of his
books.
It was a difficult task, for
he held the pencil as one would
grasp the hilt of a dagger, which
does not add greatly to ease
in writing or to the legibility
of the results.
But he persevered for months,
at such times as he was able
to come to the cabin, until at
last by repeated experimenting
he found a position in which
to hold the pencil that best
permitted him to guide and control
it, so that at last he could
roughly reproduce any of the
little bugs.
Thus he made a beginning of
writing.
Copying the bugs taught him
another thing--their number;
and though he could not count
as we understand it, yet he had
an idea of quantity, the base
of his calculations being the
number of fingers upon one of
his hands.
His search through the various
books convinced him that he had
discovered all the different
kinds of bugs most often repeated
in combination, and these he
arranged in proper order with
great ease because of the frequency
with which he had perused the
fascinating alphabet picture
book.
His education progressed; but
his greatest finds were in the
inexhaustible storehouse of the
huge illustrated dictionary,
for he learned more through the
medium of pictures than text,
even after he had grasped the
significance of the bugs.
When he discovered the arrangement
of words in alphabetical order
he delighted in searching for
and finding the combinations
with which he was familiar, and
the words which followed them,
their definitions, led him still
further into the mazes of erudition.
By the time he was seventeen
he had learned to read the simple,
child's primer and had fully
realized the true and wonderful
purpose of the little bugs.
No longer did he feel shame
for his hairless body or his
human features, for now his reason
told him that he was of a different
race from his wild and hairy
companions. He was a M-A-N, they
were A-P-E-S, and the little
apes which scurried through the
forest top were M-O-N-K-E-Y-S.
He knew, too, that old Sabor
was a L-I-O-N-E-S-S, and Histah
a S-N-A-K-E, and Tantor an E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T.
And so he learned to read. From
then on his progress was rapid.
With the help of the great dictionary
and the active intelligence of
a healthy mind endowed by inheritance
with more than ordinary reasoning
powers he shrewdly guessed at
much which he could not really
understand, and more often than
not his guesses were close to
the mark of truth.
There were many breaks in his
education, caused by the migratory
habits of his tribe, but even
when removed from his books his
active brain continued to search
out the mysteries of his fascinating
avocation.
Pieces of bark and flat leaves
and even smooth stretches of
bare earth provided him with
copy books whereon to scratch
with the point of his hunting
knife the lessons he was learning.
Nor did he neglect the sterner
duties of life while following
the bent of his inclination toward
the solving of the mystery of
his library.
He practiced with his rope
and played with his sharp knife,
which he had learned to keep
keen by whetting upon flat stones.
The tribe had grown larger
since Tarzan had come among them,
for under the leadership of Kerchak
they had been able to frighten
the other tribes from their part
of the jungle so that they had
plenty to eat and little or no
loss from predatory incursions
of neighbors.
Hence the younger males as
they became adult found it more
comfortable to take mates from
their own tribe, or if they captured
one of another tribe to bring
her back to Kerchak's band and
live in amity with him rather
than attempt to set up new establishments
of their own, or fight with the
redoubtable Kerchak for supremacy
at home.
Occasionally one more ferocious
than his fellows would attempt
this latter alternative, but
none had come yet who could wrest
the palm of victory from the
fierce and brutal ape.
Tarzan held a peculiar position
in the tribe. They seemed to
consider him one of them and
yet in some way different. The
older males either ignored him
entirely or else hated him so
vindictively that but for his
wondrous agility and speed and
the fierce protection of the
huge Kala he would have been
dispatched at an early age.
Tublat was his most consistent
enemy, but it was through Tublat
that, when he was about thirteen,
the persecution of his enemies
suddenly ceased and he was left
severely alone, except on the
occasions when one of them ran
amuck in the throes of one of
those strange, wild fits of insane
rage which attacks the males
of many of the fiercer animals
of the jungle. Then none was
safe.
On the day that Tarzan established
his right to respect, the tribe
was gathered about a small natural
amphitheater which the jungle
had left free from its entangling
vines and creepers in a hollow
among some low hills.
The open space was almost circular
in shape. Upon every hand rose
the mighty giants of the untouched
forest, with the matted undergrowth
banked so closely between the
huge trunks that the only opening
into the little, level arena
was through the upper branches
of the trees.
Here, safe from interruption,
the tribe often gathered. In
the center of the amphitheater
was one of those strange earthen
drums which the anthropoids build
for the queer rites the sounds
of which men have heard in the
fastnesses of the jungle, but
which none has ever witnessed.
Many travelers have seen the
drums of the great apes, and
some have heard the sounds of
their beating and the noise of
the wild, weird revelry of these
first lords of the jungle, but
Tarzan, Lord Greystoke, is, doubtless,
the only human being who ever
joined in the fierce, mad, intoxicating
revel of the Dum-Dum.
From this primitive function
has arisen, unquestionably, all
the forms and ceremonials of
modern church and state, for
through all the countless ages,
back beyond the uttermost ramparts
of a dawning humanity our fierce,
hairy forebears danced out the
rites of the Dum-Dum to the sound
of their earthen drums, beneath
the bright light of a tropical
moon in the depth of a mighty
jungle which stands unchanged
today as it stood on that long
forgotten night in the dim, unthinkable
vistas of the long dead past
when our first shaggy ancestor
swung from a swaying bough and
dropped lightly upon the soft
turf of the first meeting place.
On the day that Tarzan won
his emancipation from the persecution
that had followed him remorselessly
for twelve of his thirteen years
of life, the tribe, now a full
hundred strong, trooped silently
through the lower terrace of
the jungle trees and dropped
noiselessly upon the floor of
the amphitheater.
The rites of the Dum-Dum marked
important events in the life
of the tribe--a victory, the
capture of a prisoner, the killing
of some large fierce denizen
of the jungle, the death or accession
of a king, and were conducted
with set ceremonialism.
Today it was the killing of
a giant ape, a member of another
tribe, and as the people of Kerchak
entered the arena two mighty
bulls were seen bearing the body
of the vanquished between them.
They laid their burden before
the earthen drum and then squatted
there beside it as guards, while
the other members of the community
curled themselves in grassy nooks
to sleep until the rising moon
should give the signal for the
commencement of their savage
orgy.
For hours absolute quiet reigned
in the little clearing, except
as it was broken by the discordant
notes of brilliantly feathered
parrots, or the screeching and
twittering of the thousand jungle
birds flitting ceaselessly amongst
the vivid orchids and flamboyant
blossoms which festooned the
myriad, moss-covered branches
of the forest kings.
At length as darkness settled
upon the jungle the apes commenced
to bestir themselves, and soon
they formed a great circle about
the earthen drum. The females
and young squatted in a thin
line at the outer periphery of
the circle, while just in front
of them ranged the adult males.
Before the drum sat three old
females, each armed with a knotted
branch fifteen or eighteen inches
in length.
Slowly and softly they began
tapping upon the resounding surface
of the drum as the first faint
rays of the ascending moon silvered
the encircling tree tops.
As the light in the amphitheater
increased the females augmented
the frequency and force of their
blows until presently a wild,
rhythmic din pervaded the great
jungle for miles in every direction.
Huge, fierce brutes stopped in
their hunting, with up-pricked
ears and raised heads, to listen
to the dull booming that betokened
the Dum-Dum of the apes.
Occasionally one would raise
his shrill scream or thunderous
roar in answering challenge to
the savage din of the anthropoids,
but none came near to investigate
or attack, for the great apes,
assembled in all the power of
their numbers, filled the breasts
of their jungle neighbors with
deep respect.
As the din of the drum rose
to almost deafening volume Kerchak
sprang into the open space between
the squatting males and the drummers.
Standing erect he threw his
head far back and looking full
into the eye of the rising moon
he beat upon his breast with
his great hairy paws and emitted
his fearful roaring shriek.
One--twice--thrice that terrifying
cry rang out across the teeming
solitude of that unspeakably
quick, yet unthinkably dead,
world.
Then, crouching, Kerchak slunk
noiselessly around the open circle,
veering far away from the dead
body lying before the altar-drum,
but, as he passed, keeping his
little, fierce, wicked, red eyes
upon the corpse.
Another male then sprang into
the arena, and, repeating the
horrid cries of his king, followed
stealthily in his wake. Another
and another followed in quick
succession until the jungle reverberated
with the now almost ceaseless
notes of their bloodthirsty screams.
It was the challenge and the
hunt.
When all the adult males had
joined in the thin line of circling
dancers the attack commenced.
Kerchak, seizing a huge club
from the pile which lay at hand
for the purpose, rushed furiously
upon the dead ape, dealing the
corpse a terrific blow, at the
same time emitting the growls
and snarls of combat. The din
of the drum was now increased,
as well as the frequency of the
blows, and the warriors, as each
approached the victim of the
hunt and delivered his bludgeon
blow, joined in the mad whirl
of the Death Dance.
Tarzan was one of the wild,
leaping horde. His brown, sweat-streaked,
muscular body, glistening in
the moonlight, shone supple and
graceful among the uncouth, awkward,
hairy brutes about him.
None was more stealthy in the
mimic hunt, none more ferocious
than he in the wild ferocity
of the attack, none who leaped
so high into the air in the Dance
of Death.
As the noise and rapidity of
the drumbeats increased the dancers
apparently became intoxicated
with the wild rhythm and the
savage yells. Their leaps and
bounds increased, their bared
fangs dripped saliva, and their
lips and breasts were flecked
with foam.
For half an hour the weird
dance went on, until, at a sign
from Kerchak, the noise of the
drums ceased, the female drummers
scampering hurriedly through
the line of dancers toward the
outer rim of squatting spectators.
Then, as one, the males rushed
headlong upon the thing which
their terrific blows had reduced
to a mass of hairy pulp.
Flesh seldom came to their
jaws in satisfying quantities,
so a fit finale to their wild
revel was a taste of fresh killed
meat, and it was to the purpose
of devouring their late enemy
that they now turned their attention.
Great fangs sunk into the carcass
tearing away huge hunks, the
mightiest of the apes obtaining
the choicest morsels, while the
weaker circled the outer edge
of the fighting, snarling pack
awaiting their chance to dodge
in and snatch a dropped tidbit
or filch a remaining bone before
all was gone.
Tarzan, more than the apes,
craved and needed flesh. Descended
from a race of meat eaters, never
in his life, he thought, had
he once satisfied his appetite
for animal food; and so now his
agile little body wormed its
way far into the mass of struggling,
rending apes in an endeavor to
obtain a share which his strength
would have been unequal to the
task of winning for him.
At his side hung the hunting
knife of his unknown father in
a sheath self-fashioned in copy
of one he had seen among the
pictures of his treasure-books.
At last he reached the fast
disappearing feast and with his
sharp knife slashed off a more
generous portion than he had
hoped for, an entire hairy forearm,
where it protruded from beneath
the feet of the mighty Kerchak,
who was so busily engaged in
perpetuating the royal prerogative
of gluttony that he failed to
note the act of LESE-MAJESTE.
So little Tarzan wriggled out
from beneath the struggling mass,
clutching his grisly prize close
to his breast.
Among those circling futilely
the outskirts of the banqueters
was old Tublat. He had been among
the first at the feast, but had
retreated with a goodly share
to eat in quiet, and was now
forcing his way back for more.
So it was that he spied Tarzan
as the boy emerged from the clawing,
pushing throng with that hairy
forearm hugged firmly to his
body.
Tublat's little, close-set,
bloodshot, pig-eyes shot wicked
gleams of hate as they fell upon
the object of his loathing. In
them, too, was greed for the
toothsome dainty the boy carried.
But Tarzan saw his arch enemy
as quickly, and divining what
the great beast would do he leaped
nimbly away toward the females
and the young, hoping to hide
himself among them. Tublat, however,
was close upon his heels, so
that he had no opportunity to
seek a place of concealment,
but saw that he would be put
to it to escape at all.
Swiftly he sped toward the
surrounding trees and with an
agile bound gained a lower limb
with one hand, and then, transferring
his burden to his teeth, he climbed
rapidly upward, closely followed
by Tublat.
Up, up he went to the waving
pinnacle of a lofty monarch of
the forest where his heavy pursuer
dared not follow him. There he
perched, hurling taunts and insults
at the raging, foaming beast
fifty feet below him.
And then Tublat went mad.
With horrifying screams and
roars he rushed to the ground,
among the females and young,
sinking his great fangs into
a dozen tiny necks and tearing
great pieces from the backs and
breasts of the females who fell
into his clutches.
In the brilliant moonlight
Tarzan witnessed the whole mad
carnival of rage. He saw the
females and the young scamper
to the safety of the trees. Then
the great bulls in the center
of the arena felt the mighty
fangs of their demented fellow,
and with one accord they melted
into the black shadows of the
overhanging forest.
There was but one in the amphitheater
beside Tublat, a belated female
running swiftly toward the tree
where Tarzan perched, and close
behind her came the awful Tublat.
It was Kala, and as quickly
as Tarzan saw that Tublat was
gaining on her he dropped with
the rapidity of a falling stone,
from branch to branch, toward
his foster mother.
Now she was beneath the overhanging
limbs and close above her crouched
Tarzan, waiting the outcome of
the race.
She leaped into the air grasping
a low-hanging branch, but almost
over the head of Tublat, so nearly
had he distanced her. She should
have been safe now but there
was a rending, tearing sound,
the branch broke and precipitated
her full upon the head of Tublat,
knocking him to the ground.
Both were up in an instant,
but as quick as they had been
Tarzan had been quicker, so that
the infuriated bull found himself
facing the man-child who stood
between him and Kala.
Nothing could have suited the
fierce beast better, and with
a roar of triumph he leaped upon
the little Lord Greystoke. But
his fangs never closed in that
nut brown flesh.
A muscular hand shot out and
grasped the hairy throat, and
another plunged a keen hunting
knife a dozen times into the
broad breast. Like lightning
the blows fell, and only ceased
when Tarzan felt the limp form
crumple beneath him.
As the body rolled to the ground
Tarzan of the Apes placed his
foot upon the neck of his lifelong
enemy and, raising his eyes to
the full moon, threw back his
fierce young head and voiced
the wild and terrible cry of
his people.
One by one the tribe swung
down from their arboreal retreats
and formed a circle about Tarzan
and his vanquished foe. When
they had all come Tarzan turned
toward them.
"I am Tarzan," he cried. "I
am a great killer. Let all respect
Tarzan of the Apes and Kala,
his mother. There be none among
you as mighty as Tarzan. Let
his enemies beware."
Looking full into the wicked,
red eyes of Kerchak, the young
Lord Greystoke beat upon his
mighty breast and screamed out
once more his shrill cry of defiance.
|