Tarzan of the Apes lived on
in his wild, jungle existence
with little change for several
years, only that he grew stronger
and wiser, and learned from his
books more and more of the strange
worlds which lay somewhere outside
his
primeval forest.
To him life was never monotonous
or stale. There was always Pisah,
the fish, to be caught in the
many streams and the little lakes,
and Sabor, with her ferocious
cousins to keep one ever on the
alert and give zest to every
instant that one spent upon the
ground.
Often they hunted him, and
more often he hunted them, but
though they never quite reached
him with those cruel, sharp claws
of theirs, yet there were times
when one could scarce have passed
a thick leaf between their talons
and his smooth hide.
Quick was Sabor, the lioness,
and quick were Numa and Sheeta,
but Tarzan of the Apes was lightning.
With Tantor, the elephant,
he made friends. How? Ask not.
But this is known to the denizens
of the jungle, that on many moonlight
nights Tarzan of the Apes and
Tantor, the elephant, walked
together, and where the way was
clear Tarzan rode, perched high
upon Tantor's mighty back.
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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