From a lofty perch Tarzan viewed
the village of thatched huts
across the intervening plantation.
He saw that at one point the
forest touched the village, and
to this spot he made his way,
lured by a fever of curiosity
to behold animals of his own
kind, and to learn more of their
ways and view the strange lairs
in which they lived.
His savage life among the fierce
wild brutes of the jungle left
no opening for any thought that
these could be aught else than
enemies. Similarity of form led
him into no erroneous conception
of the welcome that would be
accorded him should he be discovered
by these, the first of his own
kind he had ever seen.
Tarzan of the Apes was no sentimentalist.
He knew nothing of the brotherhood
of man. All things outside his
own tribe were his deadly enemies,
with the few exceptions of which
Tantor, the elephant, was a marked
example.
And he realized all this without
malice or hatred. To kill was
the law of the wild world he
knew. Few were his primitive
pleasures, but the greatest of
these was to hunt and kill, and
so he accorded to others the
right to cherish the same desires
as he, even though he himself
might be the object of their
hunt.
His strange life had left him
neither morose nor bloodthirsty.
That he joyed in killing, and
that he killed with a joyous
laugh upon his handsome lips
betokened no innate cruelty.
He killed for food most often,
but, being a man, he sometimes
killed for pleasure, a thing
which no other animal does; for
it has remained for man alone
among all creatures to kill senselessly
and wantonly for the mere pleasure
of inflicting suffering and death.
And when he killed for revenge,
or in self-defense, he did that
also without hysteria, for it
was a very businesslike proceeding
which admitted of no levity.
So it was that now, as he cautiously
approached the village of Mbonga,
he was quite prepared either
to kill or be killed should he
be discovered. He proceeded with
unwonted stealth, for Kulonga
had taught him great respect
for the little sharp splinters
of wood which dealt death so
swiftly and unerringly.
At length he came to a great
tree, heavy laden with thick
foliage and loaded with pendant
loops of giant creepers. From
this almost impenetrable bower
above the village he crouched,
looking down upon the scene below
him, wondering over every feature
of this new, strange life.
There were naked children running
and playing in the village street.
There were women grinding dried
plantain in crude stone mortars,
while others were fashioning
cakes from the powdered flour.
Out in the fields he could see
still other women hoeing, weeding,
or gathering.
All wore strange protruding
girdles of dried grass about
their hips and many were loaded
with brass and copper anklets,
armlets and bracelets. Around
many a dusky neck hung curiously
coiled strands of wire, while
several were further ornamented
by huge nose rings.
Tarzan of the Apes looked with
growing wonder at these strange
creatures. Dozing in the shade
he saw several men, while at
the extreme outskirts of the
clearing he occasionally caught
glimpses of armed warriors apparently
guarding the village against
surprise from an attacking enemy.
He noticed that the women alone
worked. Nowhere was there evidence
of a man tilling the fields or
performing any of the homely
duties of the village.
Finally his eyes rested upon
a woman directly beneath him.
Before her was a small cauldron
standing over a low fire and
in it bubbled a thick, reddish,
tarry mass. On one side of her
lay a quantity of wooden arrows
the points of which she dipped
into the seething substance,
then laying them upon a narrow
rack of boughs which stood upon
her other side.
Tarzan of the Apes was fascinated.
Here was the secret of the terrible
destructiveness of The Archer's
tiny missiles. He noted the extreme
care which the woman took that
none of the matter should touch
her hands, and once when a particle
spattered upon one of her fingers
he saw her plunge the member
into a vessel of water and quickly
rub the tiny stain away with
a handful of leaves.
Tarzan knew nothing of poison,
but his shrewd reasoning told
him that it was this deadly stuff
that killed, and not the little
arrow, which was merely the messenger
that carried it into the body
of its victim.
How he should like to have
more of those little death-dealing
slivers. If the woman would only
leave her work for an instant
he could drop down, gather up
a handful, and be back in the
tree again before she drew three
breaths.
As he was trying to think out
some plan to distract her attention
he heard a wild cry from across
the clearing. He looked and saw
a black warrior standing beneath
the very tree in which he had
killed the murderer of Kala an
hour before.
The fellow was shouting and
waving his spear above his head.
Now and again he would point
to something on the ground before
him.
The village was in an uproar
instantly. Armed men rushed from
the interior of many a hut and
raced madly across the clearing
toward the excited sentry. After
them trooped the old men, and
the women and children until,
in a moment, the village was
deserted.
Tarzan of the Apes knew that
they had found the body of his
victim, but that interested him
far less than the fact that no
one remained in the village to
prevent his taking a supply of
the arrows which lay below him.
Quickly and noiselessly he
dropped to the ground beside
the cauldron of poison. For a
moment he stood motionless, his
quick, bright eyes scanning the
interior of the palisade.
No one was in sight. His eyes
rested upon the open doorway
of a nearby hut. He would take
a look within, thought Tarzan,
and so, cautiously, he approached
the low thatched building.
For a moment he stood without,
listening intently. There was
no sound, and he glided into
the semi-darkness of the interior.
Weapons hung against the walls--long
spears, strangely shaped knives,
a couple of narrow shields. In
the center of the room was a
cooking pot, and at the far end
a litter of dry grasses covered
by woven mats which evidently
served the owners as beds and
bedding. Several human skulls
lay upon the floor.
Tarzan of the
Apes felt of each article,
hefted the spears,
smelled of them, for he "saw" largely
through his sensitive and highly
trained nostrils. He determined
to own one of these long, pointed
sticks, but he could not take
one on this trip because of the
arrows he meant to carry.
As he took each article from
the walls, he placed it in a
pile in the center of the room.
On top of all he placed the cooking
pot, inverted, and on top of
this he laid one of the grinning
skulls, upon which he fastened
the headdress of the dead Kulonga.
Then he stood back, surveyed
his work, and grinned. Tarzan
of the Apes enjoyed a joke.
But now he heard, outside,
the sounds of many voices, and
long mournful howls, and mighty
wailing. He was startled. Had
he remained too long? Quickly
he reached the doorway and peered
down the village street toward
the village gate.
The natives were not yet in
sight, though he could plainly
hear them approaching across
the plantation. They must be
very near.
Like a flash he sprang across
the opening to the pile of arrows.
Gathering up all he could carry
under one arm, he overturned
the seething cauldron with a
kick, and disappeared into the
foliage above just as the first
of the returning natives entered
the gate at the far end of the
village street. Then he turned
to watch the proceeding below,
poised like some wild bird ready
to take swift wing at the first
sign of danger.
The natives filed up the street,
four of them bearing the dead
body of Kulonga. Behind trailed
the women, uttering strange cries
and weird lamentation. On they
came to the portals of Kulonga's
hut, the very one in which Tarzan
had wrought his depredations.
Scarcely had half a dozen entered
the building ere they came rushing
out in wild, jabbering confusion.
The others hastened to gather
about. There was much excited
gesticulating, pointing, and
chattering; then several of the
warriors approached and peered
within.
Finally an old fellow with
many ornaments of metal about
his arms and legs, and a necklace
of dried human hands depending
upon his chest, entered the hut.
It was Mbonga, the king, father
of Kulonga.
For a few moments all was silent.
Then Mbonga emerged, a look of
mingled wrath and superstitious
fear writ upon his hideous countenance.
He spoke a few words to the assembled
warriors, and in an instant the
men were flying through the little
village searching minutely every
hut and corner within the palisades.
Scarcely had the search commenced
than the overturned cauldron
was discovered, and with it the
theft of the poisoned arrows.
Nothing more they found, and
it was a thoroughly awed and
frightened group of savages which
huddled around their king a few
moments later.
Mbonga could explain nothing
of the strange events that had
taken place. The finding of the
still warm body of Kulonga--on
the very verge of their fields
and within easy earshot of the
village--knifed and stripped
at the door of his father's home,
was in itself sufficiently mysterious,
but these last awesome discoveries
within the village, within the
dead Kulonga's own hut, filled
their hearts with dismay, and
conjured in their poor brains
only the most frightful of superstitious
explanations.
They stood in little groups,
talking in low tones, and ever
casting affrighted glances behind
them from their great rolling
eyes.
Tarzan of the Apes watched
them for a while from his lofty
perch in the great tree. There
was much in their demeanor which
he could not understand, for
of superstition he was ignorant,
and of fear of any kind he had
but a vague conception.
The sun was high in the heavens.
Tarzan had not broken fast this
day, and it was many miles to
where lay the toothsome remains
of Horta the boar.
So he turned his back upon
the village of Mbonga and melted
away into the leafy fastness
of the forest.
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