 CHAPTER ONE OF THE BEAST OF TARZAN The entire affair is shrouded in mystery, said Darno. I have it on the best of authority that neither the police nor the special agents of the general staff have the faintest conception of how it was accomplished. All they know, all that anyone knows, is that Nicholas Rokov has escaped. John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, he who had been Tarzan of the apes, sat in silence in the apartments of his friend, Lieutenant Paul Darno, in Paris, gazing meditatively at the toe of his immaculate boot. His mind revolved many memories, recalled by the escape of his arch-enemy from the French military prison to which he had been sentenced for life upon the testimony of the eight men. He thought of the lengths to which Rokov had once gone to compass his death, and he realized that what the man had already done would doubtless be as nothing by comparison with what he would wish and plot to do now that he was again free. Tarzan had recently brought his wife and infant son to London to escape the discomforts and dangers of the rainy season upon their vast estate in Uziri. The land of the savage was Zeri warriors whose broad African domains the eight men once ruled. He had run across the channel for a brief visit with his old friend, but the news of the Russians escape had already cast a shadow upon his outing, so that though he had but just arrived, he was already contemplating an immediate return to London. It is not that I fear for myself, Paul, he said at last. Many times in the past have I thwarted Rokov's designs upon my life, but now there are others to consider. Unless I misjudge the man, he would more quickly strike at me through my wife or son than directly at me, for he doubtless realizes that in no other way could he inflict greater anguish upon me. I must go back to them at once, and remain with them until Rokov is recaptured, or dead. As these two talked in Paris, two other men were talking together in a little cottage upon the outskirts of London, both for dark, sinister-looking men. One was bearded, but the other, whose face bore the pallor of long confinement within doors, had but a few days' growth of black beard upon his face. It was he who was speaking. You must need shave off that beard of yours, Alexis, he said to his companion. With it he would recognize you on the instant. We must separate here in the hour, and when we meet again upon the deck of the Kincaid, let us hope that we shall have with us two honored guests who little anticipate the pleasant voyage we have planned for them. In two hours I should be upon my way to Dover with one of them, and by tomorrow night, if you follow my instructions carefully, you should arrive with the other, provided, of course, that he returns to London as quickly as I presume he will. There should be both profit and pleasure, as well as other good things, to reward our efforts, my dear Alexis. Thanks to the stupidity of the French, they have gone to such links to conceal the fact of my escape for these many days that I have had ample opportunity to work out every detail of our little adventure so carefully that there is little chance of the slightest hitch occurring to mar our prospects. And now good-bye, and good luck. Three hours later, a messenger mounted the steps to the apartment of Lieutenant Darno. A telegram for Lord Greystoke, he said, to the servant who answered his summons. Is he here? The man entered in the affirmative, and, signing for the message, carried it within to Tarzan, who was already preparing to depart for London. Tarzan tore open the envelope, and as he read, his face went white. Read it, Paul, he said, handing the slip of paper to Darno. It has come already. The Frenchman took the telegram and read, Jack stolen from the garden through complicity of new servant. Come at once, Jane. As Tarzan leaped from the roadster that had met him at the station and ran up the steps to his London townhouse, he was met at the door by a dry-eyed, but almost frantic woman. Quickly Jane Porter Clayton narrated all that she had been able to learn of the theft of the boy. The baby's nurse had been wheeling him in the sunshine on the walk before the house, when a closed taxi cab drew up at the corner of the street. The woman had paid by passing attention to the vehicle, merely noting that it discharged no passenger, but stood at the curb with the motor running as though waiting for a fare from the resident before which it had stopped. Almost immediately, the new houseman, Carl, had come running from the Greystoke house, saying that the girl's mistress wished to speak with her for a moment, and that she was to leave little Jack in his care until she returned. The woman said that she entertained not the slightest suspicion of the man's motives until she had reached the doorway of the house, when it occurred to her to warn him not to turn the carriage so as to permit the sun to shine in the baby's eyes. As she turned about to call this to him, she was somewhat surprised to see that he was wheeling the carriage rapidly towards the corner, and at the same time she saw the door of the taxi cab open and a swarthy faith frame for a moment in the aperture. Intuitively, the danger to the child flashed upon her, and with a streak, she dashed down the steps and up the walk toward the taxi cab into which Carl was now handing the baby to the swarthy one within. Just before she reached the vehicle, Carl leaped in beside his confederate, slamming the door behind him. At the same time, the chauffeur attempted to start his machine, but it was evident that something had gone wrong, as though the gears refused to mesh. And the delay caused by this, while he pushed the lever into reverse, and backed the car a few inches before again attempting to go ahead, gave the nurse time to reach the side of the taxi cab. Leaping to the running board, she had attempted to snatch the baby from the arms of the stranger, and here, screaming and fighting, she had clung to her position even after the taxi cab had got under way. Nor was it until the machine had passed the gray stoke resonance at good speed that Carl, with a heavy blow to her face, had succeeded in knocking her to the pavement. Her screams had attracted servants and members of the families from residences nearby, as well as from the gray stoke home. Lady Gray Stoke had witnessed the girl's brave battle, and had herself tried to reach the rapidly passing vehicle, but had been too late. That was all that anyone knew, nor did Lady Gray Stoke dream of the possible identity of the man at the bottom of the plot until her husband told her of the escape of Nicholas Rokoff from the French prison where they had hoped he was permanently confined. As Tarzan and his wife stood planning the wisest course to pursue, the telephone bell rang in the library at their right. Tarzan quickly answered the call in person. Lord Gray Stoke asked the man's voice at the other end of the line. Yes. Your son has been stolen, continued the voice, and I alone may help you to recover him. I am conversant with the plot of those who took him. In fact, I was a party to it, and was to share in the reward. But now they are trying to ditch me, and to be quits with them, I will aid you to recover him on condition that you will not prosecute me for my part in the crime. What do you say? If you leave me to where my son is hidden, replied the eight man, you need fear nothing from me. Good, replied the other, but you must come alone to meet me. For it is enough that I must trust you. I cannot take the chance of permitting others to learn my identity. Where and when may I meet you, asked Tarzan. The other gave the name and location of a public house on the waterfront at Dover. A place frequented by sailors. Come, he concluded, about ten o'clock tonight. It would do no good to arrive earlier. Your son will be safe enough in the meantime, and I can then lead you secretly to where he is hidden. But be sure to come alone, and in no circumstances notify Scotland Yard, for I know you well, and shall be watching for you. Should any other accompany you, or should I see suspicious characters who might be agents of the police? I shall not meet you, and your last chance of recovering your son will be gone. Without more words, the man rang off. Tarzan repeated the gist of the conversation to his wife. She begged to be allowed to accompany him, but he insisted that it might result in the man's carrying out his threat of refusing to aid them, if Tarzan did not come alone. And so they parted, he to hasten to Dover, and she ostensibly to wait at home until he should notify her of the outcome of his mission. Little did either dream of what both were destined to pass through before they should meet again, or the far distant, but why anticipate? For ten minutes after the eight-man had left her, Jane Clayton walked restlessly back and forth across the silken rugs of the library. Her mother heart ached, bereft of its first born. Her mind was in an anguish of hopes and fears. Though her judgment told her that all would be well were her Tarzan to go alone in accordance with the mysterious stranger summons, her intuition would not permit her to lay aside suspicion of the gravestangers to both her husband and her son. The more she thought of the matter, the more convinced she became that the recent telephone message might be but a ruse to keep them inactive until the boy was safely hidden away or spirited out of England. Or it might be it had been simply a bait to lure Tarzan into the hands of the implacable Rokof. With the lodgemen of this thought she stopped in wide-eyed terror. Instantly it became a conviction. She glanced at the great clock, ticking the minutes in the corner of the library. It was too late to catch the Dover train that Tarzan was to take. There was another later, however, that would bring her to the Channel Port in time to reach the address the stranger had given her husband before the appointed hour. Summoning her maid and chauffeur, she issued instructions rapidly. Ten minutes later she was being whisked through the crowded streets toward the railway station. It was nine forty-five that night that Tarzan entered the squalid pub on the waterfront in Dover. As he passed into the evil-smelling room, a muffled figure brushed past him toward the street. "'Come, my lord,' whispered the stranger. The eight-man wheeled about and followed the other into the ill-lit alley, which custom had dignified with the title of thoroughfare. Once outside the fellow led the way into the darkness, nearer a wharf, where high-piled veils, boxes and casks cast dense shadows. Here he halted. "'Where is the boy?' asked Grey Stoke. On that small steamer whose light you can just see yonder,' replied the other. In the gloom Tarzan was trying to peer into the features of his companion, but he did not recognize the man as one whom he had ever before seen. Had he guessed that his guide was Alexis Pulvich, he would have realized that not but treachery lay in the man's heart, and that danger lurked in the path of every move. He is unguarded now, continued the Russian. Those who took him feel perfectly safe from detection, and with the exception of a couple of members of the crew, whom I have furnished with enough gin to silence them effectively for hours, there is none aboard the concaid. We can go aboard, get the child, and return without the slightest fear. Tarzan nodded. "'Let's be about it, then,' he said. His guide led him to a small boat moored alongside the wharf. The two men entered, and Pulvich pulled rapidly toward the steamer. The black smoke issuing from her funnel did not at the time make any suggestion to Tarzan's mind. While his thoughts were occupied with the hope that in a few moments he would again have his little son in his arms. At the steamer's side, they found the monkey ladder dangling close above them, and up this the two men crept stealthily. Once on deck, they hastened aft to where the Russian pointed to a hatch. "'The boy is hidden there,' he said. "'You have better go down after him, as there is less chance that he will cry in fright than should he find himself in the arms of a stranger. I will stand on guard here.' So anxious was Tarzan to rescue the child that he gave not the slightest thought to the strangeness of all the conditions surrounding the concaid, that her deck was deserted though she had steam up, and from the volume of smoke pouring from her funnel was all ready to get under way made no impression upon him. With the thought that in another instant he would fold that precious little bundle of humanity in his arms, the eight men swung down into the darkness below. Scarcely had he released his hold upon the edge of the hatch, then the heavy covering fell clattering above him. Instantly he knew that he was a victim of a plot, and that far from rescuing his son, he had himself fallen into the hands of his enemies. Though he immediately endeavored to reach the hatch and lift the cover, he was unable to do so. Striking a match, he explored his surroundings, finding that a little compartment had been partitioned off from the main hold, with the hatch above his head the only means of ingress or egress. It was evidence that the room had been prepared for the very purpose of serving as a cell for himself. There was nothing in the compartment and no other occupant. If the child was on board the concaid, he was confined elsewhere. For over twenty years, from infancy to manhood, the eight men had roamed his savage jungle's haunts without human companionship of any nature. He had learned that the most impressionable period of his life to take his pleasures and his sorrows as the beasts take theirs. So it was that he neither raved nor stormed against fate, but instead waited patiently for what might next befall him, though not by any means without an eye to doing the utmost to secure himself. To this end he examined his prison carefully, tested the heavy planking that formed its walls, and measured the distance of the hatch above him. And while he was thus occupied, there came suddenly to him the vibration of machinery and the throbbing of the propeller. The ship was moving, where to, and to what fate was it carrying him? And even as these thoughts passed through his mind, there came to his ears above the den of the engines that which caused him to go cold with apprehension. Clear and shrill from the deck above him rang the scream of a frightened woman. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of The Beasts of Tarzan. As Tarzan and his guide had disappeared into the shadows upon the dark wharf, the figure of a heavily veiled woman had hurried down the narrow alley to the entrance of the drinking-place the two men had just quitted. Here she paused and looked about, and then, as though satisfied that she had at last reached the place she sought, she pushed bravely into the interior of the vile den. A score of half-drunken sailors and wharf rats looked up at the unaccustomed sight of a richly gowned woman in their midst. Suddenly she approached the slovenly barmaid who stared half in envy, half in hate at her more fortunate sister. "'Have you seen a tall, well-dressed man here, but a minute since?' she asked. Who met another and went away with him?' The girl answered in the affirmative, but could not tell which way the two had gone. A sailor, who had approached to listen to the conversation, vouched safe to the information that a moment before, as he had been about to enter the pub, he had seen two men leaving it, who walked towards the wharf. "'Show me the direction they went,' cried the woman, slipping a coin into the man's hand. The fellow led her from the place, and together they walked quickly toward the wharf, and along it until across the water they saw a small boat just pulling into the shadows of a nearby steamer. "'There they be,' whispered the man. "'Ten pounds if you will find a boat in Rome to that steamer,' cried the woman. "'Quickly then,' he replied, for we've got to go to it if we're going to catch the concained before she sails. She's had steam up for three hours, and just been a-waiting for that one passenger. I was a-talking to one of her crew half an hour ago.' As he spoke, he led the way to the end of the wharf, where he knew another boat lay moored, and, lowering the woman into it, he jumped in after and pushed off. The two were soon scutting over the water. At the steamer's side the man demanded his pay, and without waiting to count out the exact amount, the woman thrust a handful of banknotes into his outstretched hand. A single glance at them convinced the fellow that he had been more than well-paid. Then he assisted her up the ladder, holding his skiff close to the ship's side against the chance that this profitable passenger might wish to be taken ashore later. But presently the sound of the donkey engine and the rattle of a steel cable on the hoisting drum proclaimed the fact that the concained's anchor was being raised. And a moment later the waiter heard the propellers revolving, and slowly the little steamer moved away from him out into the channel. As he turned to row back to shore he heard a woman shriek from the ship's deck. That's what I call rotten luck, he soliloquied. I might just as well have added the old bloom and wad. When Jane Clayton climbed to the deck of the concained, she found the ship apparently deserted. There was no sign of those she saw nor of any other aboard. And so she went about her search for her husband and the child she hoped against hope to find there without interruption. Quickly she hastened to the cabin, which was half above and half below deck. As she hurried down the short companion ladder into the main cabin, on either side of which were the smaller rooms occupied by the officers, she failed to note the quick closing of one of the doors before her. She passed the full length of the main room, and then retracing her steps stopped before each door to listen, furtively trying each latch. All was silence, utter silence there, in which the throbbing of her own frightened heart seemed to her overwrought imagination to fill the ship with its thunderous alarm. One by one the doors opened before her touch, only to reveal empty interiors. In her absorption she did not note the sudden activity upon the vessel, the purring of the engines, the throbbing of the propeller. She had reached the last door upon the right now, and as she pushed it open she was seized from within by a powerful dark visage man, and drawn hastily into the stuffy, ill-smelling interior. The sudden shock of fright, which the unexpected attack had upon her, drew a single piercing scream from her throat. Then the man clapped a hand roughly over the mouth. Not until we are further from land, my dear, he said, then you may yell your pretty head off. Lady Grey Stoke turned to look into the leering bearded face so close to hers. The man relaxed the pressure of his fingers upon her lips, and with a little moan of terror as she recognized him the girl shrank away from her captor. Nikolas Rokov, M. Thurand, she explained. Your devoted admirer, replied the Russian, with a low bow. My little boy, she said next, ignoring the terms of endearment. Where is he? Let me have him. How could you be so cruel, even as you, Nikolas Rokov, cannot be entirely devoid of mercy and compassion? Tell me where he is. Is he aboard this ship? Oh, please! If such a thing as a heart beats within your breast, take me to my baby. But if you do as you are bid, no harm will befall him, replied Rokov. But remember that it is your own fault that you are here. You came aboard voluntarily, and you may take the consequences. I little thought, he added to himself, that any such good luck as this would come to me. He went on deck, then, locking the cabin door upon his prisoner, and for several days she did not see him. The truth of the matter being that Nikolas Rokov was so poor a sailor that the heavy seas the cancane encountered from the very beginning of her voyage sent the Russian to his birth with a bad attack of seasickness. During this time her only visitor was an uncouth swede, the concaged and savoury cook, who brought her meals to her. His name was Sven Andersen, his one pride being that his patronymic was spelt with a double S. The man was tall and raw-boned, with a long yellow mustache, an unwholesome complexion, and filthy nails. The very sight of him, with one grimy thumb buried deep in the lukewarm stew that seemed from the frequency of its repetition to constitute the pride of his culinary art, was sufficient to take away the girl's appetite. His small, blue, close-set eyes never met her squarely. There was a shiftiness of his whole appearance that even found expression in the cat-like manner of his gait. And to it all, a sinister suggestion was added by the long, slim knife that always rested at his waist, slipped through the greasy cord that supported his soiled apron. Extensibly, it was but an implement of his calling. But the girl could never free herself of the conviction that it would require less provocation to witness it put to other and less harmless uses. His manner toward her was surly, yet she never failed to meet him with a pleasant smile and a word of thanks when he brought her food to her. Though more often than not, she hurled the bulk of it through the tiny cabin port the moment that the door closed behind him. During the days of anguish that followed Jane Clayton's imprisonment, but two questions were uppermost in her mind, the whereabouts of her husband and her son. She fully believed that the baby was aboard the concave, provided that he still lived. But whether Tarzan had been permitted to live after having been lured aboard the evil craft, she could not guess. She knew, of course, the deep hatred that the Russian felt for the Englishman, and she could think of but one reason for having him brought aboard the ship, to dispatch him in comparative safety and revenge for his having thwarted Rokov's pet schemes, and for having been at last the means of landing him in a French prison. Tarzan, on his part, lay in the darkness of his cell, ignorant of the fact that his wife was a prisoner and the cabin almost above his head. The same swede that served Jane brought his meals to him, but, though on several occasions Tarzan had tried to draw the man into conversation, he had been unsuccessful. He had hoped to learn through this fellow whether his little son was aboard the concave, but to every question upon this or kindred subjects, the fellow returned but one reply. I take it blow pretty soon, pretty hard. So after several attempts Tarzan gave it up. For weeks that seemed months to the two prisoners, the little steamer forged on they do not wear. Once the concave stopped to coal, only immediately to take up the seemingly interminable voyage. Rokov had visited Jane Clayton but once since he had locked her in the tiny cabin. He had come gaunt and hollow-eyed from a long siege of seasickness. The object of his visit was to obtain from her her personal check for a large sum in return for a guarantee of her personal safety and return to England. When you set me down safely in any civilized port, together with my son and my husband, she replied, I will pay you in gold twice the amount you ask. But until then you shall not have a cent, nor the promise of a cent, under any other conditions. You will give me the check, I ask, he replied with a snarl. For neither you, nor your child, nor your husband, will ever again set foot within any port, civilized or otherwise. I would not trust you, she replied. What guarantee have I that you would not take my money and then do as you please with me and mine, regardless of your promise? I think you will do as I bid, he said, turning to leave the cabin. Remember that I have your son. If you chance to hear the agonized wail of a tortured child, it may console you to reflect that it is because of your stubbornness that the baby suffers, and that it is your baby. You would not do it, cried the girl. You would not, could not, be so fiendishly cruel. It is not I that am cruel, but you, he returned. For you permit a paltry sum of money to stand between your baby and immunity from suffering. The end of it was that Jane Clayton rode out a check of large denomination and handed it to Nicholas Rokoff, who left her cabin with a grin of satisfaction upon his lips. The following day the hatch was removed from Tarzan's cell, and as he looked up he saw Pauvich's head framed in the square of light above him. Come up, commanded the Russian, but bear in mind that you will be shot if you make a single move to attack me or any other aboard the ship. The eight-man swung himself lightly to the deck, about him, but at a respectful distance, stood a half-dozen sailors armed with rifles and revolvers. Facing him was Pauvich. Jane looked about for Rokoff, who he felt sure must be a board, but there was no sign of him. Lord Grey Stoke, commits the Russian, by your continued and wanted interference with M. Rokoff and his plans. You have at last brought yourself and your family to this unfortunate extremity. You have only yourself to thank. As you may imagine, it has cost M. Rokoff a large amount of money to finance this expedition, and, as you were the sole cause of it, he naturally looks to you for reimbursement. Further, I may say that only by meeting M. Rokoff's just demands may you avert the most unpleasant consequences to your wife and child, and at the same time retain your own life and regain your liberty. What is the amount? asked Harzan. And what assurance have I that you will live up to your end of the agreement? I have little reason to trust two such scoundrels as you and Rokoff, you know. The Russian flushed. You are in no position to deliver insults, he said. You have no assurance that we will live up to our agreement other than my word. But you have before you the assurance that we can make short work of you if you do not write out the check we demand. Unless you are a greater fool than I imagine, you should know that there is nothing that would give us greater pleasure than to order these men to fire. That we do not is because we have other plans for punishing you that would be entirely upset by your death. Answer one question, said Harzan. Is my son on board this ship? No, replied Alexis Pulvitch. Your son is quite safe elsewhere, nor will he be killed until you refuse to accede to our fair demands. If it becomes necessary to kill you, there will be no reason for not killing a child, since with you gone, the one whom we wish to punish through the boy will be gone, and he will then be to us only a constant source of danger and embarrassment. You see, therefore, that you may only save the life of your son by saving your own, and you can only save your own by giving us the check we ask. Very well, replied Tarzan, for he knew that he could trust them to carry out any sinister threat that Pulvitch had made, and there was a bare chance that by conceding their demands he might save the boy. That they would permit him to live after he had appended his name to the check never occurred to him as being within the realms of probability, but he was determined to give him such a battle as they would never forget, and possibly to take Pulvitch with him into eternity. He was only sorry that it was not Rokov. He took his pocket checkbook and fountain pen from his pocket. What is the amount? He asked. Pulvitch named it enormous sum. Tarzan could scarcely restrain a smile. Their very cupidity was to prove the means of their undoing, in the matter of the ransom at least. Purposely he hesitated and haggled over the amount, but Pulvitch was obdurate. Finally the eight-man wrote out his check for a larger sum than stood to his credit at the bank. As he turned to hand the worthless slip of paper to the Russian, his glance chanced to pass across the starboard ball of the Kinkai. To his surprise he saw that the ship lay within a few hundred yards of land. Almost down to the water's edge ran a dense tropical jungle, and behind was a higher land, clothed in forest. Pulvitch noted direction of his gaze. You are to be said at liberty here, he said. Tarzan's plan for immediate physical revenge upon the Russian vanished. He thought the land before him the mainland of Africa. And he knew that should they liberate him here, he could doubtless find his way to civilization with comparative ease. Pulvitch took the check. Remove your clothing, he said to the eight-man. Here you will not need it. Tarzan demurred. Pulvitch pointed to the armed sailors, then the Englishman slowly divested himself of his clothing. A boat was lowered, and still heavily guarded, the eight-man was rode ashore. Half an hour later the sailors had returned to the Kinkai, and the steamer was slowly getting under way. As Tarzan stood upon the narrow strip of beach watching the departure of the vessel, he saw a figure appear at the rail, and call allowed to attract his attention. The eight-man had been about to read a note that one of the sailors had handed him as the small boat that bore him to the shore was on the point of returning to the steamer. But at the hail from the vessel's deck he looked up. He saw a black-bearded man who laughed at him in derision as he held high above his head the figure of a little child. And half started as though to rush through the surf and strike out for the already moving steamer, but realizing the futility of Sourash and Act, he halted at the water's edge. Thus he stood, his gaze riveted upon the Kinkai until it disappeared beyond the projecting promontory of the coast. From the jungle at his back, fierce bloodshot eyes glared from beneath shaggy overhanging brows upon him. Little monkeys in the treetops chattered and scolded, and from the distance of the inland forest came the scream of a leopard. But still John Clayton, Laurie Greystoke, stood deaf and unseeing, suffering the pangs of keen regret for the opportunity that he had wasted because he had been so gullible as to place credence in a single statement of the first lieutenant of his arch-enemy. I have at least, he thought, one consolation. The knowledge that Jane is safe in London, thank heaven she too, did not fall into the clutches of those villains. Behind him, the hairy thing whose evil eyes have been watching his as a cat watches a mouse was creeping stealthily toward him. Where were the trained senses of the savage ape-man? Where are the acute hearing? Where are the uncanny sense of scent? The Beast of Tarzan, Chapter 3 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to find out how you can volunteer, go to LibriVox.org. This recording by James Christopher. The Beast of Tarzan, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Chapter 3 BEAST AT BAY Slowly Tarzan unfolded the note the sailor had thrust into his hands and read it. At first it made little impression on his sorrow-numb senses. But finally the full purport of the hideous plot of revenge unfolded itself before his imagination. This will explain to you, the note read, the exact nature of my attentions relative to your offspring and you. You were born an ape. You live naked in the jungle. To your own we have returned you. But your son shall rise a step above his sire. It is the immutable law of evolution. The father was a beast, but the son shall be a man. He shall take the next ascending step in the scale of progress. He shall be no naked beast of the jungle, but shall wear a loincloth and copper enclets and perchance a ring in his nose, for he is to be reared by men, a tribe of savage cannibals. I might have killed you, but that would have curtailed the full measure of the punishment you have earned at my hands. Dead you could not have suffered in the knowledge of your son's plight. But living and in a place from which you may not escape to seek or secure your child, you shall suffer worse than death for all the years of your life in contemplation of the horrors of your son's existence. This, then, is to be a part of your punishment for having dared to pit yourself against N.R. P.S. The balance of your punishment has to do with what shall presently befall your wife. That I shall leave to your imagination. As he finished reading, a slight sound behind him brought him back with a start to the world of present realities. Instantly his senses awoke, and he was again Tarzan of the apes. As he wheeled about, it was a beast at bay, vibrant with the instinct of self-preservation that faced a huge bull ape that was already charging down upon him. The two years that had elapsed since Tarzan had come out of the savage forest with his rescued mate had witnessed slight diminution of the mighty powers that had made him the invincible lord of the jungle. His greatest aces in New Zerry had claimed much of his time and attention. And there he had found ample field for the practical use and retention of his almost superhuman powers. But naked and unarmed to do battle with the shaggy, bull-necked beast that now confronted him was a test that the ape-man would scarce have welcomed at any period of his wild existence. But there was no alternative other than to meet the rage-madden creature with the weapons with which nature had endowed him. Over the bull-shoulder, Tarzan could see now the heads and shoulders of perhaps a dozen more of these mighty forerunners of primitive man. He knew, however, that there was little chance that they would attack him, since it is not within the reasoning powers of the anthropoid to be able to weigh or appreciate the value of concentrated action against an enemy. Otherwise they would long since have become the dominant creatures of their haunts, so tremendous a power of destruction lies in their mighty feuds and savage fangs. With a low snarl, the beast now hurled himself at Tarzan. But the ape-man had found, among other things in the haunts of civilized man, certain methods of scientific warfare that are unknown to the jungle folk. Whereas a few years since, he would have met the brute rush with brute force. He now sidestepped his antagonist headlong charge. And as the brute hurled past him, swung a mighty right to the pit of the ape's stomach. With a howl of mingled rage and anguish, the great anthropoid bent double and sank to the ground, though almost instantly he was again struggling to his feet. Before he could regain them, however, his white-skinned foe had wheeled and pounced upon him, and in the act there dropped from the shoulders of the English lord the last shred of his superficial mantle of civilization. Once again he was the jungle beast, reveling in bloody conflict with his kind. Once again he was Tarzan, son of Kala, the she-ape. His strong white teeth sank into the hairy throat of his enemy as he sought the pulsing juggler. Powerful fingers held the mighty fangs from his own flesh, or clenched in beat with the power of a steam hammer upon the snarling, foam-flected face of his adversary. In a circle about them, the balance of the tribe of apes stood watching and enjoying the struggle. They muttered low gutterls of approval as bits of white hide or hairy blood-stained skin were torn from one contestant or the other. But they were silent in amazement and expectation when they saw the mighty white ape wriggle upon the back of their king, and with steel muscles tensed beneath the armpits of his antagonist, bare down mightily with his open palms upon the back of the thick-bowl neck, so that the king ape could but shriek in agony and flounder helplessly upon the thick mat of jungle grass. As Tarzan had overcome the huge Tarkas that time years before when he had been about to set upon his quest for human beings of his own kind and color, so now he overcame this other great ape with the same wrestling hold upon which he had stumbled by accident during that other combat. The little audience of fierce anthropoids heard the cracking of their king's neck mingling with his agonized shrieks and hideous roaring. Then there came a sudden crack, like the breaking of a stout limb before the fury of the wind. The bullet head crumpled forward upon its flaccid neck against the great hairy chest, the roaring and the shrieking ceased. The little pig eyes of the onlookers wandered from the still form of their leader to that of the white ape that was rising to its feet beside the vanquished. Then back to their king as though in wonder that he did not arise and slay this presumptuous stranger. They saw the newcomer place a foot upon the neck of the quiet figure at his feet, and, throwing back his head, give vent to the wild uncanny challenge of the bull ape that has made a kill. And they knew that their king was dead. Across the jungle rolled the horrid notes of the victory cry. The little monkeys in the treetop ceased their chattering. The harsh-voiced, brilliant plume birds were still. From afar came the answering wail of a leopard and the deep roar of a lion. It was the old Tarzan who turned questioning eyes upon the little knot of apes before him. It was the old Tarzan who shook his head as though to toss back a heavy mane that had fallen before his face. An old habit dating from the days that his great shock of thick black hair had fallen about his shoulders, and often tumbled before his eyes when it had meant life or death to him to have his vision unobstructed. The ape-man knew that he might expect an immediate attack on the part of that particular surviving bull ape who felt himself best fitted to contend for the kingship of the tribe. Among his own apes, he knew that it was not unusual for an entire stranger to enter a community, and, after having dispatched the king, assumed the leadership of the tribe himself, together with the fallen monarch's mates. On the other hand, if he made no attempt to follow them, they might move slowly away from him later to fight amongst themselves for the supremacy. That he could be king of them if he so chose, he was confident, but he was not sure he cared to assume the sometimes irksome duties of that position, for he could see no particular advantage to be gained thereby. One of the younger apes, a huge, splendidly muscled group, was edging threateningly closer to the ape-man. Through his bard fighting fangs, there issued a low, sullen growl. Tarzan watched his every move, standing rigid as a statue. To have fallen back a step would have been to precipitate an immediate charge. To have rushed forward to meet the other might have had the same result, or it might have put the bellicose one to flight. It all depended upon the young bull's stock of courage. To stand perfectly still, waiting, was the middle course. In this event the bull would, according to custom, approach quite close to the object of his attention, growling hideously and barring slavering fangs. Slowly he would circle about the other as though with a chip on his shoulder. And this he did, even as Tarzan had foreseen. It might be of left royal, or, on the other hand, so unstable as the mind of an ape, a passing impulse might hurl the hairy mass tearing and rending upon the man without an instant's warning. As the brute circled him, Tarzan turned slowly, keeping his eyes ever upon the eyes of his antagonist. He had appraised the young bull as one who had never quite felt equal to the task of overthrowing his former king, but who one day would have done so. Tarzan saw that the beast was of wondrous proportions, standing over seven feet upon his short, bowed legs. His great hairy arms reached almost to the ground, even when he stood erect. And his fighting fangs, now quite close to Tarzan's face, were exceptionally long and sharp. Like the others of his tribe, he differed in several minor essentials from the apes of Tarzan's boyhood. At first, the ape man had experienced a thrill of hope at sight of the shaggy bodies of the anthropoids, a hope that by some strange freak of fate, he had then again returned to his own tribe. But a closer inspection had convinced him that these were another species. As the threatening bull continued his stiff and jerky circling of the ape man, much after the manner that you have noted among dogs when a strange canine comes among them. It occurred to Tarzan to discover if the language of his own tribe was identical with that of this other family. And so he addressed the brute in the language of the tribe of Kerchak. Who are you, he asked, who threatens Tarzan of the apes? The hairy brute looked his surprise. I am a cut, replied the other, in the same simple, primal tongue, which is so low on the scale of spoken languages that, as Tarzan had surmised, it was identical with that of the tribe in which the first 20 years of his life had been spent. I am a cut, said the ape. Molak is dead. I am king. Go away, or I shall kill you. You saw how easily I killed Molak, replied Tarzan, so I could kill you if I cared to be king. But Tarzan of the apes would not be king of the tribe of Acut. All he wishes is to live in peace in this country. Let us be friends. Tarzan of the apes can help you. And you can help Tarzan of the apes. You cannot kill a cut, replied the other. None is so great as a cut. Had you not killed Molak, a cut would have done so, for a cut was ready to be king. For answer, the ape-man hurled himself upon the great brute who, during the conversation, had slightly relaxed his vigilance. In the twinkling of an eye, the man had seized the risk of the great ape, and before the other could grapple with him, had whirled him about and leaped upon his broad back. Down they went together. But so well had Tarzan's plan worked out that before ever they touched the ground, he had gained the same hold upon a cut that had broken Molak's neck. Slowly he brought the pressure to bear. And then, as in days gone by, he had given Kerchak the chance to surrender him live. So now he gave a cut, in whom he saw a possible ally of great strength and resource, the option of living in amity with him, or dying as he had just seen his savage and heretofore invincible king die. Cagoda whispered Tarzan to the ape beneath him. It was the same question that he had whispered to Kerchak, and in the language of the apes it means broadly, do you surrender? A cut thought of the creaking sound he had heard just before Molak's thick neck had snapped, and he shuddered. He hated to give up the kingship, though, so again he struggled to free himself. But a sudden torturing pressure upon his vertebra brought an agonized Cagoda from his lips. Tarzan relaxed his grip of trifle. You may still be king, a cut, he said. Tarzan told you that he did not wish to be king. If any question you're right, Tarzan of the apes will help you in your battles. The ape man rose, and a cut came slowly to his feet, shaking his bullet head and growling angrily. He waddled toward his tribe, looking first at one, and then at another of the larger bulls who might be expected to challenge his leadership. But none did so. Instead, they drew away as he approached, and presently the whole pack moved off into the jungle, and Tarzan was left alone once more upon the beach. The ape man was sore from the wounds that Molak had inflicted upon him, but he was a nerd to physical suffering, and endured it with the calm and fortitude of the wild beasts that had taught him to lead the jungle life after the manner of all those that are born to it. His first need, he realized, was for weapons of offense and defense, for his encounter with the apes, and the distant notes of the savage voices of the new mother lion and Sheeta, the panther, warned him that this was to be no life of indolent ease and security. It was but a return to the old existence of constant bloodshed and danger, to the hunting and being hunted. Grimbeast would stalk him, as they had stalked him in the past, and never would there be a moment by savage day or by cruel night that he might not have an instant need of such crude weapons as he could fashion from the materials at hand. Upon the shore, he found an outcropping of brittle igneous rock. By den of much labor, he managed to chip off a narrow sliver, some 12 inches long by a quarter of an inch thick. One edge was quite thin for a few inches near the tip. It was the rudiment of a knife. With it, he went into the jungle, searching until he found a fallen tree of a certain species of hardwood with which he was familiar. From this, he cut a small straight branch, which he pointed at one end. Then he scooped the small round hole in the surface of the prostrate trunk. Into this, he crumbled a few bits of dry bark, minutely shredded, after which he inserted a tip of his pointed stick and sitting astride the bowl of the tree, spun the slender rod rapidly between his palms. After a time, a thin smoke rose from the little mass of tender. And a moment later, the hole broke into flame. Keeping some larger twigs and sticks upon the tiny fire, Tarzan soon had quite a respectable blaze roaring in the enlarging cavity of the dead tree. Into this, he thrust the blade of his stone knife. And as it became superheated, he would withdraw it, touching a spot near the thin edge with a drop of moisture. Beneath the wetted area, a little flake of the glassy material would crack and scale away. Thus, very slowly, the eight man commenced the tedious operation of putting a thin edge upon his primitive hunting knife. He did not attempt to accomplish the feat all in one sitting. At first, he was content to achieve a cutting edge of a couple of inches, with which he cut a long, pliable bow, a handle for his knife, a stout cudgel, and a goodly supply of arrows. These he cashed in a tall tree beside a little stream. And here also, he constructed a platform with a roof of palm leaves above it. When all these things had been finished, it was growing dusk, and Tarzan felt a strong desire to eat. He had noted during the brief incursion he had made into the forest that a short distance upstream from his tree there was a much-used watering place where, from the trampled mud of either bank, it was evident beast of all sorts and in great numbers came to drink. To this spot, the hungry eight man made his silent way. Through the upper terrace of the tree tops he swung with the grace and ease of a monkey. But for the heavy burden upon his heart, he would have been happy in this return to the old, free life of his boyhood. Yet even with that burden, he fell into the little habits and manners of his early life that were in reality more a part of him than the thin veneer of civilization that the past three years of his association with the white men of the outer world had spread lightly over him. A veneer that only hid the crudities of the beast that Tarzan of the apes had been. Could his fellow peers of the House of Lords have seen him then? They would have held up their noble hands in holy horror. Silently he crouched in the lower branches of a great forest giant that overhung the trail. His keen eyes and sensitive ears strained into the distant jungle from which he knew his dinner would presently emerge. Nor had he longed to wait. Scarce had he settled himself into a comfortable position. His lithe muscular legs drawn well up beneath him as the panther draws his hindquarters in preparation for the spring. Then Bara, the deer, came dankily down to drink. But more than Bara was coming. Behind the graceful buck came another which the deer could neither see nor scent. But whose movements were apparent to Tarzan of the apes because of the elevated position of the ape man's ambush. He knew not yet exactly the nature of the thing that moves so stealthily through the jungle a few hundred yards behind the deer. But he was convinced that it was some great beast of prey stalking Bara for the self-same purpose as that which prompted him to await the fleet animal. Numa perhaps, or Sheeda, the panther. In any event Tarzan could see his re-pass slipping from his grasp unless Bara moved more rapidly towards the ford than at present. Even as these thoughts passed through his mind some noise of the stalker in his rear must have come to the buck. For with a sudden start he paused for an instant trembling in his tracks and then with a swift bound dash straight for the river in Tarzan. It was his intention to flee through the shallow ford and escape upon the opposite side of the river. Not a hundred yards behind him came Numa. Tarzan could see him quite plainly now. Below the ape man Bara was about to pass. Could he do it? But even as he asked himself this question the hungry man launched himself in his perch full upon the back of the startled buck. In another instant Numa would be upon them both. So if the ape man were to dine that night or ever again he must act quickly. Scarcely had he touched the sleek hide of the deer with a momentum that sent the animal to its knees then he grasped the horn in either hand and with a single quick wrench twisted the animal's neck completely around until he felt the vertebra snap beneath his grip. The lion was roaring in rage close behind him as he swung the deer across his shoulder and grasping a foreleg between his strong teeth leaped for the nearest of the lower branches that swung above his head. With both hands he grasped the limb and at the instant that Numa sprang drew himself and his prey out of reach of the animal's cruel talons. There was a thug below him as the baffle cat fell back to earth and then Tarzan of the apes drawing his dinner farther up to the safety of a higher limb looked down with graying face into the gleaming yellow eyes of the other wild beast that glared up at him from beneath and with taunting insults flaunted the tender carcass of his kill on the face of him who he had cheated of it. With his crude stone knife he cut a juicy steak from the hindquarters and while the great lion paced growling back and forth below him Lori Graystoke filled his savage belly nor ever in the choicest of his exclusive London clubs had a meal tasted more palatable. The warm blood of his kill smeared his hands and face and filled his nostrils with the scent that the savage carnivora loved best and when he had finished he left the balance of the carcass in a high fork of the tree where he had dined and with Pneuma trailing below him still keen for revenge he made his way back to his treetop shelter where he slept until the sun was high the following morning. End of chapter three. Chapter four of the beasts of Tarzan this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to find out how you can volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by James Christopher The Beast of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs Chapter four. Sheeta. The next few days were occupied by Tarzan in completing his weapons and exploring the jungle. He strung his bow with tendons from the buck upon which he had dined his first evening upon the new shore and though he would have preferred the gut of Sheeta for the purpose he was content to wait until opportunity permitted him to kill one of the great cats. He also braided a long grass rope such a rope as he had used many years before to tantalize the ill-natured tublet in which later had developed into a wondrous effective weapon in the practiced hands of the little eight boy. A sheath and handle for his hunting knife he fashioned and a quiver for arrows and from the hide of Berra, a belt and loincloth. Then he set out to learn something of the strange land in which he found himself. That it was not his old familiar west coast of the African continent he knew from the fact that it faced east the rising sun came up out of the sea before the threshold of the jungle. But that it was not the east coast of Africa he was equally positive, for he felt satisfied that the concaid had not passed through the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal and the Red Sea, nor had she had timed around the Cape of Good Hope. So he was quite at a loss to know where he might be. Sometimes he wondered if the ship had crossed the broad Atlantic to deposit him upon some wild South American shore. But the presence of Numa, the lion, decided him that such could not be the case. As Tarzan made his lonely way through the jungle paralleling the shore, he felt strong upon him a desire for companionship, so that gradually he commenced to regret that he had not cast his lot with the apes. He had seen nothing of them since that first day when the influences of civilization were still paramount within him. Now he was more nearly returned to the Tarzan of old, and though he appreciated the fact that there could be little in common between himself and the great anthropoids, still they were better than no company at all. Being leisurely, sometimes upon the ground, and again among the lower branches of the trees, gathering an occasional fruit, or turning over a fallen log in search of the larger bugs, which he still found as palatable as of old, Tarzan had covered a mile or more when his attention was attracted by the scent of Sheeta upwind ahead of him. Now Sheeta, the panther, was one of whom Tarzan was exceptionally glad to fall in with, for he had it in mind not only to utilize the great cat's strong gut for his bow, but also to fashion a new quiver and loincloth from pieces of his hide. So whereas the eight-man had gone carelessly before, he now became the personification of noiseless stealth. Swiftly and silently, he glided through the forest in the wake of the savage cat, nor was the pursuer, for all his noble birth, one wit less savage than the wild fierce thing he stalked. As he came closer to Sheeta, he became aware that the panther on his part was stalking game of his own, and even as he realized this fact, there came to his nostrils, wasted from his right by a vagrant breeze, the strong odor of a company of great apes. The panther had taken to a large tree as Tarzan came within sight of him, and beyond and below him Tarzan saw the tribe of a cut, lolling at a little natural clearing. Some of them were dozing against the bowls of trees, while others roamed about, turning over bits of bark from beneath which they transferred delicious grubs and beetles to their mouths. A cut was the closest to Sheeta. The great cat lay crouched upon a thick limb, hidden from the ape's view by dense foliage, wading patiently until the anthropoid should come within range of his spring. Tarzan cautiously gained a position in the same tree with the panther and a little above him. In his left hand he grasped his slim stone blade. He would have preferred to use his noose, but the foliage surrounding the huge cat precluded the possibility of an accurate throw with the rope. A cut had now wandered quite close beneath the tree whereon lay the waiting death. Sheeta slowly edged his hind paws along the branch still further beneath him, and then with a hideous shriek he launched himself toward the great ape. The barest fraction of a second before his spring, another beast of prey above him leaped, its weird and savage cry mingling with his. As a startle to cut looked up he saw the panther almost above him, and already upon the panther's back the white ape that had bested him that day near the great water. The teeth of the ape man were buried in the back of Sheeta's neck, and his right arm was round the fierce throat. While the left hand, grasping a slender piece of stone, rose and fell in mighty blows upon the panther's side, behind the left shoulder. The cut had just time to leap to one side to avoid being pinged beneath these battling monsters of the jungle. With a crash they came to earth at his feet. Sheeta was screaming, snarling, and roaring horribly. But the white ape clung tenaciously and in silence to the thrashing body of his quarry. At the end remorselessly the stone knife was driven home through the glossy hide. Time and again it drank deep. Until with a final agonized lunge and shriek the great feline rolled over upon his side and, save for the spasmonic jerking of its muscles, lay quiet and still in death. Then the ape man raised his head as he stood over the carcass of his kill, and once again through the jungle rang his wild and savage victory challenge. The cut and the apes of a cut stood looking in startled wonder at the dead body of Sheeta and the live straight figure of the man who had slain him. Tarzan was the first to speak. He had saved the cut's life for a purpose, and, knowing the limitations of the ape intellect, he also knew that he must make this purpose plain to the anthropod if it were to serve him in the way he hoped. I am Tarzan of the apes, he said. Mighty hunter, mighty fighter. By the great water I spared the cut's life when I might have taken it and become king of the tribe of a cut. Now I have saved the cut from death beneath the rending fangs of Sheeta. When a cut or the tribe of a cut is in danger, let them call to Tarzan thus, and the ape man raised the hideous cry with which the tribe of Kerchak have been want to summon its absent members in times of peril. And he continued, when they hear Tarzan call to them, let them remember what he has done for a cut and come to him with great speed. Shall it be as Tarzan says? Ha! Ascended a cut, and from the members of his tribe there rose a unanimous, Ha! Then presently they went to feeding again, as though nothing had happened, and with them fed John Clayton, Lord Graystoke. He noticed, however, that a cut kept always close to him, and was often looking at him with a strange wonder in his little bloodshot eyes. And once he did a thing that Tarzan during all his long years among the apes had never before seen an ape do. He found a particularly tender morsel and handed it to Tarzan. As the tribe hunted, the glistening body of the ape-man mingled with the brown shaggy hides of his companions. Often times they brushed together in passing, but the apes had already taken his presence for granted, so that he was as much one of them as a cut himself. If he came too close to a she with a young baby, the former would bear her great fighting fangs and growl ominously, and occasionally a trunculate young bull would snarl a warning if Tarzan approached while the former was eating. But in those things the treatment was no different from that which they accorded any other member of the tribe. Tarzan, on his part, felt very much at home with these fierce hairy progenitors of primitive man. He skipped nimbly out of reach of each threatening female, for such is the way of apes, if they be not in one of their occasional fits of bestial rage. And he growled back at the trunculate young bulls, bearing his canine teeth even as they. Thus easily he fell back into the way of his early life. Nor did it seem that he had ever tasted association with creatures of his own kind. For the better part of a week he roamed the jungle with his new friends. Partly because of a desire for companionship, and partly through a well-laid plan to impress himself indelibly upon their memories, which at best are none too long. For Tarzan from past experience knew that it might serve him in good stead to have a tribe of these powerful and terrible beasts at his call. When he was convinced that he had succeeded to some extent in fixing his identity upon them, he decided to again take up his exploration. To this end he set out toward the north early one day, and keeping parallel with the shore, traveled rapidly until almost nightfall. When the sun rose the next morning, he saw that it lay almost directly to his right as he stood upon the beach, instead of straight out across the water as here to fore. And so he reasoned that the shoreline had trended toward the west. All the second day he continued his rapid course, and when Tarzan of the apes sought speed, he passed through the middle terrace of the forest with the rapidity of a squirrel. That night the sun set straight out across the water opposite the land, and then the eight-man guest at last the truth that he had been suspecting. Rokov had set him ashore upon an island. He might have known it. If there was any plan that would render his position more harrowing, he should have known that such would be the one adopted by the Russian, and what could be more terrible than to leave him to a lifetime of suspense upon an uninhabited island. Rokov doubtless had sailed directly to the mainland, where it would be a comparatively easy thing for him to find the means of delivering the infant jack into the hands of the cruel and savage foster parents, who, as is noted threatened, would have the upbringing of the child. Tarzan shuddered as he thought of the cruel suffering the little one must endure in such a life, even though he might fall into the hands of individuals whose intention towards him were of the kindest. The eight-man had had sufficient experience with the lower savages of Africa to know that even there may be found the cruder virtues of charity and humanity. But their lives were at best but a series of terrible privations, dangers, and sufferings. Then there was the horrid after-faith that awaited the child as he grew to manhood. The horrible practices that would form a part of his life training would alone be sufficient to bar him forever from association with those of his own race and station in life. A cannibal, his little boy a savage man-eater, it was too horrible to contemplate. The filed teeth, the slit nose, the little face painted hideously, Tarzan groaned. Could he but feel the throat of the rust fiend beneath his steel fingers? And Jane. What tortures of doubt and fear and uncertainty she must be suffering, he felt that his position was infinitely less terrible than hers. For at least he knew that one of his loved ones was safe at home, while she had no idea of the whereabouts of either her husband or her son. It is well for Tarzan that he did not guess the truth, for the knowledge would have but added a hundredfold to his suffering. As he moved slowly through the jungle, his mind absorbed by his gloomy thoughts, there presently came to his ears a strange scratching sound which he could not translate. Cautiously he moved in the direction from which it emanated, presently coming upon a huge panther pinned beneath the fallen tree. As Tarzan approached, the beast turned snarling towards him, struggling to extricate itself. But one great limb across its back and the smaller entangling branches pinging its legs prevented it from moving but a few inches in any direction. The eight-man stood before the helpless cat, fitting an arrow to his bow, that he might dispatch the beast that otherwise must die of starvation. But even as he drew back the shaft, a sudden whim stayed his hand. Why rob the poor creature of life and liberty when it would be so easy a thing to restore both to it? He was sure from the fact that the panther moved all its limbs and its futile struggle for freedom that its spine was un-injured, and for the same reason he knew that none of its limbs were broken. Relaxing his bowstring, he returned the arrow to the quiver and, throwing the bow about his shoulder, stepped closer to the pinging beast. On his lips was a soothing purring sound that the great cats themselves made when contented and happy. It was the nearest approach to a friendly advance that Tarzan could make in the language of Sheetah. The panther ceased its snarling and eyed the eight-man closely. To lift the tree's great weight from the animal it was necessary to come within reach of those long, strong talons, and when the tree had been removed the man would be totally at the mercy of the savage beast. But to Tarzan of the apes fear was a thing unknown. When decided he acted promptly. Unhesitatingly he stepped into the tangle of branches close to the panther's side, still voicing his friendly and conciliatory purr. The cat turns his head towards the man, eyeing him steadily, questioningly. The long things were bared, but more in preparedness than threat. Tarzan put a broad shoulder beneath the bowl of the tree, and as he did so his bare leg pressed against the cat's silken side, so close was the man to the great beast. Only Tarzan extended his giant fuse. The great tree, with its entangling branches, rose gradually from the panther, who, feeling the encumbering weight diminish, quickly crawled from beneath. Tarzan let the tree fall back to earth, and the two beast turned to look upon one another. A grim smile lay upon the eight-man's lips, for he knew that he had taken his life in his hands to free the savage jungle-fellow, nor would it have surprised him had the cat sprung upon him the instant that it had been released. But it did not do so. Instead, it stood a few paces from the tree, watching the eight-man clamber out of the maze of fallen branches. Once outside, Tarzan was not three paces from the panther. He might have taken to the higher branches of the trees upon the opposite side. Frashita cannot climb to the heights to which the eight-man can go. But something, a spirit of bravado perhaps, prompted him to approach the panther as though to discover if any feeling of gratitude would prompt the beast to friendliness. As he approached the mighty cat, the creature stepped wearily to one side, and the eight-man brushed past him within a foot of the dripping jaws. And as he continued on through the forest, the panther followed on behind him as a hound follows at heel. For a long time Tarzan could not tell whether the beast was following out of friendly feelings or merely stalking him against the time he should be hungry. But finally he was forced to believe that the former incentive it was that prompted the animal's action. Later in the day the scent of a deer sent Tarzan into the trees, and when he had dropped his noose about the animal's neck he called to Shita, using a purr similar to that which he had utilized to pacify the brute's suspicions earlier in the day, but a trifle louder and more shrill. It was similar to that which he had heard panthers used after a kill when they had been hunting in pairs. Almost immediately there was a crashing of the underbrush close at hand, and the long, lithe body of a strange companion broken to view. At sight of the body of Bara, and the smell of blood, the panther gave forth a shrill scream, and a moment later two beasts were feeding side by side upon the tender meat of the deer. For several days this strangely assorted pair roamed the jungle together. When one made a kill he called the other, and thus they fed well and often. On one occasion, as they were dining upon the carcass of a bore that Shita had dispatched, Numa, the lion, grim and terrible, broke through the tangled grasses close beside them. With an angry warning roar he sprang forward to chase them from their kill. Shita bounded into an nearby thicket, while Tarzan took to the low branches of an overhanging tree. Here the eight-man unloosed his grass rope from about his neck, and as Numa stood above the body of the bore, challenging head erect, he dropped the singuous noose about the main neck, drawing the stout strands taut with a sudden jerk. At the same time he called shrilly to Shita. As he drew the struggling lion upward until only his hind feet touched the ground. Finally he made the rope fast to a stout branch, and as the panther, an answer to his summons, leaped into sight. Tarzan dropped to the earth beside the struggling and infuriated Numa, and with a long sharp knife sprang upon him at one side even as Shita did upon the other. The panther tore and ripped Numa upon the right, while the eight-man struck home with a stone knife upon the other, so that before the mighty clawing king of beasts had succeeded imparting the rope he hung quite dead and harmless in the noose. And then upon the jungle air there rose a unison from two savage throats, the victory cry of the bull-ape and the panther, blended into one frightful and uncanny scream. As the last notes died away and a long-drawn fearsome wail, a score of painted warriors, drawing their long war canoe upon the beach, halted to stare in the direction of the jungle, and to end of Chapter 4. Chapter 5 of the Beast of Tarzan This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by James Christopher. The Beast of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Chapter 5. Mugambi. By the time that Tarzan had traveled entirely about the coast of the island and made several trips inland from various points, he was sure that he was the only human being upon it. Nowhere had he found any sign that men had stopped even temporarily upon this shore, though of course he knew that so quickly does the rank vegetation of the tropics erase all but the most permanent of human monuments that he might be an error in his deductions. The day following the killing of Numa, Tarzan and Sheeta came upon the tribe of a cut. At sight of the panther, the great apes took to flight, but after a time Tarzan succeeded in recalling them. It had occurred to him that it would be at least an interesting experiment to attempt to reconcile these hereditary enemies. He welcomed anything that would occupy his time and his mind beyond the filling of his belly and the gloomy thoughts to which he fell prey at the moment that he became idle. To communicate his plan to the apes was not a particularly difficult matter, though their narrow and limited vocabulary was strained in the effort. But to impress upon the little, wicked brain of Sheeta that he was to hunt with and not for his legitimate prey proved a task almost beyond the powers of the ape-man. Tarzan, among his other weapons, possessed a long, stout cudgel, and after fastening his rope about the panther's neck, he used this instrument freely upon the snarling beast, endeavoring in this way to impress upon its memory that it must not attack the great shaggy man-like creatures that had approached more closely once they had seen the purpose of the rope about Sheeta's neck. That the cat did not turn and ran to Tarzan as something of a miracle, which may possibly be accounted for by the fact that twice when it turned growling upon the ape-man he had wrapped it sharply upon its sensitive nose, inculcating in its mind thereby a most wholesome fear of the cudgel and the ape-beast behind it. It is a question if the original cause of this attachment for Tarzan was still at all clear in the mind of the panther, though doubtless some subconscious suggestion, ever induced by this primary reason and aided and abetted by the habit of the past few days, did much to compel the beast to tolerate treatment at his hands that would have sent it at the throat of any other creature. Then too there was the compelling force of the man-mind exerting its powerful influence over this creature of a lower order, and after all, it may have been this that proved the most potent factor in Tarzan's supremacy over Sheeta, and the other beast of the jungle that had from time to time fallen under his dominion. Be that as it may. For days the man, the panther, and the great apes roamed their savage haunt side by side, making their kills together and sharing them with one another, and of all the fierce and savage band, none was more terrible than the smooth-skinned powerful beast that had been but a few short months before, a familiar figure in many a London drawing-room. Sometimes the beast separated to follow their own inclinations for an hour or a day, and it was upon one of these occasions when the ape-man had wandered through the treetops toward the beach, and was stretched in the hot sun upon the sand that from the low summit of a nearby promontory a pair of keen eyes discovered him. For a moment the owner of the eyes looked in astonishment at the figure of the savage white man basking in the rays of that hot, tropic sun. Then he turned, making a sign to someone behind him. Presently, another pair of eyes were looking down upon the ape-man, and then another, and another, until a full score of hideously trapped savage warriors were lying upon their bellies along the crest of the ridge watching the white skinned stranger. They were downwind from Tarzan, and so their scent was not carried to him, and as his back was turned half toward them he did not see their cautious advance over the edge of the promontory, and down through the ranked grass toward the sandy beach where he lay. Big fellows they were, all of them, their barbaric headdress and grotesquely painted faces, together with their many metal ornaments and gorgeously colored feathers, adding to their wild, fierce appearance. Once at the foot of the ridge they came cautiously to their feet, and, bent half double, advanced silently upon the unconscious white man, their heavy war-clubs swinging menacingly in their brawny hands. The mental suffering that Tarzan's sorrowful thoughts induced had the effect of numbing his keen, perceptive faculties, so that the advancing savages were almost upon him before he became aware that he was no longer alone upon the beach. So quickly, though, were his mind and muscles want to react in unison to the slightest alarm that he was upon his feet and facing his enemies, even as he realized that something was behind him. As he sprang to his feet the warriors leaped toward him with raised clubs and savage yells, but the foremost went down to sudden death beneath the long stout stick of the eight-man, and then the lies singily figure was among them, striking right and left with a fury, power, and precision that brought panic to the ranks of the blacks. For a moment they withdrew, those that were left of them, and consulted together at a short distance from the eight-man, who stood with folded arms, a half smile upon his handsome face, watching them. Immediately they advanced upon him once more, this time wielding their heavy war spears. They were between Tarzan and the Jungle, in a little semi-circle that closed in upon him as they advanced. They were seen to the eight-man but slight chance to escape the final charge when all the great spears should be hurled simultaneously at him, but if he had desired to escape there was no way other than through the ranks of the savages except the open sea behind him. His predicament was indeed most serious when an idea occurred to him that altered his smile to a broad grin. The warriors were still some little distance away, advancing slowly, making after the manner of their kind a frightful den with their savage yells and the pounding of their naked feet upon the ground as they leaped up and down in a fantastic war dance. Then it was that the eight-man lifted his voice in a series of wild, weird screams that brought the blacks to a sudden perplexed halt. They looked at one another questioningly, for here was a sound so hideous that their own frightful den faded into insignificance beside it. No human throat could have formed those bestial notes they were sure, and yet with their own eyes they had seen this white man open his mouth to pour forth his awful cry. But only for a moment they hesitated. And then, with one accord, they again took up their fantastic advance upon their prey. But even then a sudden crashing in the jungle behind them brought them once more to a halt. And as they turned to look in the direction of this new noise, there broke upon their startled visions a sight that may well have frozen the blood of braver men than the wagami. Leaping from the tangled vegetation of the jungle's rim came a huge panther with blazing eyes and bared fangs. And in his wake a score of mighty, shaggy apes, lumbering rapidly toward them, half erect upon their short, bowed legs, and with their long arms reaching to the ground where their horny knuckles bore the weight of their ponderous bodies as they lurched from side to side in their grotesque advance. The beast of Tarzan had come an answer to his call. Before the wagami could recover from their astonishment the frightful horde was upon them from one side and Tarzan of the apes from the other. Heavy spears were hurled, and mighty war-clubs wielded, and though apes went down never to rise, so too went down the men of the wagami. Sheed his cruel fangs and tearing talons ripped and tore at the black hides. A cut's mighty yellow tusks found the juggler of more than one sleek-skinned savage, and Tarzan of the apes was here and there and everywhere, urging on his fierce allies and taking a heavy toll with his long, slim knife. In a moment the blacks had scattered for their lives, but of the score that had crept down the grassy sides of the promontory only a single warrior managed to escape the horde that had overwhelmed his people. This one was Mugambi, chief of the wagami of Mugambi, and as he disappeared in the tangled luxuriousness of the rank growth upon the ridges' summit, only the keen eyes of the ape-man saw the direction of his flight, leaving his pack to eat their fill upon the flesh of their victims, flesh that he could not touch. Tarzan of the apes pursued the single survivor of the bloody fray. Just beyond the ridge he came within sight of the fleeing black, making with headlong leaps for a long war canoe that was drawn up well upon the beach above the high tide surf. Noiseless as the fellow's shadow, the ape-man raced after the terror-stricken black, and the white man's mind was a new plan, awakened by sight of the war canoe. If these men had come to his island from another, or from the mainland, why not utilize their craft to make his way to the country from which they had come? See it was an inhabited country, and no doubt had occasional intercourse with the mainland, if it were not itself upon the continent of Africa. A heavy hand fell upon the shoulder of the escaping Mugambi before he was aware that he was being pursued, and as he turned to do battle with his assailant, giant fingers closed about his wrist, and he was hurled to earth with a giant astride him before he could strike a blow in his own defense. In the language of the West Coast, Tarzan spoke to the prostrate man beneath him. Who are you? he asked. Mugambi, chief of the Mugambi, replied to black. I will spare your life, said Tarzan. If you will promise to help me leave this island. What do you answer? I will help you, replied Mugambi. But now that you have killed all my warriors, I do not know that even I can leave your country, for there will be none to wail the paddles, and without paddlers we cannot cross the water. Tarzan rose and allowed his prisoner to come to his feet. The fellow was a magnificent specimen of manhood, a black counterpart and physique of the splendid white man whom he faced. Come, said the eight man, and started back in the direction from which they could hear the snarling and growling of the feasting pack Mugambi drew back. They will kill us, he said. I think not, replied Tarzan. They are mine. Still the black hesitated, fearful of the consequences of approaching the terrible creatures that were dining upon the bodies of his warriors. But Tarzan forced him to accompany him, and presently the two emerged from the jungle in full view of the grisly spectacle upon the beach. At sight of the men, the beast looked up with menacing growls, but Tarzan strode in among them, dragging the trembling Mugambi with him. As he had taught the apes to accept Sheeta, so he taught them to adopt Mugambi as well, and much more easily, but Sheeta seemed quite unable to understand that though he had been called upon to devour Mugambi's warriors, he was not allowed to proceed after the same fashion with Mugambi. However, being well-filled, he contented himself with walking round the terror-stricken savage, emitting low, menacing growls the while he kept his flaming, baleful eyes riveted upon the black. Mugambi, on his part, clung closely to Tarzan, so that the eight men could scare us control his laughter at the pitiful condition to which the chief's fear had reduced him. But at length the white took the great cat by the scruff of the neck, and, dragging it quite close to the Mugambi, slapped it sharply upon the nose each time that it growled at the stranger. At the sight of the thing, a man mauling with his bare hands, one of the most relentless and fierce of the jungle carnivora, Mugambi's eyes bulged from their sockets, and from entertaining a soul in respect for the giant white man who had made him prisoner, the black felt in almost worshiping all of Tarzan. The education of Sheeta progressed so well that in a short time Mugambi ceased to be the object of his hungry attention, and the black felt a degree more of safety in his society. To say that Mugambi was entirely happy, or at ease in his new environment, would not be to adhere strictly to the truth. His eyes were constantly rolling apprehensively from side to side, as now one, and now another of the fierce pack chanced to wander near him, so that for most of the time it was principally the whites that showed. Together, Tarzan and Mugambi, with Sheeta and a cut, lay in wait at the ford for a deer, and when at a word from the eight man, the four of them leaped out upon the afrighten animal, the black was sure that the poor creature died of fright before ever one of the great beasts touched it. Mugambi built a fire, and cooked his portion of the kill, but Tarzan, Sheeta and a cut tore theirs, raw with their sharp teeth, growling among themselves when one ventured to encroach upon the share of another. It was not, after all, strange that the white man's ways should have been so much more nearly related to those of the beast than were the savage blacks. We are, all of us, creatures of habit, and when the seeming necessity for schooling ourselves in new ways ceases to exist, we fall naturally and easily into the manners and customs which long usage has implanted irredactably within us. Mugambi from childhood had eaten no meat until it had been cooked, while Tarzan, on the other hand, had never tasted cooked food of any sort until he had grown almost a manhood, and only within the past three or four years had he eaten cooked meat. Not only did the habit of a lifetime prompt him to eat it raw, but the craving of his palate as well, for to him cooked flesh was spoiled flesh when compared with the rich and juicy meat of a fresh, hot kill, that he could with relish eat raw meat that had been buried by himself weeks before, and enjoy small rodents and disgusting grubs seems to us who have always been civilized a revolting fact. But had we learned in childhood to eat those things, and had we seen all those about us eat them, they would seem no more sickening to us now than do many of our greatest dainties at which a savage African cannibal would look with repugnance and turn up his nose. For instance, there is a tribe in the vicinity of Lake Rudolph that will eat no sheep or cattle, though its next neighbors do so. And by is another tribe that eats donkey meat, a custom most revolting to the surrounding tribes that do not eat donkey. So who may say that it is nice to eat snails and frogs, legs, and oysters, but disgusting to feed upon grubs and beetles, or that a raw oyster, hoof, horns, and tail is less revolting than the sweet, clean meat of a fresh, killed buck. The next few days Tarzan devoted to the weaving of a barkcloth sail with which to equip the canoe, for he disparate of being able to teach the apes to wield the paddles, though he did manage to get several of them to embark in the frail craft which he and Mugambi paddled about inside the reef where the water was quite smooth. During these trips he had placed paddles in their hands when they attempted to imitate the movements of him and Mugambi, but so difficult is it for them long to concentrate upon a thing that he soon saw that it would require weeks of patient training before they would be able to make any effective use of these new implements, if in fact they should ever do so. There was one exception, however, and he was a cut. Almost from the first he showed an interest in this new sport that revealed a much higher plane of intelligence than that attained by any of his tribe. He seemed to grasp the purpose of the paddles, and when Tarzan saw that this was so, he took much pains to explain in the meager language of the Anthropoid how they might be used to the best advantage. From Mugambi Tarzan learned that the mainland lay but a short distance from the island. It seemed that the Mugambi warriors had ventured too far out in their frail craft, and when caught by a heavy tide and a high wind from offshore they had been driven out of sight of land. They were battling for a whole night, thinking that they were headed for home. They had seen this land at sunrise, and still taking it for the mainland had hailed it with joy, nor had Mugambi been aware that it was an island until Tarzan had told him that this was the fact. The Mugambi chief was quite dubious as to the sail, for he had never seen such a contrivance used. His country lay far up the broad Mugambi River, and this was the first occasion that any of his people had found their way to the ocean. Tarzan, however, was confident that with a good west wind he could navigate the little craft to the mainland. At any rate he decided it would be preferable to perish on the way than to remain indefinitely upon this evidently uncharted island to which no ships might ever be expected to come. And so it was that when the first fair wind rose he embarked upon his cruise, and with him he took as strange and fearsome a crew as ever sailed under a savage master. Mugambi and a cut went with him, and Sheeta, the panther, and a dozen great males of the tribe of a cut. CHAPTER VI The work anew with its savage load moved slowly toward the break and the reef through which it must pass to gain the open sea. Tarzan, Mugambi, and a cut wielded the paddles, for the shore kept the west wind from the little sail. Sheeta crouched in the bow at the eight-man's feet, for it had seemed best to Tarzan always to keep the wicked beast as far from the other members of the party as possible, since it would require little or no provocation to send him at the throat of any than the white man whom he evidently now looked upon as his master. And the stern was Mugambi, and just in front of him squatted a cut. While between a cut and Tarzan the twelve hairy apes set upon their haunches, blinking dubiously this way and that, and now and then turning their eyes longingly back toward shore. All went well until it canoeed past beyond the reef. Here the breeze struck the sail, sending the rude craft lunging among the waves that ran higher and higher as they drew away from the shore. With the tossing of the boat, the apes became panic-stricken. They first move uneasily about, and then commence grumbling and whining. With difficulty a cut kept them in hand for a time. But when a particularly large wave struck the dugout simultaneously with a little squall of wind, their terror broke all bounds, and leaping to their feet, they all but overturned the boat before a cut and Tarzan together could quiet them. At last calm was restored, and eventually the apes became accustomed to the strange antics of their craft, after which no more trouble was experienced with them. The trip was uneventful. The wind held, and after ten hours steady sailing, the black shadows of the coast loomed close before the straining eyes of the ape-man in the bow. It was far too dark to distinguish whether they had approached close to the mouth of the Ugambi or not, so Tarzan ran through the surf at the closest point to await the dawn. The dugout turned broadside the instant that its nose touched the sand, and immediately it rolled over, with all the screws scrambling madly for the shore. The next breaker rolled them over and over, but eventually they all succeeded in crawling to safety, and in a moment more their ungainly craft had been washed up beside them. At the balance of the night the apes had held up close to one another for warmth, while Ugambi built a fire close to them over which he crouched. Tarzan and Cheetah, however, were of a different mind, for neither of them feared the jungle night, and the insistent craving of their hunger sent them off into the stingy and blackness of the forest in search of prey. Side by side they walked when there was room for two abreast, at other times in single file, first one, and then the other in advance. It was Tarzan who first caught the scent of meat, a bull buffalo, and presently the two came stealthily upon the sleeping beast in the midst of a dense jungle of reeds close to a river. Closer and closer they crept toward the unsuspecting beast. Cheetah upon his right side, and Tarzan upon his left nearest the great heart. They had hunted together now for some time, so that they worked in unison, with only low, purring sounds as signals. For a moment they lay quite silent near their prey, and then at a sign from the eight-man, Cheetah sprang upon the great back, burying his strong teeth in the bull's neck. Suddenly the brute sprang to his feet with a bellow of pain and rage, and at the same instant Tarzan rushed in upon his left side with the stone knife, striking repeatedly behind the shoulder. One of the eight-man's hands clutched the thick mane, and as the bull raced madly through the reeds the thing striking at his life was dragged beside him. Cheetah but clung tenuously to his hold upon the neck and back, biting deep in an effort to reach the spine. For several hundred yards the bellowing bull carried his two savage antagonists. Until at last the blade found his heart. When with a final bellow that was half-screen he plunged headlong to the earth. Then Tarzan and Cheetah feasted to repletion. After the meal the two curled up together in a thicket. The man's black head pillied upon the tawny side of the panther. Shortly after dawn they awoke and ate again, and then returned to the beach that Tarzan might lead the balance of the pack to the kill. When the meal was done the brutes were for curling up to sleep. The Tarzan and Mugambi set off and served to the Ugami River. They had proceeded scarce a hundred yards when they came suddenly upon a broad stream, which the negro instantly recognized as that down which he and his warriors had paddled to the sea upon their ill-starred expedition. The two now followed the stream down to the ocean, finding that it emptied into a bay not over a mile from the point upon the beach at which the canoe had been thrown the night before. Tarzan was much elated by the discovery, as he knew that in the vicinity of a large water-course he should find natives, and from some of these he had little doubt but that he should obtain news of Rokov and the child, for he felt reasonably certain that the Russian would rid himself of the baby as quickly as possible after having disposed of Tarzan. He and Mugambi now rided and launched the dugout, though it was a most difficult feat in the face of the surf which rolled continuously in upon the beach. But at last they were successful, and soon after were paddling up the coast toward the mouth of the Ugambi. Here they experienced considerable difficulty in making an entrance against the combined current and ebb tide, but by taking advantage of eddies close into shore they came about dusk to a point nearly opposite the spot where they had left the pack of sleep. Making the craft fast to an overhanging bow, the two made their way into the jungle, presently coming upon some of the apes feeding upon fruit little beyond the reeds where the buffalo had fallen. Shida was not anywhere to be seen, nor did he return that night. So Tarzan came to believe that he had wandered away in search of his own kind. By the next morning the eight-man led his band down to the river, and as he walked he gave it to a series of shrill cries. Presently from a great distance and faintly there came an answering scream, and a half hour later the lithe form of Shida bound an interview where the others of the pack were clamoring gingerly into the canoe. The great beast, with arched back and purring like a contented tabby, rubbed his sides against the eight-man, and then at a word from the latter spring lightly to its former place in the bow of the dugout. When all were in place it was discovered that two of the apes of a cut were missing, and though both the king ape and Tarzan called to them for the better part of an hour there was no response, and finally the boat put off without them. As it happened that the two missing ones were the very same who had evinced of least desire to accompany the expedition from the island, and had suffered the most from fright during the voyage, Tarzan was quite sure that they had absented themselves purposely rather than again enter the canoe. As the party were putting in for the shore shortly afternoon to search for food, a slender naked savage watched them for a moment from behind the dense screen of Verdur, which lined the river's bank. Then he melted away upstream before any of those in the canoe discovered him. Like a deer he bounded along the narrow trail until, filled with the excitement of his news, he burst into a native village several miles above the point at which Tarzan and his pack had stopped to hunt. Another white man is coming. He cried to the chief who squatted before the entrance to a circular hut. Their white man and with him are many warriors. They come in a great work anew to kill and rob, as did the black-bearded one who has just left us. Kaviri leaped to his feet. He had but recently had a taste of the white man's medicine, and his savage heart was filled with bitterness and hate. In another moment the rumble of the war drums rose from the village, calling in the hunters from the forest and the tillers from the fields. Seven work anews were launched and manned by paint-dabbed befeathered warriors. Long spears bristled from the rude battleships, as they slid noiselessly over the bosom of the water, propelled by giant muscles rolling beneath glistening ebony hides. There was no beating of Tom-Tom's now, nor blare of native horn, for Kaviri was a crafty warrior, and it was in his mind to take no chances if they could be avoided. He would swoop noiselessly down with his seven canoes upon the single one of the white man, and before the guns of the latter could inflict much damage upon his people he would have overwhelmed the enemy by force of numbers. Kaviri's own canoe went in advance of the others a short distance, and as it rounded a sharp bend in the river where the swift current bore it rapidly on its way, it came suddenly upon the thane that Kaviri sought. So close were the two canoes to one another that the black had only an opportunity to note the white face in the bow of the oncoming craft before the two touched, and his own men were upon their feet, yelling like mad devils, and thrusting their long spears at the occupants of the other canoe. But a moment later, when Kaviri was able to realize the nature of the crew that manned the white man's dug out, he would have given all the beads and iron wire that he possessed to have been safely within his distant village. Scarcely had the two craft come together, then the frightful apes of a cut, the rose, growling and barking from the bottom of the canoe, and with long hairy arms far outstretched, grasped the menacing spears from the hands of Kaviri's warriors. The blacks were overcome with terror, but there was nothing to do other than fight. Now came the other work canoes rapidly down upon the two craft. Their occupants were eager to join the battle, for they thought that their foes were white men and their native porters. They swarmed about Tarzan's craft, but when they saw the nature of the enemy, all but one turned and paddled swiftly up river. That one came too close to the eight man's craft before its occupants realized that their fellows were pitted against demons instead of men. As it touched, Tarzan spoke a few low words to Sheeta and a cut so that before the attacking warriors could draw away, their sprang upon him with a blood-freezing scream, a huge panther, and into the other end of their canoe, clambered a great ape. At one end the panther wrought fearful havoc with his mighty talons and long sharp fangs. While a cut at the other buried his yellow canines in the necks of those that came within his reach, hurling the terror-stricken blacks overboard as he made his way toward the center of the canoe. He was so busily engaged with a demon that had entered his own craft that he could offer no assistance to his warriors in the other. A giant of a white devil had rested his spear from him as though he, the mighty Kaviri, had been but a newborn babe. Harry monsters were overcoming his fighting men, and a black chieftain like himself was fighting shoulder to shoulder with the hideous pack that opposed him. Kaviri battled bravely against his antagonist, for he felt that death had already claimed him, and so the least that he could do would be to sell his life as dearly as possible. But it was soon evident that his best was quite futile when pitted against the superhuman brawn and agility of the creature that at last found his throat and bent him back into the bottom of the canoe. Presently Kaviri's head began to whirl. Objects became confused and dim before his eyes. There was a great pain in his chest as he struggled for the breath of life that the thing upon him was shutting off forever. Then he lost consciousness. When he opened his eyes once more he found much to his surprise that he was not dead. He lay, securely bound in the bottom of his own canoe. A great panther sat upon its haunches, looking down upon him. Kaviri shuttered and closed his eyes again, waiting for the ferocious creature to spring upon him and put him out of his misery of terror. After a moment, no rending fangs having buried themselves in his trembling body, he again ventured to open his eyes. Beyond the panther kneeled the white giant who had overcome him. Man was wielding a paddle. While directly behind him, Kaviri saw some of his own warriors similarly engaged. Back of them again squatted several of the hairy apes. Tarzan, seeing that the chief had regained consciousness, addressed him. Your warriors tell me that you are chief of numerous people and that your name is Kaviri, he said. Yes, replied the black. Why did you attack me? I came in peace. Another white man came in peace three moons ago, replied Kaviri. Before we had brought him presence of a goat and cassava and milk, he set upon us with his guns and killed many of my people, and then went on his way, taking all of our goats and many of our young men and women. I am not as this other white man, replied Tarzan. I should not have harmed you had you not set upon me. Tell me, what was the face of this bad white man like? I am searching for one who has wronged me. Possibly this may be the very one. He was a man with a bad face covered with a great black beard, and he was very, very wicked. Yes, very wicked indeed. Was there a little white child with him? asked Tarzan. His heart almost stopped as he awaited the black's answer. No, Buona, replied Kaviri. The white child was not with this man's party. It was with the other party. Other party, exclaimed Tarzan. What other party? With the party that the very bad white man was pursuing, there was a white man, woman, and the child, with six Missoula porters. They passed up the river three days ahead of the very bad white man. I think that they were running away from him. A white man, woman, and child, Tarzan was puzzled. The child must be his little Jack. But who could the woman be, and the man? Was it possible that one of Rokov's Confederates had conspired with some woman who had accompanied the Russian to steal the baby from him? If this was the case, they had doubtless purpose returning the child to civilization, and there either claiming a reward or holding the little prisoner for ransom. But now that Rokov had succeeded in chasing them far inland, up the Savage River, there could be little doubt but that he would eventually overhaul them. Unless, as was still more probable, they should be captured and killed by the very cannibals farther out the Ungambi, to whom Tarzan was now convinced it had then Rokov's intention to deliver the baby. As he talked to Kaviri, the canoes had been moving steadily upriver toward the chief's village. Kaviri's warriors plied the paddles in the three canoes, casting side long, terrified glances at their hideous passengers. Three of the apes of a cut have been killed in the encounter, but there were, with a cut, eight of the frightful beast remaining, and there was Sheeta, the panther, and Tarzan, and Ungambi. Kaviri's warriors thought that they had never seen so terrible a crew in all their lives. Momentarily they expected to be pounced upon and torn asunder by some of their captors, and in fact it was all that Tarzan and Ungambi and a cut could do to keep the snarling ill nature brutes from snapping at the glistening naked bodies that brushed against them now and then with the movements of the paddlers, whose very fear added incitement to the beast. At Kaviri's camp, Tarzan paused only long enough to eat the food that the blacks furnished and to arrange with the chief for a dozen men to man the paddles of his canoe. Kaviri was only too glad to comply with any demands that the eight men might make if only such compliance would hasten the departure of the horrid pack. But it was easier, he discovered, to promise men than to furnish them. For when his people learned his intentions, those that had not already fled into the jungle proceeded to do so without loss of time. So that when Kaviri turned to point out those who were to accompany Tarzan, he discovered that he was the only member of his tribe left in the village. Tarzan could not repress a smile. They do not seem anxious to accompany us, he said, but just remain quietly here, Kaviri, and presently you shall see your people flocking to your side. Then the eight men rose and, calling to his pack about him, commanded that Ungambi remain with Kaviri and disappeared in the jungle with Sheeta and the apes at his heels. For half an hour the silence of the grim forest was broken only by the ordinary sounds of the teeming life that but adds to its lowering loneliness. Kaviri and Ungambi sat alone in the palisaded village, waiting. Presently from a great distance came a hideous sound. Ungambi recognized the weird challenge of the eight men. Immediately from different points of the compass rose a horrid semi-circle of similar shrieks and screams, punctuated now and again by the blood-curdling cry of a hungry panther. End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of The Beast of Tarzan This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by James Christopher. The Beast of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Chapter 7 Betrayed The two savages, Kaviri and Ungambi, squatting before the entrance to Kaviri's hut, looked at one another. Kaviri with ill-concealed alarm. "'What is it?' he whispered. "'It is Buana Tarzan and his people,' replied Ungambi. "'But what they are doing, I know not, unless it be that they are devouring your people who ran away.' Kaviri shuddered and rolled his eyes fearfully toward the jungle. In all his long life in the savage forest he had never heard such an awful, fearsome din. Closer and closer came the sounds, and now with them were mingled the terrified shrieks of women and children and of men. For twenty long minutes the blood-curdling cries continued, until they seemed but a stone's throw from the palisade. Kaviri rose to flee, but Ungambi seized and held him, for such had been the command of Tarzan. A moment later a horde of terrified natives burst from the jungle, racing toward the shelter of their huts. Like frightened sheep they ran, and behind them, driving them as sheep might be driven, came Tarzan and Sheeta and the hideous apes of a cut. Presently Tarzan stood before Kaviri, the old quiet smile upon his lips. "'Your people have returned, my brother,' he said. "'And now you may select those who are to accompany me and paddle my canoe.' Tremblingly, Kaviri tottered to his feet, calling to his people to come from their huts, but none responded to his summons. "'Tell them,' suggested Tarzan, "'that if they do not come, I shall send my people in after them.' Kaviri did as he was bid, and in an instant the entire population of the village came forth, their wide and frightened eyes rolling from one to another of the savage creatures that wandered about the village street. Quickly Kaviri designated a dozen warriors to accompany Tarzan. The poor fellows went almost white with terror at the prospect of close contact with the panther and the apes and the narrow confines of the canoes. But when Kaviri explained to them that there was no escape, that Buana Tarzan would pursue them with his grim horde should they attempt to run away from the duty. They finally went gloomily down to the river and took their places in the canoe. It was with a sigh of relief that their chieftain saw the party disappear about a headland a short distance up river. For three days, the strange company continued farther and farther into the heart of the savage country that lies on either side of the almost unexplored Umgambi. Three of the 12 warriors deserted during that time, but as several of the apes had finally learned the secret of the paddles, Tarzan felt no dismay because of the loss. As a matter of fact, he could have traveled much more rapidly on shore, but he believed that he could hold his own wild crew together to better advantage by keeping him to the boat as much as possible. Twice a day they landed to hunt and feed, and at night they slept upon the bank of the mainland or on one of the numerous little islands that dotted the river. Before them the natives fled an alarm so that they found only deserted villages in their path as they proceeded. Tarzan was anxious to get in touch with some of the savages who dwelt upon the river's banks, but so far he had been unable to do so. Finally he decided to take to the land himself, leaving his company to follow after him by boat. He explained to Umgambi the thing that he had in mind and told to cut to follow the directions of the black. I will join you again in a few days, he said. Now I go ahead to learn what has become of the very bad white man whom I seek. At the next halt Tarzan took to the shore and was soon lost to the view of his people. The first few villages he came to were deserted, showing that news of the coming of his pack had traveled rapidly, but toward evening he came upon a distant clutter of thatched tuts surrounded by a rude palisade within which were a couple of hundred natives. The women were preparing the evening meal as Tarzan of the apes poised above them in the branches of a giant tree which overhung the palisade at one point. The ape man was at a loss as to how he might enter into communication with these people without either frightening them or arousing their savage love of battle. He had no desire to fight now, for he was upon a much more important mission than that of battling with every chance tribe that he should happen to meet with. At last he hit upon a plan, and after seeing that he was concealed from the view of those below, he gave a few horse grunts in imitation of a panther. All eyes immediately turned upward toward the foliage above. It was growing dark and they could not penetrate the leafy screen which shielded the ape man from their view. The moment that he had won their attention, he raised his voice to the shriller and more hideous scream of the beast he personated, and then, scarce stirring a leaf in his descent, dropped to the ground once again outside the palisade, and, with the speed of a deer, ran quickly round to the village gate. Here he beat upon the fiber-bound saplings of which the barrier was constructed, shouting to the natives in their own tongue that he was a friend who wished food and shelter for the night. Tarzan knew well the nature of the black man. He was aware that the grunting and screaming of Sheeta in the tree above them would set their nerves on edge, and that his pounding upon their gate after dark would still further add to their terror. That they did not reply to his hail was no surprise, for natives are fearful of any voice that comes out of the night from beyond their palisades, attributing it always to some demon or other ghostly visitor. But still he continued to call. Let me in, my friends, he cried. I am a white man, presuming the very bad white man who passed this way a few days ago. I follow to punish him for the sins he has committed against you and me. If you doubt my friendship, I will prove it to you by going into the tree above your village and driving Sheeta back into the jungle before he leaps among you. If you will not promise to take me in and treat me as a friend, I shall let Sheeta stay and devour you. For a moment there was silence. Then the voice of an old man came out of the quiet of the village street. If you are indeed a white man and a friend, we will let you come in, but first you must drive Sheeta away. Very well, replied Tarzan, listen and you shall hear Sheeta fleeing before me. The eight man returned quickly to the tree, and this time he made a great noise as he entered the branches, at the same time growling ominously after the manner of the panther, so that those below would believe that the great beast was still there. When he reached a point well above the village street, he made a great commotion, shaking the tree violently, crying aloud to the panther to flee or be killed and punctuating his own voice with the screams and mouthings of an angry beast. Presently he raced toward the opposite side of the tree and off into the jungle, pounding loudly against the bowls of trees as he went and voicing the panther's diminishing growls as he drew farther and farther away from the village. A few minutes later he returned to the village gate, calling to the natives within. I have driven Sheeta away, he said. Now come and admit me as you promised. For a time there was the sound of excited discussion within the palisade, but at length a half dozen warriors came and opened the gates, peering anxiously out in evident trepidation as to the nature of the creature which they should find waiting there. They were not much relieved at the sight of an almost naked white man, but when Tarzan had reassured them in quiet tones, protesting his friendship for them, they opened the barrier trifle farther and admitted him. When the gates had been once more secured, the self-confidence of the savages returned, and as Tarzan walked up the village street towards the chief's hut, he was surrounded by a host of curious men, women and children. From the chief he learned that Rokov had passed up the river a week previous and that he had horns growing from his forehead and was accompanied by a thousand devils. Later the chief said that the very bad white man had remained a month in his village. Though none of these statements agreed with Kiviris, that the Russian was but three days gone from the chieftain's village, and that his following was much smaller than now stated, Tarzan was in no manner surprised at the discrepancies, for he was quite familiar with the savage mind's strange manner of functioning. What he was most interested in knowing was that he was upon the right trail and that it led toward the interior. In this circumstance he knew that Rokov could never escape him. After several hours of questioning and cross-questioning, the eight men learned that another party had preceded the Russian by several days, three whites, a man, a woman, and a little man-child, with several Masoulas. Tarzan explained to the chief that his people would follow him in a canoe, probably the next day, and that though he might go on ahead of them, the chief was to receive them kindly and have no fear of them, for Mugambi would see that they did not harm the chief's people if they were accorded a friendly reception. And now, he concluded, I shall lie down beneath this tree and sleep. I am very tired. Permit no one to disturb me. The chief offered him a hut, but Tarzan from past experience of native dwellings preferred the open air, and further he had plans of his own that could be better carried out if he remained beneath the tree. He gave, as his reason, a desire to be close at hand should sheat a return, and after this explanation, the chief was very glad to permit him to sleep beneath the tree. Tarzan had always found that it stood him in good stead to leave with natives the impression that he was to some extent possessed of more or less miraculous powers. He might easily have entered their village without recourse to the gates, but he believed that a sudden and unaccountable disappearance when he was ready to leave them would result in a more lasting impression upon their childlike minds, and so as soon as the village was quiet and sleep, he rose and, leaping to the branches of the tree above him, faded silently into the black mystery of the jungle night. All the balance of that night, the eight men swung rapidly through the upper and middle terraces of the forest. When the going was good there, he preferred the upper branches of the giant trees, for then his way was better lighted by the moon. But so accustomed were all his senses to the grim world of his birth that it was possible for him, even in the dense black shadows near the ground, to move with ease and rapidity. You or I, walking beneath the arcs of Main Street or Broadway or State Street, could not have moved more surely or with a tenth the speed of the agile eight man through the gloomy mazes that would have baffled us entirely. At dawn he stopped to feed, and then he slept for several hours taking up the pursuit again toward noon. Twice he came upon natives, and though he had considerable difficulty in approaching them, he succeeded in each instance inquiring both their fears and bellicose intentions toward him, and learned from them that he was upon the trail of the Russian. Two days later, still following up the Ungambi, he came upon a large village. The chief, a wicked looking fellow with the sharp-filed teeth that often denote the cannibal, received him with apparent friendliness. The eight man was now thoroughly fatigued, and had determined to rest for eight or 10 hours that he might be fresh and strong when he caught up with Rokov, as he was sure he must do within a very short time. The chief told him that the bearded white man had left his village only the morning before, and that doubtless he would be able to overtake him in a short time. The other party, the chief had not seen or heard of, so he said. Tarzan did not like the appearance or manner of the fellow, who seen, though friendly enough, to harbor a certain contempt for this half-naked white man who came with no followers and offered no presence. But he needed the rest and food that the village would afford him with less effort than the jungle, and so, as he knew no fear of man, beast or devil, he curled himself up in the shadow of a hut and was soon asleep. Scarcely had he left the chief then the latter called two of his warriors, to whom he whispered a few instructions. A moment later, the sleek black bodies were racing along the river path, upstream toward the east. In the village, the chief maintained perfect quiet. He would permit no one to approach the sleeping visitor, nor any singing, nor loud talking. He was remarkably solicitous lest his guests be disturbed. Three hours later, several canoes came silently into view from up the Ungambi. They were being pushed ahead rapidly by the brawny muscles of their black crews. Upon the bank before the river stood the chief, his spear raised in a horizontal position above his head, as though in some manner a predetermined signal to those within the boats. And such indeed was the purpose of his attitude, which meant that the white stranger within his village still slept peacefully. In the bowels of the two canoes were the runners that the chief had sent forth three hours earlier. It was evident that they had been dispatched to follow and bring back this party, and that the signal from the bank was one that had been determined upon before they left the village. In a few moments the dugouts drew up to the Vaduriklad bank. The native warriors filed out, and with them a half dozen white men. Sullen, ugly-looking customers they were, and none more so than the evil-faced black-bearded man who commanded them. Where is the white man your messengers report to be with you? He asked the chief. This way, Buona, replied the native. Carefully have I kept silence in the village that he might be still asleep when you return. I do not know that he is one who seeks you to do harm, but he questioned me closely about your coming and your going, and his appearance is as that of the one you described, but whom you believe safe in the country, which you called Jungle Island. Had you not told me this tale, I should not have recognized him, and then he might have gone after and slain you. If he is a friend and no enemy, then no harm has been done, Buona. But if he proves to be an enemy, I should like very much to have a rifle and some ammunition. You have done well, replied the white man, and you shall have the rifle and ammunition whether he be a friend or enemy, provided that you stand with me. I shall stand with you, Buona, said the chief, and now come and look upon the stranger who sleeps within my village. So saying, he turned and led the way toward the hut in the shadow of which the unconscious Tarzan slept peacefully. Behind the two men came the remaining whites and the score of warriors, but the raised four fingers of the chief and his companion held them all to perfect silence. As they turned the corner of the hut, cautiously and upon tiptoe, an ugly smile touched the lips of the white as his eyes fell upon the giant figure of the sleeping eight man. The chief looked at the other inquiringly, the latter nodded his head to signify that the chief had made no mistake in his suspicions. Then he turned to those behind him and pointing to the sleeping man, motioned for them to seize and bind him. A moment later a dozen brutes had leaped upon the surprised Tarzan and so quickly did they work that he was securely bound before he can make half an effort to escape. Then they threw him down upon his back and as his eyes turned toward the crowd that stood near, they fell upon the maligned face of Nicholas Rokov. A sneer curled the Russian's lips. He stepped quite close to Tarzan. Pig, he cried, have you not learned sufficient wisdom to keep away from Nicholas Rokov? Then he kicked the prostrate man full in the face. That for your welcome, he said. Tonight, before my Ethiope friends eat you, I shall tell you what has already befalling your wife and child and what further plans I have for their futures. End of chapter seven.