 CHAPTER XVI. IN THE DARKness OF NIGHT. When Tarzan of the Apes realized that he was in the grip of the great jaws of a crocodile, he did not, as an ordinary man might have done, give up all hope and resign himself to his fate. Instead, he filled his lungs with air before the huge reptile dragged him beneath the surface, and then, with all the might of his great muscles, fought bitterly for freedom. But out of his native element, the Eight-Man was too greatly handicapped to do more than excite the monster to greater speed, as it dragged its prey swiftly through the water. Tarzan's lungs were bursting for a breath of pure fresh air. He knew that he could survive but a moment more, and in the last paroxysm of his suffering he did what he could to avenge his own death. His body trailed out beside the slimy carcass of his captor, and into the tough armor the Eight-Man attempted to plunge his stone knife as he was born to the creatures horrid den. His efforts but served to accelerate the speed of the crocodile, and just as the Eight-Man realized that he had reached the limit of his endurance, he felt his body dragged to a muddy bed, and his nostrils rise above the water's surface. All about him was the blackness of the pit, the silence of the grave. For a moment Tarzan of the Apes lay gasping for breath upon the slimy, evil-smelling bed to which the animal had borne him. Close at his side he could feel the cold hard plates of the creature's coat rising and falling as though with spasmodic efforts to breathe. For several minutes the two lay thus, and then a sudden convulsion of the giant carcass at the man's side, a trimmer, and a stiffening brought Tarzan to his knees beside the crocodile. To his utter amazement he found that the beast was dead. The slim knife had found the vulnerable spot in the scaly armor. He realized that he was in the creature's hidden nest far under the bank of the stream, and that doubtless the only means of ingress or egress lay through the submerged opening through which the crocodile had brought him. His first thought, of course, was of escape, but that he could make his way to the surface of the river beyond, and then to the shore seemed highly improbable. There might be turns and windings in the neck of the passage, or most to be feared, he might meet another of the slimy inhabitants of the retreat upon his journey outward. Even should he reach the river in safety, there was still the danger of his being again attacked before he could affect a safe landing. Still, there was no alternative, and filling his lungs with the close and reeking air of the chamber, Tarzan of the apes dived into the dark and watery hole, which he could not see, but had felt out and found with his feet and legs. The leg which had been held within the jaws of the crocodile was badly lacerated, but the bone had not been broken, nor were the muscles or tendons sufficiently injured to render it useless. It gave him excruciating pain, that was all. But Tarzan of the apes was accustomed to pain, and gave it no further thought when he found that the use of his legs was not greatly impaired by the sharp teeth of the monster. Rapidly he crawled and swam through the passage which inclined downward, and finally upward to open at last into the river bottom but a few feet from the shoreline. As the ape man reached the surface, he saw the heads of two great crocodiles but a short distance from him. They were making rapidly in his direction, and with a superhuman effort the man struck out for the overhanging branches of a nearby tree. Nor was he a moment too soon, for scarcely had he drawn himself to the safety of the limb, then two gaping mouths snapped venomously below him. For a few minutes Tarzan rested in the tree that had provided the means of his salvation. His eyes scanned the river as far downstream as a tortuous channel would permit, but there was no sign of the Russian or his dugout. When he had rested and bound up his wounded leg, he started on in pursuit of the drifting canoe. He found himself upon the opposite of the river to that which he had entered the stream. But as his quarry was upon the bosom of the water, it made little difference to the ape man upon which side he took up the pursuit. To his intense chagrin, he soon found that his leg was more badly injured than he had thought, and that its condition seriously impeded his progress. It was only with the greatest difficulty that he could proceed faster than a walk upon the ground, and in the trees he discovered that it not only impeded his progress, but rendered traveling distinctly dangerous. From the old niggurus tambudza, Tarzan had gathered a suggestion that now filled his minds with doubts and misgivings. When the old woman had told him of the child's death, she had also added that the white woman, though grief-stricken, had confided to her that the baby was not hers. Tarzan could see no reason for believing that Jane could have found it advisable to deny her identity or that of the child. The only explanation that he could put upon the matter was that after all, the white woman who had accompanied the son and the swede into the jungle fastness of the interior had not been Jane at all. The more he gave thought to the problem, the more firmly convinced he became that his son was dead and that his wife was still safe in London, and an ignorance of the terrible fate that had overtaken her firstborn. After all, then, his interpretation of Rokov's sinister taunt had been erroneous, and he had been bearing the burden of a double apprehension needlessly. At least so thought the eight man. From this belief he garnered some slight surcease from the numbing grief that the death of his little son had thrust upon him. And such a death, even the savage beast that was the real Tarzan, a nerd to the sufferings and horrors of the grim jungle, shuddered as he contemplated the hideous fate that had overtaken the innocent child. As he made his way painfully towards the coast, he let his mind dwell so constantly upon the frightful crimes which the Russian had perpetrated against his loved ones, that the great scar upon his forehead stood out almost continuously in the vivid scarlet that marked the man's most relentless and bestial moods of rage. At times he startled even himself and sent the lesser creatures of the wild jungle scampering to their hiding places as involuntary roars and growls grumbled from his throat. Could he but lay his hands upon the Russian? Twice upon the way to the coast, Bellicoste natives ran threateningly from their villages to bar his further progress. But when the awful cry of the bull ape thundered upon their affrightened ears and the great white giant charged bellowing upon them, they had turned and fled into the bush, nor ventured thence until he had safely passed. Though his progress seemed tantalizingly slow to the eight man, whose idea of speed had been gained by such standards as the lesser apes attain, he made as a matter of fact, almost as rapid progress as the drifting canoe that bore rocoffed on ahead of him. So that he came to the bay and with insight of the ocean just after darkness had fallen upon the same day that Jane Clayton and the Russian ended their flights from the interior. The darkness lowered so heavily upon the Black River in the encircling jungle that Tarzan, even with eyes accustomed to much use after dark, could make out nothing a few yards from him. His idea was to search the shore that night for signs of the Russian and the woman who he was certain must have proceeded rocoff down the Ugambi. That the concaid or other ship lay at anchor but a hundred yards from him he did not dream, for no light showed on board the steamer. Even as he commenced to search his attention was suddenly attracted by a noise that he had not at first perceived. The stealthy dip of paddles in the water, some distance from the shore, and about opposite the point at which he stood. Motionless as a statue he stood, listening to the faint sound. Presently it ceased, to be followed by a shuffling noise that the eight man's trained ears could interpret as resulting from but a single cause, the scraping of leather-shot feet upon the rounds of a ship's monkey-letter. And yet, as far as he could see, there was no ship there, nor might there be one within a thousand miles. As he stood thus, peering out into the darkness of the cloud-inshrouded night, there came to him from across the water like a slap in the face so sudden an unexpected was it, the sharp staccato of an exchange of shots, and then the scream of a woman. Wounded though he was, and with the memory of his recent horrible experiences still strong upon him, Tarzan of the apes did not hesitate as the notes of that frightened cry rose shrill and piercing upon the still night air. With a bound he cleared the intervening bush. There was a splash as the water closed about him. And then, with powerful strokes he swam out into the impenetrable night, with no guide saved the memory of an elusive cry, and for company the hideous denizens of an equatorial river. The boat that had attracted Jane's attention as she stood guard upon the deck of the Kincaid had been perceived by Rokov upon one bank, and Mugavi and the Horde upon the other. The cries of the Russian had brought the dugout first to him, and then, after a conference, it had been turned toward the Kincaid, but before ever it covered half the distance between the shore and the steamer, a rifle had spoken from the latter's deck, and one of the sailors in the bow of the canoe had crumpled and fallen into the water. After that they went more slowly. And presently, when Jane's rifle found another member of the party, the canoe withdrew to the shore, where it lay as long as daylight lasted. The savage snarling pack upon the opposite shore had been directed in their pursuit by the Black Warrior Mugavi, chief of the Wagambi. Only he knew which might be foe and which friend of their lost master. Could they have reached either the canoe or the Kincaid, they would have made short work of any whom they found there. But the Gulf of Blackwater intervening shut them all from further advance as effectively as though it had been the broad ocean that separated them from their prey. Mugavi knew something of the occurrences, which had led up to the landing of Tarzan upon Jungle Island and the pursuit of the Whites up the Ugambi. He knew that a savage master saw his wife and child, who had been stolen by the wicked white man whom they had followed far into the interior and now back to the sea. He believed also that the same man had killed the great white giant whom he had come to respect and love as he had never loved the greatest chiefs of his own people. And so in the wild breast of Mugambi burned an iron resolve to win to the side of the wicked one and wreaked vengeance upon him for the murder of the eight man. But when he saw the canoe come down the river and take in Rokov, when he saw it make for the Kincaid, he realized that only by possessing himself of a canoe could he hope to transport the beast of the pack within striking distance of the enemy. So it happened that even before Jane Clayton fired the first shot into Rokov's canoe, the beast of Tarzan had disappeared into the jungle. After the Russian Anis party, which consisted of Palvich and the several men he had left upon the Kincaid to attend to the matter of coaling, had retreated before her fire, Jane realized that it would be but a temporary spite from their attentions which she had gained. And with the conviction came a determination to make a bold and final stroke for freedom from the menacing threat of Rokov's evil purpose. With this idea in view, she opened negotiations with the two sailors she had imprisoned in the Forecastle. And having forced their consent to her plans, upon pain of death should they attempt disloyalty, she released them just as darkness closed about the ship. With ready revolver to compel obedience, she let them up one by one, searching them carefully for concealed weapons as they stood with hands elevated above their heads. Once satisfied that they were unarmed, she set them to work cutting the cable which held the Kincaid to her anchorage. For her bold plan was nothing less than to set the steamer adrift and float with her out to the open sea, there to trust to the mercy of the elements. Which she was confident would be no more merciless than Nicholas Rokov should he again capture her. There was, too, the chance that the Kincaid might be cited by some passing ship, and as she was well stocked with provisions and water. The men had assured her of this fact. And as the season of storm was well over, she had every reason to hope for the eventual success of her plan. The night was deeply overcast, heavy clouds riding low above the jungle in the water. Only to the west, where the broad ocean spread beyond the river's mouth, was there a suggestion of lessening gloom. It was a perfect night for the purposes of the work in hand. Her enemies could not see the activity aboard the ship, nor mark her course as the swift current bore her outward into the ocean. Before daylight broke, the Edtide would have carried the Kincaid well into the Bengal Accurrent which flows northward along the coast of Africa. And as a south wind was prevailing, Jane hoped to be out of sight of the mouth of the Ugambi before Rokov could become aware of the departure of the steamer. Standing over the laboring seamen, the young woman breathed a sigh of relief as the last strand of cable parted, and she knew that the vessel was on its way out of the mall of the savage Ugambi. With her two prisoners still beneath the coercing influence of her rifle, she ordered them upon deck with the intention of again imprisoning them in the forecastle. But at length, she permitted herself to be influenced by their promises of loyalty, and the arguments which they put forth that they could be of service to her, and permitted them to remain above. For a few minutes the Kincaid drifted rapidly with the current, and then, with a grinding jar, she stopped in midstream. The ship had run upon a low-lying bar that split to the channel about a quarter of a mile from the sea. For a moment she hung there, and then, swinging round to her bow pointed toward the shore, she broke adrift once more. At the same instant, just as Jane Clayton was congratulating herself that the ship was once more free, there fell upon her ears from a point up the river about where the Kincaid had been anchored the rattle of musketry at a woman's screen. Shrill, piercing, fear-laden. The sailors heard the shots with certain conviction that they announced the coming of their employer, and as they had no relish for the plan that would consign them to the deck of a drifting derelict, they whispered together a hurried plan to overcome the young woman and hail Rokov and their companions to their rescue. It seemed that fate would play into their hands. For, with the reports of the guns, Jane Clayton's attention had been distracted from her unwilling assistance, and instead of keeping one eye upon them as she had intended doing, she ran to the bow of the Kincaid to peer through the darkness toward the sorts of the disturbance upon the river's bosom. Seeing that she was all for guard, the two sailors crept stealthily upon her from behind. The scraping upon the deck of the shoes of one of them startled the girl into a sudden apprehension of her danger. But the warning had come too late. As she turned, both men leaped upon her and bore her to the deck. And as she went down beneath them she saw, outlined against the lesser gloom of the ocean, the figure of another man, over the side of the Kincaid. After all her pains, her heroic struggle for freedom had failed. With a stifled sob, she gave up the unequal battle. CHAPTER XVII. ON THE DECK OF THE KINCAID. When Magombi had turned back into the jungle with the pack, he had a definite purpose in view. It was to obtain a dugout wherewith to transport the beast of Tarzan to the side of the Kincaid. Nor was he long in coming upon the object which he sought. Just at dusk, he found the canoe moored to the bank of a small tributary of the Ugambi at a point where he had felt certain that he should find one. Without loss of time, he plied his hideous fellows into the craft and shoved out into the stream. So quickly had they taken possession of the canoe that the warrior had not noticed that it was already occupied. The huddled figure sleeping in the bottom had entirely escaped his observation in the darkness of the night that had now fallen. But no sooner were they afloat than a savage growling from one of the apes directly ahead of him in the dugout attracted his attention to a shivering and cowering figure that trembled between him and the great anthropoid. To Magombi's astonishment, he saw that it was a native woman. With difficulty, he kept the ape from her throat and after a time succeeded in quelling her fears. It seemed that she had been fleeing from marriage with an old man she loathed, and had taken refuge for the night in the canoe she had found upon the river's edge. Magombi did not wish her presence, but there she was. And rather than lose time by returning her to the shore, the black permitted her to remain on board the canoe. As quickly as his awkward companions could paddle the dugout downstream toward the Ugambi in the concave, they moved through the darkness. It was with difficulty that Magombi could make out the shadowy form of the steamer. But as he had it between himself and the ocean, it was much more apparent than to want upon either shore of the river. As he approached it, he was amazed to note that it seemed to be receding from him, and finally he was convinced that the vessel was moving downstream. Just as he was about to urge his creatures to renewed efforts to overtake the steamer, the outline of another canoe burst suddenly into view not three yards from the bow of his own craft. At the same instant, the occupants of the stranger discovered the proximity of Magombi's hoard, but they did not at first recognize the nature of the fearful crew. A man in the bow of the oncoming boat challenged them just as the two dugouts were about to touch. For answer came the menacing growl of a panther, and the fellow found himself gazing into the flaming eyes of Sheeta, who had raised himself with his forepaws upon the bow of the boat, ready to leap upon the occupants of the other craft. Instantly, Rokov realized the peril that confronted him and his fellows. He gave a quick command to fire upon the occupants of the other canoe, and it was this volley and the scream of the terrified native woman in the canoe with Magombi that both Tarzan and Jane had heard. Before the slower and less skilled paddlers in Magombi's canoe could press their advantage and affect the boarding of the enemy, the latter had turned swiftly downstream and were paddling for their lives in the direction of the concaid, which was now visible to them. The vessel, after striking upon the bar, had swung loose again into a slow-moving eddy, which returns upstream close to the southern shore of the Magombi, only to circle out once more and join the downward flow a hundred yards or so farther up. Thus the concaid was returning Jane Clayton directly into the hands of her enemies. It so happened that as Tarzan sprang into the river, the vessel was not visible to him, and as he swam out into the night he had no idea that a ship drifted so close in hand. He was guided by the sounds which he could hear coming from the two canoes. As he swam, he had vivid recollections of the last occasion upon which he had swum in the waters of the Ugonbi, and with them a sudden shudder shook the frame of the giant. But, though he twice felt something brush against his legs from the slimy depths below him, nothing seized him, and of a sudden he quite forgot about crocodiles in the astonishment of seeing a dark mass loom suddenly before him, where he had still expected to find the open river. So close was it that a few strokes brought him up to the thing. When to his amazement his outstretched hand came in contact with the ship's side. As the agile eight man clambered over the vessel's rail, there came two assentative ears of the sounds of a struggle at the opposite side of the deck. Noiselessly he sped across the intervening space. The moon had risen now, and though the dark was still banked with clouds, a lesser darkness enveloped the scene than that which had blotted out all sight earlier in the night. His keen eyes, therefore, saw the figures of two men grappling with a woman. That it was the woman who had accompanied Anderson toward the interior he did not know, though he suspected as much, as he was now quite certain that this was the deck of the concage upon which Chance had led him. But he wasted little time in idle speculation. There was a woman in danger of harm from two ruffians, which was enough excuse for the eight man to project his giant fuse into the conflict without further investigation. The first that either of the sailors knew that there was a new force at work upon the ship was the falling of a mighty hand upon a shoulder of each. As if they had been in a grip of a flywheel, they were jerked suddenly from their prey. What means this? asked a low voice in their ears. They were given no time to reply, however, for at the sound of that voice the young woman had sprung to her feet and, with a little cry of joy, leaped toward their assailant. Tarzan, she cried. The eight men hurled the two sailors across the deck where they rolled, stunned and terrified into the scuppers upon the opposite side, and with an exclamation of incredulity gathered the girl into his arms. Brief, however, were the moments for their greeting. Scarcely had they recognized one another, then the clouds above them parted to show the figures of a half dozen men clambering over the side of the concage to the steamer's deck. Almost among them was the Russian. As the brilliant rays of the equatorial moon lighted the deck, and he realized that the man before him was Lord Greystoke, he screamed hysterical commands to his followers to fire upon the two. Tarzan pushed Jane behind the cabin near where they had been standing, and with a quick bound started for Rokov. The men behind the Russian, at least two of them, raised their rifles and fired at the charging eight men. But those behind them were otherwise engaged. For up the monkey ladder in their rear was thronging a hideous horde. First came five starling apes, huge man-like beasts with bared fangs and slavering jaws, and after them a giant black warrior, his long spear gleaming in the moonlight. Behind him again scrambled another creature, and of all the horrid horde it was this they most feared. Sheeta, the panther, with gleaming jaws agape and fiery eyes blazing at them in the mightiness of his hate and of his bloodlust. The shots that had been fired at Tarzan missed him, and he would have been upon Rokov in another instant had not the great coward dodged backward between his two henchmen, and screaming in hysterical terror bolted forward toward the forecastle. For the moment Tarzan's attention was distracted by the two men before him so that he could not at the time pursue the Russian. About him the apes of Mugambi were battling with the balance of the Russian's party. Beneath the terrible ferocity of the beast the men were soon scampering in all directions. Those who still lived to scamper, for great fangs of the apes of a cut in the tearing talons of Sheeta already had found more than a single victim. For however, escaped and disappeared into the forecastle, where they hoped to barricade themselves against further assault. Here they found Rokov, and enraged at his desertion of them in their moment of peril, no less than at the uniformly brutal treatment it had been his want to accord them. They gloated upon the opportunity now offered them to revenge themselves in part upon their hated employer. Despite his prayers and groveling pleas therefore, they hurled him bodily out upon the deck, delivering him to the mercy of the fearful things from which they themselves had just escaped. Tarzan saw the man emerge from the forecastle, saw and recognized his enemy, but another saw him even as soon. It was Sheeta, and with grinning jaws the mighty beast slunk silently toward the terror-stricken man. When Rokov saw what it was that stalked him, his shrieks for help filled the air. As with trembling knees he stood, as when paralyzed, before the hideous death that was creeping upon him. Tarzan took a step toward the Russian, his brain burning with a raging fire of vengeance. At last he had the murder of his son at his mercy. It was his right to avenge. Once Jane had stayed his hand that time that he sought to take the law into his own power and meet to Rokov the death that he had so long merited. But this time none should stay him. His fingers clenched and unclenched spasmodically as he approached the trembling rusts, beast-like and ominous as a brood of prey. Presently he saw that Sheeta was about to forestall him, robbing him of the fruits of his great hate. He called sharply to the panther, and the words as if they had broken a hideous spell that had held the Russian, galvanized him into sudden action. With a scream he turned and fled toward the bridge. After him pounced Sheeta the panther, unmindful of his master's warning voice. Tarzan was about to leap after the two when he felt a light touch upon his arm. Turning, he found Jane at his elbow. Do not leave me, she whispered. I am afraid. Tarzan glanced behind her. All about were the hideous apes of a cut. Some even were approaching the young woman with bared fangs and menacing guttural warnings. The Eight-Man warned them back. He had forgotten for the moment that these were but beasts, unable to differentiate his friends and his foes. Their savage natures were roused by their recent battle with the sailors, and now all flesh outside the pack was meat to them. Tarzan turned again toward the Russian, chagrin that he should have to forego the pleasure of personal revenge, unless the man should escape Sheeta. But as he looked he saw that there could be no hope of that. The fellow had retreated to the end of the bridge, where he now stood trembling and wide-eyed, facing the beast that moved slowly toward him. The panther crawled with belly to the planking, uttering uncanny mouthings. Rokov stood as opetrified, his eyes protruding from their sockets, his mouth agape, and the cold sweat of terror clammy upon his brow. Below him, upon the deck, he had seen the great anthropoids, and so had not dared to seek escape in that direction. In fact, even now, one of the brutes was leaping to seize the bridge-rail to draw himself up to the Russian side. Before him was the panther, silent, and crouched. Rokov could not move. His knees trembled. His voice broken in articulate shrieks. With a last piercing wail he sank to his knees, and then sheed a sprang. Full upon the man's breast the tawny body hurled, tumbling the Russian to his back. As the great fangs tore at the throat and chest, Jane Clayton turned away in horror, but not so tarzen of the apes. A cold smile of satisfaction touched his lips. The scar upon his forehead that had burned scarlet faded to the normal hue of his tan skin, and disappeared. Rokov fought furiously, but futilely against the growling, rending fate that had overtaken him. For all his hideous crimes he was punished in the brief moment of the hideous death that had claimed him at last. After his struggle ceased, Tarzen approached at Jane's suggestion to rest the body from the panther and give what remained of it decent human burial. But the great cat rose snarling above its kill, threatening even the master it loved in its savage way, so that rather than kill his friend of the jungle, Tarzen was forced to relinquish his intentions. All that night sheed of the panther crouched upon the grizzly thing that had been Nicholas Rokov. The bridge of the concaid was slippery with blood. Beneath the brilliant tropical moon the great beast feasted, until, when the sun rose the following morning, the remains of Tarzen's great enemy only nod and broken bones. Of the Russian's party all were accounted for except Pauvich. Four were prisoners in the concaid's forecastle, the rest were dead. With these men Tarzen got up steam upon the vessel, and with the knowledge of the mate, who happened to be one of those surviving, he planned to set sail in quest of jungle island. But as the morning dawn there came with it a heavy gale from the west, which raised a sea into which the mate of the concaid dare not venture. All that day the ship lay within the shelter of the mouth of the river. For, though night witnessed a lessening of the wind, it was thought safer to wait for daylight before attempting the navigation of the winding channel to the sea. Upon the deck of the steamer the pack wandered with outlet or hindrance by day, for they had soon learned through Tarzen and Mugami that they must harm no one upon the concaid, but at night they were confined below. Tarzen's joy had been unbounded when he learned from his wife that the little child who had died in the village of Maganwuzan was not their son. Who the baby could have been, or why to become of their own they could not imagine. And as both Rokov and Pauvich were gone there was no way of discovery. There was, however, a certain sense of relief in the knowledge that they might yet hope. Until positive proof of the baby's death reached them there was always that to buoy them up. It seemed quite evident that their little jack had not been brought aboard the concaid. Anderson would have known of it had such been the case, but he had assured Jane time and time again that the little one he had brought to her cabin the night he aided her to escape was the only one that had been aboard the concaid since she lay at Dover. End of Chapter 17 CHAPTER 18 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 Egger Rice Burroughs CHAPTER 18 Pauvich Plots Revenge As Jane and Tarzan stood upon the vessel's deck recounting to one another the details of the various adventures through which each had passed since they had parted in their London home. There glared at them from beneath scowling brows a hidden watcher upon the shore. Through the man's brain passed plan after plan whereby he might thwart the escape of the English man and his wife. For so long as the vital spark remained within the vindictive brain of Alexander Pauvich, none who would arouse the entity of the Russian might be entirely safe. Plan after plan he formed, only to discard each is either impracticable or unworthy the vengeance his wrongs demanded. So wart by faulty reasoning was the criminal mind of Rokov's lieutenant, that he could not grasp the real truth of that which lay between himself and the eight man, and see that always the fault had been, not with the English lord, but with himself and his confederate. And at the rejection of each new scheme, Pauvich arrived always at the same conclusion, that he could accomplish naught while half the breadth of the Ugambis separated him from the object of his hatred. But how was he to span the crocodile-infested waters? There was no canoe near the Musala village, and Pauvich was none too sure that the concaid would still be an anchor in the river when he returned. Should he take the time to traverse the jungle to the distant village and return with a canoe? Yet there was no other way, and so convinced that thus alone might he hope to reach his prey, Pauvich with a parting scowl at the two figures upon the concaid's deck turned away from the river. Hastening through the dense jungle, his mind centered upon one fetish, revenge. The Russian forgot even his terror of the savage world through which he moved. Baffled and beaten at every turn of fortune's wheel, reacted upon time after time by his own malign plotting, the principal victim of his own criminality. Pauvich was yet so blind as to imagine that his greatest happiness lay in the continuation of the ploddings and schemings which had ever brought him and Rokov to disaster, and the latter finally to a hideous death. As the Russians stumbled on through the jungle towards the Musala village, they're presently crystallized within his brain a plan which seemed more feasible than any that he had as yet considered. He would come by night to the site of the concaid, and once aboard would search out the members of the ship's original crew who would survive the terrors of the Russian's frightful expedition, and enlist them in an attempt to rest the vessel from Tarzan and his beast. In the cabin were arms and ammunition, and hidden in a secret receptacle in the cabin table was one of those infernal machines, the construction of which had occupied much of Pauvich's spare time, when he had stood high in the confidence of the nihilist of his native land. That was before he had sold him out for immunity and gold to the police of Petrograd. Pauvich winced as he recalled a denunciation of him that had fallen from the lips of one of his former comrades, ere the poor devil had expiated his political sins at the end of a hempen rope. But the infernal machine was the thing to think of now. He could do much with it if he could but get his hands upon it. Within the little hardwood case hidden in the cabin table rested sufficient potential destructiveness to wipe out in the fraction of a second every enemy aboard the concaid. Pauvich licked his lips in anticipatory joy, and urged his tired legs to greater speed that he might not be too late to the ship's anchorage to carry out his designs. It all depended, of course, upon when the concaid departed. The Russian realized that nothing could be accomplished beneath the light of day. Darkness must shroud his approach to the ship's side, for should he be cited by Tarzan or Lady Greystoke, he would have no chance to board the vessel. The gale that was blowing was, he believed, the cause of the delay in getting the concaid underway, and if it continued to blow until night, then the chances were all in his favor, for he knew that there was little likelihood of the eight-man attempting to navigate the tortuous channel of the Yugambi, while darkness lay upon the surface of the water, hiding the many bars in the numerous small islands which are scattered over the expanse of the river's mouth. It was well afternoon when Pauvich came to the Masula village upon the bank of the tributary of the Yugambi. Here he was receded with suspicion and unfriendliness by the native chief, who, like all those who came in contact with Rokof or Pauvich, had suffered in some manner from the greed, the cruelty, or the lust of the two Muscovites. When Pauvich demanded the use of a canoe, the chief grumbled a surly refusal and ordered the white man from the village. Surrounded by angry muttering warriors who seemed to be waiting but some slight pretext to transfix him with their menacing spears, the Russian could do not else and then withdraw. A dozen fighting men led him to the edge of the clearing, leaving him with a warning never to show himself again in the vicinity of their village. Stifling his anger, Pauvich slunked into the jungle, but once beyond the side of the warriors he paused and listened intently. He could hear the voices of his escort as the men returned to the village, and when he was sure they were not following him, he warmed his way through the bushes to the edge of the river, still determined some way to obtain a canoe. Life itself depended upon his reaching the concave and enlisting the survivors of the ship's crew to his service, for to be abandoned here amidst the dangers of the African jungle, where he had won the entity of the natives was, he well knew, practically equivalent to a sentence of death. A desire for revenge acted as an almost equally powerful incentive to spur him into the face of danger to accomplish his design. So it was a desperate man that lay hidden in the foliage beside the little river, searching with eager eyes for some sign of a small canoe which might be easily handled by a single paddle. Nor had the Russian long to wait before one of the awkward little skiffs which a Missoula fashion came in sight upon the bosom of the river. A youth was paddling lazily out into midstream from a point beside the village. When he reached the channel, he allowed the sluggish current to carry him slowly along, while he lulled indolently in the bottom of his crew canoe. All ignorant of the unseen enemy upon the river's bank, the lad floated slowly down the stream, while Palvich followed along the jungle path a few yards behind him. A mile below the village, the black boy dipped his paddle into the water, and forced his skiff toward the bank. Palvich, elated by the chance which had drawn the youth to the same side of the river as that along which he followed rather than upon the opposite side where he would have been beyond the stalker's reach, hid in the bush close to the point at which it was evident the skiff would touch the bank of the slow-moving stream, which seemed jealous of each fleeting instant which drew it nearer to the broad and muddy Ugonbi, where it must forever lose its identity in the larger stream that would presently cast its waters into the great ocean. Equally indolent were the motions of the Missoula youth as he drew his skiff beneath the overhanging limb of a giant tree that leaned down to implant its farewell kiss upon the bosom of the departing water, caressing with green fronds the soft breast of its languorous love. And snake-like, amidst the concealing foliage lay the benevolent rusts. Cruel, shifty eyes gloated upon the outline to the coveted canoe and measured the stature of its owner, while the crafty brain weighed the chances of the white man shift physical encounter with the black become necessary. Only direct necessity could drive Alexander Palvich to personal conflict, but it was indeed dire necessity which goaded him on to action now. There was time, just time enough, to reach the concaved by nightfall. With the black fool never quit his skiff, Palvich squirmed and fidgeted, the lad yawned and stretched. With exasperating deliberateness he examined his arrows in his quiver, tested his bow, and looked to the edge upon the hunting-knife in his loincloth. Again he stretched and yawned, glanced up at the river bank, shrugged his shoulders, and lay down on the bottom of his canoe for a little nap. Before he plunged into the jungle after the prey he had come forth to hunt. Palvich half rose, and with tense muscle stood glaring down upon his unsuspecting victim. The boy's lips drooped and closed. Presently his breast rose and fell to the deep breaths of slumber. The time had come. The Russian crept stealthily nearer. A branch rustled beneath his weight, and the lad stirred in his sleep. Palvich drew his revolver and leveled it upon the black. For a moment he remained in rigid quiet, and then again the youth relapsed into an undisturbed slumber. The white man crept closer. He could not chance a shot until there was no risk of missing. Presently he leaned close above the masala. The cold steel of the revolver in his hand insinuating itself nearer and nearer to the breast of the unconscious lad. Now it stopped but a few inches above the strongly beating heart. But the pressure of a finger lay between the harmless boy and eternity. The soft bloom of youth still lay upon the brown cheek. A smile half parted the beardless lips. Did any qualm of consciousness point its disquieting finger of reproach at the murderer? To all such was Alexander Palvich immune. A sneer curled his bearded lips as its forefinger closed upon the trigger of his revolver. There was a loud report. A little hole appeared above the heart of the sleeping boy. A little hole about which lay a blacken rim of powder-burned flesh. The youthful body half rose to a sitting posture. The smiling lips tense to the nervous shock of a momentary agony which the conscious mind never apprehended. And then the dead sank limply back into that deepest of slumbers from which there is no awakening. The killer dropped quickly to the skiff beside the killed. Ruthless hand seized the dead boy heartlessly and raised him to the low gunwale. A little shove, a splash, some widening ripples broken by a sudden surge of a dark, hidden body from the slimy depths. And the coveted canoe was in the sole possession of the white man. More savage than the youth whose life he had taken. Casting off the tie rope and seizing the paddle, Palvich bent fervently to the task of driving the skiff downward toward the ugambi at top speed. Night had fallen when the prow of the blood-stained craft shot out into the current of the larger stream. Constantly the Russian strained his eyes into the increasing darkness ahead and vain endeavored to pierce the black shadows which lay between him and the anchorage of the concaid. Was the ship still riding there upon the waters of the ugambi, or had the eight-man at last persuaded himself of the safety of venturing forth into the abating storm? As Palvich forged ahead with the current he asked himself these questions and many more beside. Not the least disquieting of which were those which related to his future should it chance that the concaid had already steamed away, leaving him to the merciless horrors of the savage wilderness. In the darkness it seemed to the paddler that he was fairly flying over the water, and he had become convinced that the ship had left her moorings and that he had already passed the spot at which she had lain earlier in the day, when there appeared before him beyond the projecting point which he had just rounded, the flickering light from his ship's lantern. Alexander Palvich could scarce restrain an exclamation of triumph. The concaid had not departed. Life and vengeance were not to elude him after all. He stopped paddling the moment that he described the gleaming beacon of hope ahead of him. Silently he drifted down the muddy waters of the Ugambi, occasionally dipping his paddle's blade gently into the current that he might guide his primitive craft to the vessel's side. As he approached more closely, the dark bulk of a ship loomed before him out of the blackness of the night. No sound came from the vessel's deck. Palvich drifted unseen close to the concaid's side. Only the momentary scraping of his canoe's nose against the ship's planking broke the silence of the night. Trembling with nervous excitement, the rush remained motionless for several minutes. But there was no sound from the great bulk above him to indicate that his coming had been noted. Stealthily he worked his craft forward until the stays of the bowsprit were directly above him. He could just reach them. To make his canoe fast there was the work of but a minute or two, and then the man raised himself quietly aloft. A moment later he dropped softly to the deck. Thoughts of the hideous pack which tended to the ship induced cold tremors along the spine of the cowardly prowler. But life itself depended upon the success of his venture, and so he was unable to steal himself to the frightful chances which lay before him. No sound or sight of watch appeared upon the ship's deck. Palvich crept stealthily toward the forecastle, all with silence. The hatch was raised, and as the man peered downward he saw one of the concaid's crew reading by the light of a smoky lantern depending from the ceiling of the crew's quarters. Palvich knew the man well, a surly cutthroat upon whom he figured strongly in the carrying out of the plan which he had conceived. Gently the rust lowered himself through the aperture to the rounds of the ladder which led to the forecastle. He kept his eyes turned upon the reading man, ready to warn him to silence the moment that the fellow discovered him. But so deeply immersed was the sailor in the magazine that the rushing came unobserved to the forecastle floor. There he turned and whispered the reader's name. The man raised his eyes from the magazine, eyes that went wide for a moment as they fell upon the familiar countenance of Rokov's lieutenant, only to narrow instantly in a scowl of disapproval. The devil, he ejaculated, where did you come from? We all thought you were done for and gone where you ought to have gone a long time ago. His lordship will be mighty pleased to see you. Palvich crossed to the sailor's side, a friendly smile lay upon the Russian's lips, and his right hand was extended and greeting, as though the other might have been a dear and long lost friend. The sailor ignored the proffered hand, nor did he return the other's smile. I've come to help you, explained Palvich. I'm going to help you get rid of the Englishman and his beast. Then there will be no danger from the law when we get back to civilization. We can sneak in on them while they sleep, that is, Grey Stoke and his wife, and that black scoundrel Mugambi. Afterward it will be a simple matter to clean up the beast. Where are they? They're below, replied the sailor. But just let me tell you one thing, Palvich. You haven't got no more show to turn us men against the Englishman than nothing. We had all we wanted of you and that other beast. He's dead. And if I don't miss my guess, the whole lot of you will be dead too before long. You two treated us like dogs. And if you think we got any love for you, you better forget it. You mean to say that you're going to turn against me? Demanded Palvich. The other nodded. And then, after a momentary pause during which an idea seemed to have occurred to him, he spoke again. Unless, he said, you can make it worth my while to let you go before the Englishman finds you here. You wouldn't turn me away into the jungle, would you, as Palvich? Why, I'd die there in a week. You'd have a chance there, replied the sailor. Here you wouldn't have no chance. Why, if I woke up my matey seer, they'd probably cut your heart out of you before the Englishman got a chance at you at all. It's mightily lucky for you that I'm the one to be awake now and not one of the others. You're crazy, cried Palvich. Don't you know that the Englishman will have you all hanged when he gets you back to where the law can get ahold of you? No. He won't do nothing of the kind, replied the sailor. He's told us as much, for he says that there wasn't nobody to blame but you and Rokov. The rest of us was just tools, see? For half an hour the rush implanted or threatened as the mood seized him. Sometimes he was upon the verge of tears. And again he was promising his listener either fabulous rewards or cogent punishment, but the other was obdurate. He made it plain to the Russian that there were but two plans open to him. Either he must consent to being turned over immediately to Lord Greystoke, or he must pay to the sailor as a price for permission to quit to concede a molested every cent of money and article of value upon his person and his cabin. And you'll have to make up your mind mighty quick, growled the man, for I want to turn in. Come on, now choose, his lordship or the jungle. You'll be sorry for this, grumbled the Russian. Shut up, it monished the sailor. If you get funny, I may change my mind and keep you here after all. Now, Pauvitch had no intention of permitting himself to fall into the hands of Tarzan of the Apes if he could possibly avoid it. And while the terrors of the jungle appalled him, they were, to his mind, infinitely preferable to the certain death which he knew he merited, and for which he might look at the hands of the ape-man. Is anyone sleeping in my cabin? he asked. The sailor shook his head. No, he said. Lord and Lady Greystoke have the captain's cabin. The maid is in his own. And there ain't no one in yours. I'll go and get my valuables for you, said Pauvitch. I'll go with you and see that you don't try any funny business, said the sailor, and he followed the Russian up the ladder to the deck. At the cabin entrance the sailor halted to watch, permitting Pauvitch to go alone to his cabin. Here he gathered together as few belongings that were to buy him the uncertain safety of escape. And as he stood for a moment beside the little table in which he had piled them, he searched his brain for some feasible plan, either to ensure his safety or to bring revenge upon his enemies. And presently, as he thought, there occurred to his memory the little black box which lay hidden in a secret receptacle beneath the false top on the table where his hand rested. The Russian's face lighted to a sinister gleam of malevolent satisfaction, as he stooped and felt beneath the tabletop. A moment later he would drew from its hiding place the thing he sought. He had lighted the lantern swinging from the beams overhead that he might see to collect his belongings. And now he held the black box well in the rays of the lamp light, while he fingered at the clasp that fastened its lid. The lifted cover revealed two compartments within the box. And one was a mechanism which resembled the works of a small clock. There was also a little battery of two dry cells. A wire ran from the clockwork to one of the poles of the battery, and from the other pole threw the partition into the other compartment. A second wire returning directly to the clockwork. Whatever lay within the second compartment was not visible, for a cover lay over it and appeared to be sealed in place by a spaltom. In the bottom of the box beside the clockwork lay a key, and this pulvage now withdrew and fitted to the winding stem. Gently he turned the key, muffling the noise of the winding operation by throwing a couple of articles of clothing over the box. All the time he listened intently for any sound which might indicate that the sailor or another were approaching his cabin, but none came to interrupt his work. When the winding was completed the Russian set a pointer upon a small dial at the side of the clockwork, and then he replaced the cover upon the black box and returned the entire machine to its hiding place in the table. A sinister smile curled the man's bearded lips as he gathered up his valuables, blew out the lamp, and stepped from his cabin to the side of the waiting sailor. Here are my things, said the Russian. Now let me go. I'll first take a look in your pockets, replied the sailor. You might have overlooked some trifling thing that won't be of no use to you in the jungle, but that'll come in mighty handy to a poor sailorman in London. Ah, just as I feared, he ejaculated an instant later as he withdrew a roll of banknotes from Paulvitch inside Coat Pocket. The Russian scowled, muttering an implication, but nothing could be gained by argument, and so he did his best to reconcile himself to his loss and the knowledge that the sailor would never reach London to enjoy the fruits of his thievery. It was with considerable difficulty that Paulvitch restrained a consuming desire to taunt the man with the suggestion of the fate that would presently overtake him and the other members of the concaged company. But, fearing to arouse a fellow suspicion, he crossed the deck and lowered himself in silence to his canoe. A minute or two later he was paddling toward the shore to be swallowed up in the darkness of the jungle night, and the terrors of the hideous existence from which could he have had even the slight foreknowledge of what awaited him in the long years to come he would have fled to the certain death of the open sea rather than endure it. The sailor, having made sure that Paulvitch had departed, returned to the forecastle, where he hit away his booty and returned to his bunk. While in the cabin that belonged to the Russian there ticked on and on through the silence of the night the little mechanism in the small black box, which held the unconscious sleepers upon the ill-starred concaged the coming vengeance of the thwarted Russian. CHAPTER XIX 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 XIX THE LAST OF THE CONCADE Shortly after the break of day Tarzan was on deck noting the condition of the weather. The wind had abated. The sky was cloudless. Every condition seemed ideal for the commencement of the return voyage to Jungle Island, where the beast were to be left, and then home. The eight-man aroused the mate and gave instructions that the concaged sail at the earliest possible moment. The remaining members of the crew, safe in Lord Graystoke's assurance that they would not be prosecuted for their share in the villainies of the two Russians, hastened with cheerful alacrity to their several duties. The beasts, liberated from the confinement of the hold, wandered about the deck, not a little to the discomforture of the crew, in whose minds there remain the still-vivid picture of the savagery of the beast in conflict with those who had gone to their desks beneath the fangs and talons, which even now seemed itching for the soft flesh of further prey. Beneath the watchful eyes of Tarzan and Mugambi, however, Sheeta and the apes of a cut curved their desires, so that the men worked about the deck amongst them in far greater security than they imagined. At last the concaged slipped down the Ugambi and ran out upon the shimmering waters of the Atlantic. Tarzan and Jane Clayton watched the vader clad shore receding in the ship's wake, and for once the eight-man left his native soil without one single pang of regret. No ship that sailed the seven seas could have borne him away from Africa to resume his search for his lost boy, with half the speed that the Englishmen could have desired, and the slow-moving concaged seemed scarce to move at all to the impatient mind of the bereaved father. Yet the vessel may progress even when she seemed to be standing still, and presently the low hills of jungle island became distinctly visible upon the western horizon ahead. In the cabin of Alexander Pulvitch, the thing within the black box ticked, ticked, ticked, with apparently unending monotony. But yet, second by second, a little arm which protruded from the periphery of one of its wheels came nearer and nearer to another little arm, which projected from the hand which Pulvitch had set at a certain point upon the dial beside the clockwork. When these two arms touched one another, the ticking of the mechanism would cease, forever. Jane and Tarzan stood upon the bridge looking out toward jungle island. The men were forward, also watching the land grow upward out of the ocean. The beast had sought the shade of the galley where they were curled up in sleep. All was quiet in peace upon the ship and upon the waters. Suddenly, without warning, the cabin roof shot up into the air, a cloud of dense smoke puffed far above the concaged. There was a terrific explosion which shook the vessel from stem to stern. Instantly, pandemonium broke loose upon the deck. The apes of a cut, terrified by the sound, ran hither and thither, snarling and growling. Sheed elite here and there, screaming out his startled terror and hideous cries that sent the ice of fear straight to the hearts of the concaged crew. Mugambi, too, was trembling. Only Tarzan and the apes and his wife retained their composure. Scarce had the debris settled, then the eight men was among the beast, quieting their fears, talking to them in low, pacific tones, stroking their shaggy bodies and assuring them, as only he could, that the immediate danger was over. An examination of the wreckage showed that their greatest danger now lay in fire, for the flames were licking hungrily at the splintered wood of the wreck cabin, and it already found a foothold upon the lower deck through a great jagged hole which the explosion had opened. By a miracle, no member of the ship's company had been injured by the blast, the origin of which remained forever a total mystery to all but one, the sailor who knew that Povich had been aboard the concaged and in his cabin the previous night. He guessed the truth, but discretion sealed his lips. It would doubtless, fare none too well for the man who had permitted the arch-enemy of them all aboard the ship in the watches of the night, where later he might set an infernal machine to blow them all to kingdom come. No, the man decided that he would keep this knowledge to himself. As the flames gained headway, it became apparent to Tarzan that whatever it caused the explosion had scattered some highly inflammable substance upon the surrounding woodwork, for the water which they poured in from the pump seemed rather to spread than to extinguish the blaze. Fifteen minutes after the explosion, great black clouds of smoke were rising from the hold of the doomed vessel. The flames had reached the engine room and the ship no longer moved toward the shore. Her fate was as certain as though the waters had already closed above her charred and smoking remains. It is useless to remain aboard her longer, remarked the eight-man to his mate. There is no telling, but there may be other explosions, and as we cannot hope to save her, the safest thing which we can do is take the boats without further loss of time and make land. Nor was there any alternative. Only the sailors could bring away any belongings, for the fire which had not yet reached the forecastle had consumed all in the vicinity of the cabin which the explosion had not destroyed. Two boats were lowered, and as there was no sea the landing was made with infinite ease. Eager and anxious, the beast of Tarzan sniffed the familiar air of their native island as the small boats drew in toward the beach, and scarce had their keels graded upon the sand than Sheeta and the apes of a cut were over the bowels and racing swiftly toward the jungle. A half sad smile curled the lips of the eight-man as he watched them go. Good-bye, my friends, he murmured. You have been good and faithful allies, and I shall miss you. They will return, will they not, dear? asked Jane Clayton at his side. They may and they may not, replied the eight-man. They have been ill at ease since they were forced to accept so many human beings into their confidence. Mugambi and I alone affected them less, for he and I are at best, but half human. You, however, and the members of the crew are far too civilized for my beast. It is you whom they are fleeing. Doubtless they feel that they cannot trust themselves in the vicinity of so much perfectly good food without the danger that they may help themselves to a mouthful some time by mistake. Jane laughed. I think they are just trying to escape you, she retorted. You are always making them stop something which they see no reason why they should not do. Like little children they are, doubtless delighted at this opportunity to flee from the zone of parental discipline. If they come back, though, I hope they won't come by night. Or come hungry, eh? laughed Tarzan. For two hours after landing the little party stood watching the burning ship which they had abandoned. Then there came faintly two of them from across the water the sound of a second explosion. The concage settled rapidly almost immediately thereafter and sank within a few minutes. The cause of the second explosion was less a mystery than that of the first, the mate attributing it to the bursting of the boilers when the flames had finally reached them. But what had caused the first explosion was a subject of considerable speculation among the stranded company. End of Chapter 19 The first consideration of the party was to locate fresh water and make camp, for all knew that their term of existence upon Jungle Island might be drawn out to months or even years. Tarzan knew the nearest water, and to this he immediately led the party. Here the men fell to work to construct shelters in rude furniture while Tarzan went into the jungle after meat, leaving the faithful Mugambi and the Missala woman to guard Jane, whose safety he would never trust to any member of the concage's cutthroat crew. Lady Grey Stokes suffered far greater anguish than any of the other castaways, for the blow to her hopes and her already cruelly lacerated mother heart lead not with her own privations, but in the knowledge that she might now never be able to learn the fate of her firstborn, or do ought to discover his whereabouts, or ameliorate his condition, a condition which imagination naturally pictured in the most frightful forms. For two weeks the party divided the time amongst the various duties which have been allotted to each. A daylight watch was maintained from sunrise to sunset upon a bluff near the camp, a jutting shoulder of rock which overlooked the sea. Here, ready for instant lighting, was gathered a huge pile of dry branches, while from a lofty pole which they had set in the ground there floated an improvised distress signal fashioned from a red undershirt which belonged to the mate of the concaid. But never a speck upon the horizon that might be sail or smoke rewarded the tired eyes that in their endless hopeless vigil strained daily out across the vast expanse of ocean. It was Tarzan who suggested, finally, that they attempt to construct a vessel that would bear them back to the mainland. He alone could show them how to fashion rude tools, and when the idea had taken root in the minds of the men, they were eager to commence their labors. But as time went on, and the herculean nature of their task became more and more apparent, they felt a grumbling and quarreling amongst themselves, so that to the other dangers were now added dissension and suspicion. More than ever before did Tarzan now fear to leave Jane among the half-brute to the concaid's crew, but hunting he must do, for none other could so surely go forth in return with meat as he. Sometimes Mugambi spelled him at the hunting, but the black spear and arrows were never so sure of the results as of the rope and knife of the ape man. Finally the men shirked their work, going off into the jungle by twos to explore and to hunt. All this time the camp had seen no sign of Sheeta or a cut in the other great apes, though Tarzan had sometimes met them in the jungle as he hunted. As matters tended from bad to worse in the camp of the castaways upon the east coast of Jungle Island, another camp came into being upon the north coast. Here in a little cove lay a small schooner, the Calry, whose deck had but a few days since run red with the blood of her officers and the loyal members of her crew. For the Calry had fallen upon bad days when it had shipped such men as Gust and Mamoola the Mayory and then Archfiend Kai Shang of Fat Chan. There were others too, ten of them all told, the scum of the South Sea ports. But Gust and Mamoola and Kai Shang were the brains and cunning of the company. It was they who had instigated the mutiny that they might seize and divide the catch of pearls which constituted the wealth of the Calry's cargo. It was Kai Shang who had murdered the captain as he lay asleep in his birth and it had been Mamoola the Mayory who had led the attack upon the officer of the watch. Gust, after his own peculiar habit, had found the means to delegate to the others the actual taking of life. Not that Gust entertained any scruples on the subject, other than those which induced him a rare regard for his own personal safety. There was always a certain element of risk to the assassin. For victims of deadly assault are seldom prone to die quietly and considerably. There was always a certain element of risk to go so far as dispute the issue with the murderer. It was this chance of dispute which Gust preferred the forgo. But now that the work was done the suite aspired to the position of highest command among the mutineers. He had even gone so far as to appropriate and where certain articles belonging to the murder captain of the Calry. Articles of apparel which bore upon them the badges and insignia of authority. Kai Sheng was peeved. He had no love for authority and certainly not the slightest intention of submitting to the domination of an ordinary sweet sailor. The seeds of discontent were therefore already planted in the camp of the mutineers of the Calry at the North Edge of Jungle Island. But Kai Sheng realized that he must act with circumspection. For Gust alone of the Motley Horde possessed sufficient knowledge of navigation to get them out of the South Atlantic and around the Cape to more congenial waters where they might find a market for their ill-gotten wealth and no questions asked. The day before they sighted Jungle Island and discovered the little landlock harbor upon the bosom of which the Calry now rode quietly at anchor. The watch had discovered the smoke and funnels of a warship upon the Southern Horizon. The chance of being spoken to and investigated by a man of war appealed not at all to any of them. So they put into hiding for a few days until a danger should have passed. And now Gust did not wish to venture out to sea again. There was no telling he insisted, but that the ship he had seen was actually searching for them. Kai Sheng pointed out that such could not be the case since it was impossible for any human being other than themselves to have knowledge of what it transpired above the Calry. But Gust was not to be persuaded. In his wicked heart he nursed a scheme whereby he might increase his share of the booty by something like one hundred percent. He alone could sell the Calry. Therefore the others could not leave Jungle Island without him. But what was there to prevent Gust with just efficient men to man the schooner slipping away from Kai Sheng, Mamula the Maori, and some half of the crew when opportunity presented? It was for this opportunity that Gust waited. Someday there would come a moment when Kai Sheng, Mamula, and three or four of the others would be absent from the camp exploring or hunting. The Swede racked his brain for some plan whereby he might successfully lure from the site of the anchored ship those whom he had determined to abandon. To this end he organized hunting party after hunting party but always a double perversity seemed to enter the soul of Kai Sheng so that Wiley Celestial would never hunt except in the company of Gust himself. One day Kai Sheng spoke secretly with Mamula the Maori pouring into the brown ear of his companion the suspicions which he harbour concerning the Swede. Mamula was for going immediately and running a long knife through the heart of the trader. It is true that Kai Sheng had no other evidence in the natural cunning of his own Davis soul but he imagined in the intentions of Gust what he himself would have been glad to accomplish had the means land at hand. But he dared not let Mamula slay the Swede upon whom they depended to guide them to their destination. They decided however that it would do no harm to attempt to frighten Gust into acceding to their demands and with this purpose in mind the Maori sought out the self constituted commander of the party. When he brought to the subject of immediate departure Gust again raised the former objection that the warship might very probably be patrolling the sea directly in their southern path waiting for them to make the attempt to reach other waters. Mamula scoffed at the fears of his fellow pointing out that as no one aboard any warship knew of their mutiny there could be no reason why they should be suspected. Ah! exclaimed Gust. There is where you are wrong. There is where you are lucky that you have an educated man like me to tell you what to do. You are an ignorant savage Mamula and so you know nothing of wireless. The Maori leaped to his feet and laid his hand upon the hilt of his knife. I am no savage, he shouted. I was only joking, the sweet hesitated to explain. We are old friends, Mamula. We cannot afford to quarrel, at least not while old Kai Shang is plotting to steal all the pearls from us. If he could find a man to navigate the cavalry, he would leave us in a minute. All this talk about getting away from here is just because he has some scheme in his head to get rid of us. But the wireless, asked Mamula. What has the wireless to do with our remaining here? Oh yes, replied Gus, scratching his head. He was wondering if the Maori were really so ignorant as to believe the preposterous lie he was about to unload upon him. Oh yes. You see, every warship is equipped with what they call a wireless apparatus. It lets them talk to other ships hundreds of miles away and lets them listen to all that is said on those other ships. Now you see, when you fellows were shooting up the cavalry, you did a whole lot of loud talking and there isn't any doubt, but that that that warship was laying off the south of us listening to all of it. Of course, they may not have learned the name of the ship, but they heard enough to know that the crew of some ship was mutining and killing her officers. So you see, they'll be waiting to search every ship in sight for a long time to come, and they may not be far away now. When he had ceased speaking, the Swedes drove to assume an air of composure that his listener might not have his suspicions aroused as to the truth of the statements that had just been made. Mamula sat for some time in silence, eyeing gust. At last he rose. You are a great liar, said he. If you don't get us on our way by tomorrow, you'll never have another chance to lie. For I heard two of the men saying that they'd like to run a knife into you, and that if you kept them in this hole any longer, they'd do it. Going as Kai shang if there is not a wireless, replied gust, he will tell you that there is such a thing, and that vessels can talk to one another across hundreds of miles of water. Then say to the two men who wish to kill me that if they do so, they will never live to spend their share of the swag, for only I can get you safely to any port. So Momula went to Kai shang, and asked him if there was such an apparatus as a wireless, by means of which ships could talk to each other at great distances, and Kai shang told him that there was. Momula was puzzled, but he still wished to leave the island, and was willing to take his chances upon the open sea, rather than to remain longer in the monotony of the camp. If only we had someone else who could navigate a ship, well Kai Wang. That afternoon, Momula went hunting with two other Maori's. They hunted toward the south, and had not gone far from camp when they were surprised by the sound of voices ahead of them in the jungle. They knew that none of their own men had preceded them, and as all were convinced that the island was uninhabited, they were inclined to flee and tear on the hypothesis that the place was haunted, possibly by the ghost of the murdered officers and men of the cavalry. But Momula was even more curious than he was superstitious, and so he quelled his natural desire to flee from the supernatural. Motioning his companions to follow his example, he dropped to his hands and knees, crawling forward stealthily and with quakings of heart through the jungle in the direction from which came the voices of the unseen speakers. Presently, at the edge of a little clearing, he halted, and there he breathed the deep sigh of relief. For plainly before him he saw two flesh and blood men sitting upon a fallen log and talking earnestly together. One was Schneider, made of the concade, and the other was a seaman named Schmidt. I think we can do it, Schmidt, Schneider was saying. A good canoe wouldn't be hard to build, and three of us could paddle it to the mainland in a day if the wind was right in the sea reasonably calm. There ain't no use waiting for the men to build a big enough boat to take the whole party, for they're sore now and sick of working like slaves all day long. It ain't none of our business anyway to save the Englishman. Let him look out for himself, says I. He paused for a moment, and then, I and the other to note the effect of his next words, he continued. But we might take the woman. It would be a shame to leave a nice looking piece like she is, and such a Schmidt looked up and grinned. So that's how it's blowing, is it? He asked. Why didn't you say so in the first place? What's in it for me if I help you? She ought to pay as well to get her back to civilization, explained Schneider. And I tell you what I'll do. I'll just whack it up with two men that helps me. I'll take half and they can divide the other half. You and whoever the other bloke is. I'm sick of this place, and the sooner I get out of it the better I'll like it. What do you say? Suits me, replied Schmidt. I wouldn't know how to reach the mainland myself, and I know that none of the other fellows would. So as you're the only one that knows anything in navigation, you're the fellow I'll tie to. Mamoul of the Mayor he pricked up his ears. He had a smattering of every language that has spoken upon the seas, and more than a few times he had sailed on English ships, so that he understood fairly well all that had passed between Schneider and Schmidt, since he had stumbled upon them. He rose to his feet and stepped into the clearing. Schneider and his companion started as nervously as though a ghost had risen before them. Schneider reached for his revolver. Mamoul raised his right hand, palm forward, as a sign of his specific intentions. I am a friend, he said. I heard you, but do not fear that I will reveal what you have said. I can help you, and you can help me. He was addressing Schneider. You can navigate a ship, but you have no ship. We have a ship, but no one to navigate it. If you come with us and ask no questions, we will let you take the ship where you will after you have landed us at a certain port, the name of which I will give you later. You can take the woman of whom you speak, and we will ask no questions either. Is it a bargain? Schneider desired more information, and got as much as Mamoul thought best to give him. Then the Mayori suggested that they speak with Kai Shang. The two members of the concave company followed Mamoul and his fellows to a point in the jungle close by the camp of the mutineers. Here Mamoul had them while he went in search of Kai Shang. First at monishing his Mayori companions to stand guard over the two sailors lest they changed their minds in attempt to escape. Schneider and Schmidt were virtually prisoners, though they did not know it. Presently Mamoul returned with Kai Shang to whom he had briefly narrated the details of the stroke of good fortune that had come to them. The Chinaman spoke at length with Schneider until notwithstanding his natural suspicion of the sincerity of all men, he became quite convinced that Schneider was quite as much a rogue as himself, and that the fellow was anxious to leave the island. These two premises accepted. There could be little doubt that Schneider would prove trustworthy insofar as accepting the command of the cavalry was concerned. After that, Kai Shang knew that he could find means to coerce the man into submission to his further wishes. When Schneider and Schmidt left them and set out in the direction of their own camp, it was with feelings of far greater relief than they had experienced in many a day. Now at last, they saw a feasible plan for leaving the island upon a seaworthy craft. There would be no more hard labor at shipbuilding and no risking their lives upon a crudely built makeshift that would be quite as likely to go to the bottom as it would to reach the mainland. Also, they were to have assistance in capturing the woman. Or rather, women. For when Mimula had learned that there was a black woman in the other camp, he had insisted that she be brought along as well as the white woman. As Kai Shang and Mimula entered their camp, it was with the realization that they no longer needed gust. They marched straight to the tent in which they might expect to find him at that hour of the day. For though it would have been more comfortable for the entire party to remain aboard the ship, they had mutually decided that it would be safer for all concerned were they to pitch their camp ashore. Each knew that in the heart of the others was sufficient treachery to make it unsafe for any member of the party to go ashore leaving the others in position of the calorie. So, not more than two or three men at a time were ever permitted aboard the vessel unless all the balance of the company was there too. As the two crossed toward gust's tent, the majority felt the edge of his long knife with one grimy callous thumb. The Swede would have felt far from comfortable could he have seen this significant action or read what was passing amid the convolutions of the brown man's cruel brain. Now it happened that gust was at that moment in the tent occupied by the cook, and this tent stood but a few feet from his own. So that he heard the approach of Kai Shang and Mamula, though he did not, of course, dream that it had any special significance for him. Chance had it, though, that he glanced out of the doorway of the cook's tent at the very moment that Kai Shang and Mamula approached the entrance to his, and he thought that he noted a stealthiness in their movements that comported poorly with amicabola-friendly intentions. And then, just as they too slunk within the interior, gust caught a glimpse of the long knife which Mamula the Mayori was then carrying behind his back. The sweet eyes opened wide, and a funny little sensation assailed the roots of his hairs. Also, he turned almost white beneath his tan. Quite precipitately he left the cook's tent. He was not one who required a detailed exposition of intentions that were quite all too obvious. As surely as though he had heard them plotting, he knew that Kai Shang and Mamula had come to take his life. The knowledge that he alone could navigate the cow he had, up till now, been sufficient assurance of his safety. But, quite evidently, something had occurred of which he had no knowledge that would make it quite worth the while of his co-conspirators to eliminate him. Without a pause gust darted across the beach and into the jungle. He was afraid of the jungle. Uncanny noises that were indeed frightful came forth from its recesses. The tangled mazes of the mysterious country back of the beach. But if gust was afraid of the jungle, he was far more afraid of Kai Shang and Mamula. The dangers of the jungle were more or less problematical, while the danger that menaced him at the hands of his companions was a perfectly well-known quantity, which might be expressed in terms of a few inches of cold steel, or the coil of a light rope. He had seen Kai Shang garret a man at Pai Shai in a dark alleyway in back of Luikata's place. He feared the rope, therefore, more than he did the knife of the Maori. But he feared them both too much to remain within their reach of either. Therefore he chose the pitiless jungle. CHAPTER XXI. THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE In Tarzan's camp, by dent of threats and promised rewards the eight-man had finally succeeded in getting the haul of a large skiff almost completed. Much of the work he and Mugami had done with their own hands in addition to furnishing the camp with meat. Schneider, the mate, had been doing considerable grumbling, and had at last openly deserted the work and gone off into the jungle with Schmidt to hunt. He said that he wanted to rest, and Tarzan, rather than add to the unpleasantness which already made camp life almost unendurable, had permitted the two men to depart without a remonstrance. Upon the following day, however, Schneider affected a feeling of remorse for his action, and set to work with a will upon the skiff. Schmidt also worked good-naturedly, and Lord Greystote congratulated himself that at last the men had awakened to the necessity for labor, which was being asked of them and to their obligations to the balance of the party. It was with a feeling of greater relief than he had experienced for many a day, that he set out that noon to hunt deep in the jungle for a herd of small deer which Schneider reported that he and Schmidt had seen there the day before. The direction in which Schneider had reported seeing the deer was toward the southwest, and to that point the eight men swung easily through the tangle verdure of the forest. And as he went, there approached from the north a half-dozen ill-featured men who went stealthily through the jungle as go men bent upon the commission of a wicked act. They thought that they traveled unseen, but behind them, almost from the moment they quitted their own camp, a tall man crept upon their trail. In the man's eyes were hate and fear, and a great curiosity. Why went Kai Shang and Mamula, and the others thus stealthily toward the south? What did they expect to find there? Gus shook his low-browed head in perplexity, but he would know. He would follow them and learn their plans, and then if he could thwart them he would. That went without question. At first he thought that they searched for him, but finally his better judgment assured him that such could not be the case, since they had accomplished all they really desired by chasing him out of camp. Never would Kai Shang or Mamula go to such pains to slay him or another unless it would put money into their pockets. And as Gus had no money, it was evident that they were searching for someone else. Presently the party he trailed came to a halt. Its members concealed themselves in the foliage boarding the game trail along which they had come. Gus, that he might to better observe, clambered onto the branches of a tree to the rear of them, being careful that the leafy fronds hid him from the view of his erstwhile mates. He had not long to wait before he saw a strange white man approach carefully along the trail from the south. At sight of the newcomer, Mamula and Kai Shang arose from their places of concealment and greeted him. Gus could not overhear what passed between them. Then the man returned in the direction from which he had come. He was Schneider, nearing his camp he circled to the opposite side of it, and presently came running in breathlessly. Excited, he hastened to Mugambi. Quick, he cried, those apes of yours have caught Schmidt and will kill him if we do not hasten to his aid. You alone can call them off. Take Jones and Sullivan, you may need help, and get to him as quick as you can. Follow the game trail south for about a mile. I will remain here. I am too spent with running to go back with you. And the mate of the concave threw himself upon the ground, panting as though he was almost done for. Mugambi hesitated. He had been left to guard the two women. He did not know what to do. And then Jane Clayton, who had heard Schneider's story, added her pleas to those of the mate. Do not delay, she urged. We shall be right here. Mr. Schneider will remain with us. Go, Mugambi. The poor fellow must be saved. Schmidt, who lay hidden in a bush on the edge of the camp, grinned. Mugambi, heeding the commands of his mistress, though still doubtful of the wisdom of his action, started off towards the south with Jones and Sullivan at his heels. No sooner had he disappeared than Schmidt rose and darted north into the jungle, and a few minutes later the face of Kaisheng of Fat Chan appeared at the edge of the clearing. Schneider saw the gentleman and motioned to him that the coast was clear. Jane Clayton and the Missoula woman were sitting at the opening of the former's tent. They're backs towards the approaching Ruffians. The first intimation that either had of the presence of strangers in camp was the sudden appearance of a half-dozen ragged villains about them. Come, said Kaisheng, motioning that the two arise and follow him. Jane Clayton sprang to her feet and looked about for Schneider, only to see him standing behind the newcomers, a grin upon his face. At his side stood Schmidt. Instantly she saw that she had been made the victim of a plot. What is the meaning of this, she asked, addressing the mate? It means that we have found the ship and we can now escape from Juggle Island, replied the man. Why did you send Megami and the others into the jungle, she inquired? They are not coming with us, only you and I and the Missoula woman. Come, repeated Kaisheng, and seized Jane Clayton's wrist. One of the Mayories grasped the Black woman by the arm and when she would have screamed struck her across the mouth. Megami raced through the jungle toward the south. Jones and Sullivan trailed far behind. For a mile he continued upon his way to the relief of Schmidt but no sign saw he of the missing man or of any of the apes of a cut. At last he halted and called aloud the summons which he and Tarzan had used to hail the great Anthropoids. There was no response. Jones and Sullivan came up with the Black warrior as the latter stood voicing his weird call. For another half mile the Black searched, calling occasionally. Finally the truth flashed upon him and then, like a frightened deer, he wheeled and dashed back toward camp. Arriving there it was but a moment before full confirmation of his fears was impressed upon him. Lady Grace Doke and the Missoula woman were gone. So likewise was Schneider. When Jones and Sullivan joined Megami he would have killed them in his anger, thinking them parties to the plot. But they finally succeeded in partially convincing him that they had known nothing of it. As they stood speculating upon the probable whereabouts of the women and their abductor and the purposes which Schneider had in mind and taking them from the camp, Tarzan of the apes swung from the branches of a tree and crossed the clearing toward them. His keen eyes detected at once that something was radically wrong and when he had heard Megami's story his jaws clicked angrily together as he knitted his brows and thought. What could the maid hope to accomplish by taking Jane Clayton from a camp upon a small island from which there was no escape from the vengeance of Tarzan? The eight man could not believe the fellow such a fool and then a slight realization of the truth dawned upon him. Schneider would not have committed such an act unless he had been reasonably sure that there was a way by which he could quit Jungle Island with his prisoners. But why had he taken the black woman as well? There must have been others one of whom wanted the dusky female. Come, said Tarzan, there is but one thing to do now and that is to follow the trail. As he finished speaking a tall ungainly figure emerged from the jungle north of the camp. He came straight toward the four men. He was an entire stranger to all of them, not one of whom had dreamed that another human being than those in their own camp dwelt upon the unfriendly shores of Jungle Island. It was gust. He came directly to the point. Your women were stolen, he said. If you ever want to see them again, come quickly and follow me. If we do not hurry, the cavalry will be standing out to see by the time we reach her anchorage. Who are you? asked Tarzan. What do you know of the theft of my wife and the black woman? I heard Kai Shang and Mamoul of the Mayori plot with two men of your camp. They had chased me from our camp and would have killed me. Now I will get even with them. Come. Gust led the four men of the concage's camp at a rapid trot through the jungle toward the north. Would they come to the sea in time? But a few more minutes would answer the question. And when at last the little party did break through the last of the screening foliage and the harbor in the ocean lay before them, they realized that fate had been most cruelly unkind. For the cavalry was already under sail and moving slowly out of the mouth of the harbor into the open sea. What were they to do? Tarzan's broadchast rose and fell with the force of his pent-emotions. The last blow seemed to have fallen. And if ever in all his life Tarzan of the apes had occasion to abandon hope, it was now that he saw the ship bearing his wife to some frightful fate moving gracefully over the rippling water, so very near and yet so hideously far away. In silence he stood watching the vessel. He saw it turn toward the east and finally disappear around the headland on its way he knew not wither. Then he dropped upon his haunches and buried his face in his hands. It was after dark that the five men returned to the camp on the east shore. The night was hot and sultry. No slightest breeze ruffled the foliage of the trees or rippled the mere-like surface of the ocean. Only a gentle swell rolled softly in upon the beach. Never had Tarzan seen the Great Atlantic so ominously at peace. He was standing at the edge of the beach gazing out to sea in the direction of the mainland. His mind filled with sorrow and hopelessness. When from the jungle close behind the camp came the uncanny wail of a panther. There was a familiar note in the weird cry and almost mechanically Tarzan turned his head and answered. A moment later the tawny figure of Sheeta slunk out into the half-light of the beach. There was no moon, but the sky was brilliant with stars. Silently the savage brute came to the side of the man. It had been long since Tarzan had seen his old fighting companion, but the soft purr was sufficient to assure him that the animals still recalled the bonds which had united them in the past. The eight-man lettuce fingers fall upon the beast's coat, and as Sheeta pressed close against his leg he caressed and finaled a wicked head while his eyes continued to search the blackness of the waters. Presently he started what was that? He strained his eyes into the night. Then he turned and called aloud to the men smoking upon their blankets in the camp. They came running to his side, but Gus hesitated when he saw the nature of Tarzan's companion. Look, cried Tarzan, a light, a ship's light. It must be the cavalry. They are becalmed. And then with an explanation of renewed hope we can reach them. The skiff will carry us easily. Gus demurred. They are well armed, he warned. We could not just take the ship, just five of us. There are six now, replied Tarzan, pointing to Sheeta. And we can have more still in a half hour. Sheeta is the equivalent of 20 men. And the few others I can bring will add a full hundred to our fighting strength. You do not know them. The eight man turned and raised his head toward the jungle, while their peel from his lips time after time the fearsome cry of the bull ape who would summon his fellows. Presently from the jungle came an answering cry and then another and another. Gus shuddered. Among what sort of creatures had fate thrown him? Were not Kai, Shang, and Mimula to be preferred to this great white giant who stroked a panther and called to the beast of the jungle? In a few minutes the apes of a cut came crashing through the underbrush and out upon the beach. While in the meantime the five men had been struggling with the unwieldy bulk of the skiffs hull. By dent of herculean efforts they had managed to get it to the water's edge. The oars from the two small boats of the concaid, which had been washed away by an offshore wind the very night that the party had landed, had been in use to support the canvas of the sail-cloth tents. These were hastily requisition, and by the time a cut in his followers came down to the water all was ready for embarkation. Once again the hideous crew entered the service of their master, and without question took up their places in the skiff. The four men, for Gus could not be prevailed upon to accompany the party, fell to the oars, using them paddle-wise while some of the apes followed their example and presently the ungainly stiff was moving quietly out to sea, in the direction of the light which rose and fell gently with the swell. A sleepy sailor kept the poor vigil upon the Calry's deck, while in the cabin below Schneider paced up and down arguing with Jane Clayton. The woman had found a revolver and a table drawer in the room in which she had been locked, and now she kept the maid of the concade at bay with the weapon. The Missoula woman kneeled behind her while Schneider paced up and down before the door, threatening and pleading and promising, but all to no avail. Presently from the deck above came a shout of warning and a shot. For an instant Jane Clayton relaxed her vigilance and turned her eyes towards the cabin skylight. Simultaneously Schneider was upon her. The first intimation the watch had that there was a craft within a thousand miles of the Calry came when he saw the head and shoulders of a man poked over the ship's side. Instantly the fellow sprang to his feet with a cry and leveled his revolver at the intruder. It was his cry in the subsequent report of the revolver which threw Jane Clayton off her guard. Upon the deck the quiet of fancy security soon gave place to the wildest pandemonium. The crew of the Calry rushed above armed with revolvers, cutlasses, and the long knives that many of them habitually wore, but the alarm had come too late. Already the beast of Tarzan were upon the ship's deck, with Tarzan of the two men of the concaged crew. In the face of the frightful beast the courage of the mutineers wavered and broke. Those with revolvers fired a few scattering shots and then raced for someplace of supposed safety. Into the shrouds went some, but the apes of a cut were more at home there than they. Screaming with terror the Majoris were dragged from their lofty perches. The beast, uncontrolled by Tarzan who had gone in search of Jane, loosed their full fury of their savage natures upon the unhappy wretches who fell into their clutches. Shida, in the meantime, had felt his great fangs sink into but a singular jugular. For a moment he mauled the corpse and then he spied Kai Shang darting down the companionway toward his cabin. With a shrill scream Shida was after him. A scream which awoken almost equally uncanny cry in the throat of the terror stricken Chinaman. But Kai Shang reached his cabin a fraction of a second ahead of the panther and leaping within slammed the door just too late. Shida's great body hurled against him before the catch engaged and a moment later Kai Shang was gibbering and shrieking in the back of an upper berth. Lightly Shida sprang after his victim and presently the wicked days of Kai Shang of Fachan were ended and Shida was gorging himself upon tough and stringy flesh. A moment scarcely had a laugh after Schneider leaped upon Jane Clayton and rins the revolver from her hand when the door of the cabin opened in a tall half-naked white man stood framed within the portal. Silently he leaped across the cabin. Schneider felt singly fingers at his throat. He turned his head to see who had attacked him and his eyes went wide when he saw the face of the eight man close above his own. Grimly the fingers tightened upon the mate's throat. He tried to screen to plead but no sound came forth. His eyes protruded as he struggled for freedom, for breath, for life. Jane Clayton seized her husband's hands and tried to drag them from the throat of the dying man. But Tarzan only shook his head. Not again, he said quietly, before I had permitted scoundrels to live only to suffer and have you suffer for my mercy. This time we shall make sure of one scoundrel, sure that he will never again harm us or another. And with a sudden wrench he twisted the neck of the perfidious mate until there was a sharp crack. And the man's body lay limp and motionless in the eight man's grasp. With a gesture of disgust Tarzan tossed the corpse aside. Then he returned to the deck followed by Jane and the Missala woman. The battle there was over. Schmidt and Mamula and two others alone remained alive of the company of the Calry for they had found sanctuary in the Forecastle. The others had died horribly and as they deserved beneath the fangs and talons of the beast of Tarzan. And in the morning sun rose a grizzly sight upon the deck of the unhappy Calry. But this time the blood which stained her white planking was the blood of the guilty and not of the innocent. Tarzan brought forth men who had hidden in the Forecastle and without promise of immunity from punishment forced them to help work the vessel. The only alternative was immediate death. A stiff breeze had risen with the sun and with canvas spread the Calry had set in towards jungle island where a few hours later Tarzan picked up gust and bid farewell to Sheeta and the apes of a cut. For here he set the beast ashore to pursue the wild and natural life they love so well. Nor did they lose a moment's time and disappear into the cool depths of their beloved jungle. That they knew that Tarzan was to leave them may be doubted except possibly in the case of the more intelligent a cut who alone of all the others remained upon the beach as the small boat drew away towards the schooner carrying his savage lord and master from him. As long as their eyes could span the distance Jane and Tarzan standing upon the deck saw the lonely figure of the shaggy antherpoid motionless upon the surf beaten sands of jungle island. It was three days later that the Calry fell in with his majesty's sloop of war shore water. Through whose wireless Lord Grey Stoke soon got in communication with London. Thus he learned that which filled his and his wife's heart with joy and thanksgiving. Little Jack was safe at Lord Grey Stoke's townhouse. It was not until they reached London that they learned the details of the remarkable chain of circumstances that it preserved the infant unharmed. It developed that Rokoff fearing to take the child aboard the concaved by day had hidden it in a low den where nameless infants were harbored intending to carry it to the steamer after dark. His confederate and chief Lieutenant Paul Vige true to the long years of teaching of his wily master had at last succumbed to the treachery and greed that it always marked his superior and, lured by the thoughts of the immediate ransom he might win by returning the child unharmed, had divulged the secret of its parentage to the woman who maintained the foundling asylum. Through her he had arranged for the substitution of another infant, knowing full well that never until it was too late would Rokoff suspect the trick that had been played upon him. The woman had promised to keep the child until Paul Vige returned to England, but she in turn have been tempted to betray her trust by the lure of Gold. And so had opened negotiations with Lord Greystoke's solicitors for the return of the child. Esmeralda, the old Negro nurse whose absence on a vacation in America at the time of the abduction of little Jack had been attributed by her as a cause of the calamity, had returned and positively identified the infant. The ransom had been paid, and within 10 days of the date of his kidnapping the future Lord Greystoke, none the worse for his experience, had been returned to his father's home. And so, that last and greatest of Nicholas Rokoff's many rescalities had not only miserably miscarried through the treachery he had taught his only friend, but it had resulted in the archvillain's death, and given to Lord and Lady Greystoke a peace of mind that neither could have felt so long as the vital spark remained in the body of the Russian, and his maligned mind was free to formulate new atrocities against them. Rokoff was dead, and while the fate of Paulvich was unknown they had every reason to believe that he had succumbed to the dangers of the jungle where they had last seen him, the malicious tool of his master. And thus, insofar as they might know, they were to be freed forever from the menace of these two men. The only enemies which Tarzan of the Apes had ever had occasion to fear, because they struck at him cowardly blows, through those he loved. It was a happy family party that were reunited in Greystoke House the day Lord Greystoke and his lady landed upon English soil from the deck of the shore water. Accompanying them were Mugambi, and the Missala woman he had found in the bottom of the canoe that night upon the bank of the little tributary of the Ugambi. The woman had preferred to cling to her new Lord and master rather than return to the marriage she had tried to escape. Tarzan had promised them they might find a home on his vast African estates in the land of the Waziri where they were to be sent as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Possibly we shall see them all there amid the savage romance of the grim jungle and the great plains where Tarzan of the Apes loves best to be. Who knows? End of Chapter 21 End of The Beast of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs This recording by James Christopher in Phoenix, Arizona May 2008