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Well, we’ve had good news and bad news. The good news is that Tarzan is hot on the heels of finding his wife, baby, and Nikolas Rokoff, the personification of pure evil. We have seen him work the Devil’s Luck to all kinds of unwholesome ends, yet he never quite achieves complete satisfaction. Tarzan has botched every attempt Rokoff has made on his life, but the bad news is that Jane and her child are now in the hands of Rokoff. Will he attain satisfaction at last in his revenge against the helpless mother and babe? Let us see.ERB loved to have his characters dwell on the worst things the mind might conjure in any situation. His characters tend to think a lot in the most morbid ways, but when you think about it, that’s the way of human nature.
Tarzan scooped a shallow grave for the Kincaid’s cook, beneath whose repulsive exterior had beaten the heart of a chivalrous gentleman. That was all he could do in the cruel jungle for the man who had given his life in the service of his little son and his wife.
Then Tarzan took up again the pursuit of Rokoff. Now that he was positive that the woman ahead of him was indeed Jane, and that she had again fallen into the hands of the Russian, it seemed with all the incredible speed of his fleet and agile muscles he moved at but a snail’s pace.
It was with difficulty that he kept the trail, for there were many paths through the jungle at this point – crossing and crisscrossing, forking and branching in all directions, and over them all had passed natives innumerable, coming and going. The spoor of the white man was obliterated by that of the native carriers who had followed them, and over all was the spoor of other natives and of wild beasts.
It was most perplexing; yet Tarzan kept on assiduously, checking his sense of sight against his sense of smell, that he might more surely keep to the right trail. But, with all his care, night found him at a point where he was positive that he was on the wrong trail entirely.
He knew that the pack would follow his spoor, and so he had been careful to make it as distinct as possible, brushing often against the vines and creepers that walled the jungle-path, and in other ways leaving his scent-spoor plainly discernible.
As darkness settled a heavy rain set in, and there was nothing for the baffled ape-man to do but wait in the partial shelter of a huge tree until morning; but the coming of dawn brought no cessation of the torrential downpour.
For a week the sun was obscured by heavy clouds, while violent rain and wind storms obliterated the last remnants of the spoor Tarzan constantly though vainly sought.
During all this time he saw no signs of natives, nor of his own pack, the members of which he feared had lost his trail during the terrific storm. As the country was strange to him, he had been unable to judge his course accurately, since he had neither sun by day nor moon nor stars by night to guide him.
When the sun at last broke through the clouds in the forenoon of the seventh day, it looked down upon an almost frantic ape-man.
For the first time in his life, Tarzan of the Apes had been lost in the jungle. That the experience should have befallen him at such a time seemed cruel beyond expression. Somewhere in this savage land his wife and son lay in the clutches of the arch-fiend Rokoff.
What hideous trials might they not have undergone during those seven awful days that nature had thwarted him in his endeavors to locate them? Tarzan knew the Russian, in whose power they were, so well that he could not doubt but that the man, filled with rage that Jane had once escaped him, and knowing that Tarzan might be close upon his trail, would wreak without further loss of time whatever vengeance his polluted mind might be able to conceive.But now that the sun shone once more, the ape-man was still at a loss as to what direction to take. He knew that Rokoff had left the river in pursuit of Anderssen, but whether he would continue inland or return to the Ugambi was a question.Why is it that after all this time and experience, Tarzan does not expect a trap? The last time he spent the night in a cannibal camp, they bound him once he was sound asleep. This tribe is even worse and much more suspicious, yet Tarzan seems oblivious to it all.
The ape-man had seen that the river at the point he had left it was growing narrow and swift, so that he judged that it could not be navigable even for canoes to any great distance farther toward its source. However, if Rokoff had not returned to the river, in what direction had he proceeded?
From the direction of Anderssen’s flight with Jane and the child Tarzan was convinced that the man had purposed attempting the tremendous feat of crossing the continent to Zanzibar; but whether Rokoff would dare so dangerous a journey or not was a question.
Fear might drive him to the attempt now that he knew the manner of the horrible pack that was upon his trail, and that Tarzan of the Apes was following him to wreak upon him the vengeance that he deserved.
At last the ape-man determined to continue toward the northeast in the general direction of German East Africa until he came upon natives from whom he might gain information as to Rokoff’s whereabouts.
The second day following the cessation of the rain he came upon a native village the inhabitants of which fled into the bush the instant their eyes fell upon him. Tarzan, not to be thwarted in any such manner as this, pursued them, and after a brief chase caught up with a young warrior. The fellow was so badly frightened that he was unable to defend himself, dropping his weapons and falling upon the ground, wide-eyed and screaming as he gazed on his captor.
It was with considerable difficulty that the ape-man quieted the fellow’s fears sufficiently to obtain a coherent statement from him as to the cause of his uncalled-for terror.
From him Tarzan learned, by dint of much coaxing, that a party of whites had passed through the village several days before. These men had told him of a terrible white devil that pursued them, warning the natives against it and the frightful pack of demons that accompanied it.
The black had recognized Tarzan as the white devil from the descriptions given by the whites and their black servants. Behind him he had expected to see a horde of demons disguised as apes and panthers.
In this Tarzan saw the cunning hand of Rokoff. The Russian was attempting to make travel as difficult as possible for him by turning the natives against him in superstitious fear.
The native further told Tarzan that the white man who had led the recent expedition had promised them a fabulous reward if they would kill the white devil. This they had fully intended doing should the opportunity present itself; but the moment they had seen Tarzan their blood had turned to water, as the porters of the white men had told them would be the case.
Finding the ape-man made no attempt to harm him, the native at last recovered his grasp upon his courage, and, at Tarzan’s suggestion, accompanied the white devil back to the village, calling as he went for his fellows to return also, as “the white devil has promised to do you no harm if you come back right away and answer his questions.”
One by one the blacks straggled into the village, but that their fears were not entirely allayed was evident from the amount of white that showed about the eyes of the majority of them as they cast constant and apprehensive sidelong glances at the ape-man.
The chief was among the first to return to the village, and as it was he that Tarzan was most anxious to interview, he lost no time in entering into a palaver with the black.
The fellow was short and stout, with an unusually low and degraded countenance and apelike arms. His whole expression denoted deceitfulness.
Only the superstitious terror engendered in him by the stories poured into his ears by the whites and blacks of the Russian’s party kept him from leaping upon Tarzan with his warriors and slaying him forthwith, for he and his people were inveterate maneaters. But the fear that he might indeed be a devil, and that out there in the jungle behind him his fierce demons waited to his bidding, kept M’ganwazam from putting desires into action.
Tarzan questioned the fellow closely, and by comparing his statements with those of the young warrior he had first talked with he learned that Rokoff and his safari were in terror-stricken retreat in the direction of the far East Coast.
Many of the Russian’s porters had already deserted him. In that very village he had hanged five for theft and attempted desertion. Judging, however, from what the Waganwazam had learned from those of the Russian’s blacks who were not too far gone in terror of the brutal Rokoff to fear even to speak of their plans, it was apparent that he would not travel any great distance before the last of his porters, cooks, tent-boys, gun-bearers, askari, and even the headman, would have turned back into the bush, leaving him to the mercy of the merciless jungle.
M’ganwazam denied that there had been any white woman or child with the party of whites; but even as he spoke Tarzan was convinced that he lied. Several times the ape-man approached the subject from different angles, but never was he successful in surprising the wily cannibal into a direct contradiction of his original statement that there had been no women or children with the party.
Tarzan demanded food of the chief, and after considerable haggling on the part of the monarch succeeded in obtaining a meal. He then tried to draw out others of the tribe, especially the young man whom he had captured in the bush, but M’ganwazam’s presence sealed their lips.
At last, convinced that these people knew a great deal more than they had told him concerning the whereabouts of the Russian and the fate of Jane and the child, Tarzan determined to remain overnight among them in the hope of discovering something further of importance.
When he had stated his decision to the chief he was rather surprised to note the sudden change in the fellow’s attitude toward him. From apparent dislike and suspicion M’ganwazam became a most eager and solicitous host.Nothing would do but that the ape-man should occupy the best hut in the village, from which M’ganwazam’s oldest wife was forthwith summarily ejected, while the chief took up his temporary abode in the hut of one of his younger consorts.In the next chapter we return to that moment that Sven and Jane wake up in the friendly native village near the mouth of the Ugambi, and Jane for the first time looks upon the babe’s face – and freaks out! Just what is it about this baby, who obviously dies of the fever? See you next time.
Had Tarzan chanced to recall the fact that a princely reward had been offered the blacks if they should succeed in killing him, he might have more quickly interpreted M’ganwazam’s sudden change in front.
To have the white giant sleeping peacefully in one of his own huts would greatly facilitate the matter of earning the reward, and so the chief was urgent in his suggestions that Tarzan, doubtless being very much fatigued after his travels, should retire early to the comforts of the anything but inviting palace.
As much as the ape-man detested the thought of sleeping within a native hut, he had determined to do so this night, on the chance that he might be able to induce one of the younger men to sit and chat with him before the fire that burned in the center of the smoke-filled dwelling, and from him draw the truths he sought. So Tarzan accepted the invitation of old M’ganwazam, insisting, however, that he much preferred sharing a hut with some of the younger men rather than driving the chief’s old wife out in the cold.
The toothless old hag grinned her appreciation of this suggestion, and as the plan still better suited the chief’s scheme, in that it would permit him to surround Tarzan with a gang of picked assassins, he readily assented, so that presently Tarzan had been installed in a hut close to the village gate.
As there was to be a dance that night in honor of a band of recently returned hunters, Tarzan was left alone in the hut, the young men, as M’ganwazam explained, having to take part in the festivities.
As soon as the ape-man was safely installed in the trap, M’ganwazam called about him the young warriors whom he had selected to spend the night with the white devil.
None of them were overly enthusiastic about the plan, since deep in their superstitious hearts lay an exaggerated fear of the strange white giant; but the word of M’ganwazam was law among his people, so not one dared refuse the duty he was called upon to perform.
As M’ganwazam unfolded his plan in whispers to the savages squatting about him the old, toothless hag, to whom Tarzan had saved her hut for the night, hovered about the conspirators ostensibly to replenish the supply of firewood for the blaze about which the men sat, but really to drink in as much of their conversation as possible.
Tarzan has slept for perhaps an hour or two despite the savage din of the revellers when his keen senses came suddenly to alert to a suspiciously stealthy movement in the hut in which he lay. The fire had died down to a little heap of glowing embers, which accentuated rather than relieved the darkness that shrouded the interior of the evil-smelling dwelling, yet the trained senses of the ape-man warned him of another presence creeping almost silently toward him through the gloom.
He doubted that it was one of his hut mates returning from the festivities, for he still heard the wild cries of the dancers and the din of the tom-toms in the village street without. Who could it be that took such pains to conceal his approach?
As the presence came within reach of him the ape-man bounded lightly to the opposite side of the hut, his spear poised ready at his side.
“Who is it?” he asked, “that creeps upon Tarzan of the Apes, like a hungry lion out of the darkness?”
“Silence, bwana!” replied an old cracked voice. “It is Tambudza – she whose hut you would not take, and thus drive an old woman out into the cold night.”
“What does Tambudza want of Tarzan of the Apes?” asked the ape-man.
“You were kind to me to whom none is now kind, and I have come to warn you in payment of your kindness,” answered the old hag.
“Warn me of what?”
“M’ganwazam has chosen the young men who are to sleep in the hut with you,” replied Tambudza. “I was near as he talked with them, and heard him issuing his instructions to them. When the dance is run well into the morning they are to come to the hut.
“If you are awake they are to pretend that they have come to sleep, but if you sleep it is M’ganwazam’s command that you be killed. If you are not then asleep they will wait quietly beside you until you do sleep, and then they will all fall upon you together and slay you. M’ganwazam is determined to win the reward the white man has offered.”
“I had forgotten the reward,” said Tarzan, half to himself, and then he added, “How may M’ganwazam hope to collect the reward now that the white men who are my enemies have left his country and gone he knows not where?”
“Oh, they have not gone far,” replied Tambudza. “M’ganwazam knows where they camp. His runners would quickly overtake them – they move slowly.”
“Where are they?” asked Tarzan.
“Do you wish to come to them?” asked Tambudza in way of reply.
“I cannot tell you where they lie so that you could come to the place yourself, but I could lead you to them, bwana.”
In their interest in the conversation neither of the speakers had noticed the little figure which crept into the darkness of the hut behind them, nor did they see it when it slunk noiselessly out again.
It was little Buulaoo, the chief’s son by one of his younger wives – a vindictive, degenerate little rascal who hated Tambudza, and was ever seeking opportunities to spy upon her and report her slightest breach of custom to his father.
“Come, then,” said Tarzan quickly, “let us be on our way.”
This Buulaoo did not hear, for he was already legging it up the village street to where his hideous sire guzzled native beer, and watched the evolutions of the frantic dancers leaping high in the air and cavorting wildly in their hysterical capers.
So it happened as Tarzan and Tambudza sneaked warily from the village and melted into the Stygian darkness of the jungle two lithe runners took their way in the same direction, though by another trail.
When they had come sufficiently far from the village to make it safe for them to speak above a whisper, Tarzan asked the old woman if she had seen aught of a white woman and a little child.
“Yes, bwana,” replied Tambudza, “there was a woman with them and a little child – a little white piccaninny. It died here in our village of the fever and they buried it.”