Official Edgar Rice Burroughs Tribute Weekly Webzine Site
Since 1996 ~ 10,000 Web Pages In Archive
Woodrow Edgar Nichols, Jr.
Paulvitch’s plot to blow-up the Kincaid had partial success in that he ended up sinking her, but failed to kill anyone – a failed vengeance. We left him cowering in the African jungle, but don’t worry, in the immortal words of the Terminator, he’ll be back. As for the occupants of the ill-fated tramp steamer, they are now all stranded on Jungle Island. The good thing is that Sheeta and the apes of Akut got a well-deserved homecoming.So at last we discover what happened to the native black girl runaway bride. It seems that Mugambi has taken her under his protective wing. She is obviously with Mugambi as a couple since she herself would not be much of a protector to Jane, and it is doubtful if she would be safe alone with any of the cut-throat crew.
XX: Jungle Island Again
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 for 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 shelter and rude furniture while Tarzan went into the jungle after meat, leaving the faithful Mugambi and the Mosula woman to guard Jane, whose safety he would never trust to any member of the Kincaid’s cut-throat crew.Lady Greystoke suffered far greater anguish than any other of the castaways, for the blow to her hopes and her already cruelly lacerated mother-heart lay not in her own privations but in the knowledge that she might now never be able to learn the fate of her first-born or do aught to discover his whereabouts, or ameliorate his condition – a condition which imagination naturally pictured in the most frightful forms.Didn’t they have two row boats from the Kincaid already at their disposal? ERB will clear this up eventually, don’t worry. This is what happens when you speed write.
For two weeks the party divided the time amongst the various duties which had 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 Kincaid.
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 fell to grumbling, and to quarrelling among themselves, so that to the other dangers were now added dissension and suspicion.I must admit I was puzzled by ERB’s use of the term “spelled” in this context. I finally found the definition in my dictionary as a transitional verb, meaning “to relieve (someone) from work temporarily by taking a turn.” Well, that’s a new word for me again, but I guess you already knew that.
More than before did Tarzan now to fear to leave Jane among the half brutes of the Kincaid’s crew; but hunting he must do, for none other could so surely go forth and return with meat as he. Sometimes Mugambi spelled him at the hunting; but the black’s spear and arrows were never so sure of results as 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 had no sight of Sheeta, or Akut and the other great apes, though Tarzan had sometimes met them in the jungle as he hunted.Isn’t it nice to know that someone else has the Devil’s Luck besides Rokoff? Do you think it will run out in the end, like it did for Rokoff? Of course, it’s hard to root for anyone in such a bunch of rotten apples.
And 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 Cowrie, whose decks had but a few days since run red with the blood of her officers and the loyal members of her crew, for the Cowrie had fallen upon bad days when it had shipped such men as Gust and Momulla the Maori and that arch-fiend Kai Shang of Fachan.
There were others, too, ten of them all told, the scum of the South Sea ports; but Gust and Momulla 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 Cowrie’s cargo.
It was Kai Shang who had murdered the captain as he lay asleep in his berth, and it had been Momulla the Maori who had led the attack upon the officer of the watch.
Gust, after his own peculiar habit, had found 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 in him a rare regard for his own personal safety. There is always a certain element of risk to the assassin, for victims of deadly assault are seldom prone to go so far as to dispute the issue with the murderer. It was this chance of dispute which Gust preferred to forgo.
But now that the work was done the Swede aspired to the position of highest command among the mutineers. He had even gone so far as to appropriate and wear certain articles belonging to the murdered captain of the Cowrie – articles of apparel which bore upon them the badges and insignia of authority.
Kai Shang was peeved. He had no love for authority, and certainly not the slightest intention of submitting to the domination of an ordinary Swede sailor.
The seeds of discontent were, therefore, already planted in the camp of the mutineers of the Cowrie at the north edge of Jungle Island. But Kai Shang 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 into 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 land-locked harbor upon the bosom of which the Cowrie 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 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 the 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 they had seen was actually searching for them. Kai Shang 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 had transpired aboard the Cowrie.
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 per cent. He alone could sail the Cowrie, therefore the others could not leave Jungle Island without him; but what was there to prevent Gust, with just sufficient men to man the schooner, slipping away from Kai Shang, Momulla the Maori, and some half of the crew when opportunity presented?
It was for this opportunity that Gust waited. Some day there would come a moment when Kai Shang, Momulla, and three or four of the others would be absent from camp, exploring or hunting. The Swede racked his brain for some plan whereby he might successfully lure from the sight of the anchored ship those whom he had determined to abandon.
To this end he organized hunting party after hunting party, but always the devil of perversity seemed to enter the soul of Kai Shang, so that that wily celestial would never hunt except in the company of Gust himself.One day Kai Shang spoke secretly with Momulla the Maori, pouring into the brown ear of his competition the suspicions which he harbored concerning the Swede. Momulla was for going immediately and running a long knife through the heart of the traitor.This is the kind of trouble that evil-minded people have – they always imagine that everyone thinks exactly like they do. The only way to stay on top of people like this is to have a sufficient imagination that you can picture in your mind what you would do if you had no restraints or moral compulsion if you were in the other person’s place. This ability has saved me from a lot of traps, but not all, for I don’t have the ability to think purely evil. After all, if I did, it would mean that I was evil and bad to the bone. God forbid!
It is true that Kai Shang had no other evidence than the natural cunning of his own knavish soul – but he imagined in the intentions of Gust what he himself would have been glad to accomplish had the means lain at hand.But he dared not let Momulla 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.Gust is right, his education has taught him the simplicity of reverse psychology, which he was not slow to use on Momulla, the savage Maori. ERB was having fun writing this chapter. He loved pirates for all of their adventure, double-dealing, rape and pillage. He uses pirates whenever he can in his stories. If you read enough of them you will see what I mean.
When he broached the subject of immediate departure Gust again raised his 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 open waters.
Momulla 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, Momulla, 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 Swede hastened to explain. “We are old friends, Momulla; 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 Cowrie 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 Mumulla. “What has the wireless to do with our remaining here?”This is a rushed job of foreshadowing. I’m sure the astute reader has figured out what is going on in the context of the overall story. The mate of the Kincaid is able to navigate a ship. Is he one of the disgruntled crew who has taken off from the ordeal of making a vessel and gone exploring and hunting instead? Let’s see.
“Oh yes,” replied Gust, 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 it lets them listen to all that is said on these other ships. Now, you see, when you fellows were shooting up the Cowrie you did a whole lot of loud talking, and there isn’t any doubt but that that warship was a-lyin’ off south of us listenin’ to it all. Of course they might not have learned the name of the ship, but they heard enough to know that the crew of some ship was mutinying and killin’ her officers. So you see they’ll be waiting to search every ship they sight for a long time to come, and they may not be far away now.”
When he had ceased speaking the Swede strove 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.
Momulla sat for some time in silence, eyeing Gust. At last he rose.
“You are a great liar,” he said. “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 his hole any longer they’d do it.’
“Go and ask 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 Momulla went to Kai Shang and asked him if there was such an apparatus as a wireless by means of which ships could talk with each other at great distances, and Kai Shang told him that there was.
Momulla was puzzled; but still he wished to leave the island, and was willing to take his chances on the open sea rather than to remain longer in the monotony of the camp.
“If we only had someone else who could navigate a ship!” wailed Kai Shang.That afternoon Momulla went hunting with two other Moaris. 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.Oh boy, I know you are thinking: Is there really going to be another attempted rape of Jane? Of course, Jane is one of the most stunning, beautiful blondes on earth and everyone wants a “piece” of her.
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 in terror on the hypothesis that the place was haunted – possibly by the ghosts of the murdered officers and men of the Cowrie.
But Momulla was even more curious that 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 a 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, mate of the Kincaid, 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 and 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 eyeing 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-lookin’ piece like she is in such a Gott-forsaken hole as this here island.”Schmidt looked up and grinned.Wow, this is like Kai Shang’s prayer coming true, isn’t it? What a coincidence! Of course, ERB was a good student of human nature, knowing that evil always begets more evil, even if it sometimes works for the greater good. I mean, is Europe better off now than it was before World War II? Did all of the Nazi evil in the end create a greater good? Yea, I know: these things are always left better off in the hands of God than men.
“So that’s how she’s blowin’, is it?” he asked. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Wot’s in it for me if I help you?”
“She ought to pay us well to get her back to civilization,” explained Schneider, “an’ I tell you what I’ll do, I’ll just whack up with the two men that helps me. I’ll take half an’ they can divide the other half – you an’ whoever the other bloke is. I’m sick of this place, an’ 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, an’ know that none o’ the other fellows would, so’s you’re the only one what knows anything of navigation you’re the fellow I’ll tie to.”ERB spent many a careless hours viewing the peep shows of his early youth. Many of these were National Geographic type depictions of naked native black women in all of their glory, including many young nubile lasses. These are available at: www.erbzine.com/mag12/cards/card21.html Thus, he had a vivid models in mind for the runaway bride in question.
Momulla the Maori pricked up his ears. He had a smattering of every tongue that is spoken upon the seas, and more than a few times had he 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. Momulla raised his right hand, palm forward, as a sign of his pacific intentions.
“I am a friend,” he said. “I have 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 will 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 we will give you later. You can take the woman of whom you speak, and we’ll ask no questions either. Is it a bargain?”
Schneider desired more information, and got as much as Momulla thought best to give him. Then the Maori suggested that they speak with Kai Shang. The two members of the Kincaid’s company followed Momulla and his fellows to a point in the jungle close by the camp of the mutineers. Here Momulla hid them while he went in search of Kai Shang, first admonishing his Maori companions to stand guard over the two sailors lest they change their minds and attempt to escape. Schneider and Schmidt were virtually prisoners, though they did not know it.
Presently Momulla 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 of 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 in so far as accepting the command of the Cowrie 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 Momulla 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 Momulla entered their camp, it was with a 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.Wow, what a description of a mental process. And those names and places – who can tell if they are true. ERB can make a fantastic impossible thing seem true by the way he describes them, that is for sure. But often they end up being real. I googled “Pai-sha,” and found that it was related to Baisha, a small island near Taiwan – there is even a channel named after it south of the big island. Well, one more chapter to go. How is this puzzle going to be solved? Stay tuned.
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 possession of the Cowrie, so not more than two or three men at a time were ever permitted aboard the vessel unless all the balance of the company were there too.
As the two crossed toward Gust’s tent the Maori felt the edge of his long knife with one grimy, calloused 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 Momulla, 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 Momulla approached the entrance to his, and he thought that he noted a stealthiness in their movements that comported poorly with amicable or friendly intentions, and then, just as the two slunk within the interior, Gust caught a glimpse of the long knife which Momulla the Maori was then carrying behind his back.
The Swede’s eyes opened wide, and a funny little sensation assailed the roots of his hairs. Also he turned almost white beneath his tan. Quite precipately 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 Momulla had come to take his life. The knowledge that he alone could navigate the Cowrie had, up to 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 Momulla. 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 garrotte a man at Pai-sha in a dark alleyway back of Loo Kotai’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 reach of either. Therefore he chose the pitiless jungle.