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Volume 7890b


A Commentary By
Woodrow Edgar Nichols, Jr.

ERB's JURASSIC PARK: TARZAN THE TERRIBLE ~ A Commentary by Woodrow Edgar Nichols, Jr.
PART I: Chapters 1-5
PART II: Chapters 6-10
PART III: Chapters 11-15
PART IV: Chapters 16-20
PART V: Chapters 21-25

PART II: ERBzine 7890 ~ ERBzine 7890a ~ ERBzine7890b ~ ERBzine 7890c ~ ERBzine 7890d
            Well, we’ve finally managed to get to A-lur, the City of Light. I believe we would all feel better about this story if ERB were to tie some loose ends together. As in, what the hell happened to Korak in the morass moat around Pal-ul-don? And what about Jane? It’s been way too long for her supporting role in our story, especially since she was such a powerful character in the past. After all, Tarzan taught her how to be a jungle master.

            But before we leave Pan-at-lee behind, I want to say that I decided to view the Tarzan the Terrible website (ERBzine #0494) to see if I could determine why I did not know that the gryfs could be tamed and ridden before I wrote this commentary. And, yes, it was all right there! Oh, well.

            One more thing about that site, I was really glad to see the three Joe Jusko trading cards, especially the one on the left depicting, I assume, Pan-at-lee, as one very hot sexy babe. It made me want to be Om-at, for they were lovers.

            Okay, it’s time to break camp and be on our way.


            As the hissing reptile bore down upon the stranger swimming in the open water near the center of the morass on the frontier of Pal-ul-don it seemed to the man that this indeed must be the futile termination of an arduous and danger-filled journey. It seemed, too, equally to pit his puny knife against this frightful creature. Had he been attacked on land it is possible that he might as a last resort have used his Enfield, though he had not come thus far through all these weary, danger-ridden miles without recourse to it, though again and again had his life hung in the balance in the face of the savage denizens of forest, jungle, and steppe. For whatever it might have been for which he was preserving his precious ammunition he evidently held it more sacred even than his life, for as yet he had not used a single round and now the decision was not required of him, since it would have been impossible for him to have unslung his Enfield, loaded and fired with the necessary celerity while swimming.

            Though his chance for survival seemed slender, and hope at its lowest ebb, he was not minded therefore to give up without a struggle. Instead he drew his blade and awaited the oncoming reptile. The creature was like no living thing he ever before had seen although possibly it resembled a crocodile in some respects more than it did anything with which he was familiar.

            As this frightful survivor of some extinct progenitor charged upon him with distended jaws there came to the man quickly a full consciousness of the futility of endeavoring to stay the mad rush or pierce the armor-coated hide with his little knife. The thing was almost upon him now and whatever form of defense he chose must be made quickly. There seemed but a single alternative to instant death, and this he took at almost the instant the great reptile towered directly above him.

            With the celerity of a seal he dove headforemost beneath the oncoming body and at the same instant, turning upon his back, he plunged his blade into the soft, cold surface of the slimy belly as the momentum of the hurtling reptile carried it swiftly over him, and then with powerful strokes he swam on beneath the surface for a dozen yards before he rose. A glance showed him the stricken monster plunging madly in pain and rage upon the surface of the water behind him. That it was writhing in its death agonies was evidenced by the fact that it made no effort to pursue him and so, to the accompaniment of the shrill screaming of the dying monster, the man won at last to the farther edge of the open water to take up once more the almost super-human effort of crossing the last stretch of clinging mud which separated him from the solid ground of Pal-ul-don.

            A good two hours it took him to drag his now weary body through the clinging, stinking muck, but at last, mud covered and spent, he dragged himself out upon the wet grasses of the bank. A hundred yards away a stream, winding its way down from the distant mountains, emptied into the morass, and, after a short rest, he made his way to this and seeking a quiet pool, bathed himself and washed the mud and slime from his weapons, accouterments, and loin cloth. Another hour was spent beneath the rays of the hot sun in wiping, polishing, and oiling his Enfield though the means at hand for drying it consisted principally of the grasses. It was afternoon before he had satisfied himself that his precious weapon was safe from any harm by dirt, or dampness, and then he arose and took up the search for the spoor he had followed to the opposite side of the swamp.

            Would he find again the trail that had led him into the opposite side of the morass to be lost there, even to his trained senses? If he found it not again upon this side of the almost impossible barrier he might assume that his long journey had ended in failure. And so he sought up and down the verge of the stagnant water for traces of an old spoor that would have been invisible to your eyes or mine, even had we followed directly in the tracks of its maker.

            ERB chooses this moment to return to the Tarzan drama, leaving poor Korak in the lurch once again. He’s out of the slime but still into the shit.

            As Tarzan advanced upon the gryfs he imitated as close as he could recall them the methods and mannerisms of the Tor-o-don, but up to the instant that he stood close beside one of the huge creatures he realized that his fate still hung in the balance, for the thing gave forth no sign, either menacing or otherwise. It only stood there, watching him out of its cold, reptilian eyes and then Tarzan raised his staff and with a menacing “Whee-oo!” struck the gryf a vicious blow across the face.

            The creature made a sudden side snap in his direction, a snap that did not reach him, and turned sullenly away, precisely as it had when the Tor-o-don commanded it. Walking around to its rear as he had seen the shaggy first-man do, Tarzan ran up the broad tail and seated himself upon the creature’s back, and then again imitating the acts of the Tor-o-don he prodded it with the sharpened point of his staff, and thus goading it forward and guiding it with blows, first upon one side and then upon the other, he started it down the gorge in the direction of the valley.

            At first it had been in his mind only to determine if he could successfully assert any authority over the great monsters, realizing in this possibility lay his only hope of immediate escape from his jailers. But once seated upon the back of the titanic mount the ape-man experienced the sensation of a new thrill that recalled to him the day in his boyhood that he had first clambered to the broad back of Tantor, the elephant, and this, together with the sense of mastery that was always meat and drink to the lord of the jungle, decided him to put his newly acquired power to some utilitarian purpose.

            Pan-at-lee he judged must either have already reached safety or met with death. At least, no longer could he be of service to her, while below Kor-ul-grf, in the soft green valley, lay A-lur, the City of Light, which, since he had gazed upon it from the shoulder of Pastar-ul-ved had been his ambition and his goal.

            Whether or not its gleaming walls held the secret of his lost mate he could not ever guess but if she lived at all within the precincts of Pal-ul-don it must be among the Ho-don, since the hairly black men of this forgotten world took no prisoners. And so to A-lur he would go, and how more effectively than upon the back of this grim and terrible creature that the races of Pal-ul-don held in such awe?

            A little mountain stream tumbles down from Kor-ul-gryf to be joined in the foothills with that which empties the waters of Kor-ul-lul into the valley, forming a small river which runs southwest, eventually entering the valley’s large lake at the City of A-lur, through the center of which the stream passes. An ancient trail, well-marked by countless generations by naked feet of man and beast, leads down toward A-lur beside the river, and along this Tarzan guided the gryf. Once clear of the forest which ran below the mouth of the gorge, Tarzan caught occasional glimpses of the city gleaming in the distance far below him.

            The country through which he passed was resplendent with the riotous beauties of tropical verdure. Thick, lush grasses grew waist high on either side of the trail and the way was broken now and again by patches of open park-like forest, or perhaps a little patch of dense jungle where the trees overarched the way and trailing creepers depended in graceful loops from branch to branch.

            At times the ape-man had difficulty in commanding obedience upon the part of his unruly beast, but always in the end it’s fear of the relative puny goad urged it on to obedience. Late in the afternoon as they approached the confluence of the stream they were skirting and another which appeared to come from the direction of Kor-ul-ja the ape-man, emerging from one of the jungle patches, discovered a considerable party of Ho-don upon the opposite bank. Simultaneously they saw him and the mighty creature he bestrode. For a moment they stood in wide-eyed amazement and then in answer to the command of their leader, they turned and bolted for the shelter of the nearby wood.

            The ape-man had but a brief glimpse of them but it was sufficient indication that there were Waz-don with them, doubtless prisoners taken in one of the raids upon the Waz-don villages of which Ta-den and Om-at had told him.

            At the sound of their voices the gryf had bellowed terrifically and started in pursuit even though a river intervened, but by dint of much prodding and beating, Tarzan had succeeded in heading the animal back into the path though thereafter for a long time it was sullen and intractable than ever.

            As the sun dropped nearer the summit of the western hills Tarzan became aware that his plan to enter A-lur upon the back of a great gryf was likely doomed to failure since the stubborness of the great beast was increasing momentarily, doubtless to the fact that its huge belly was crying out for food. The ape-man wondered if the Tor-o-dons had any means of picketing their beasts for the night, but as he did not know and as no plan suggested itself, he determined that he should have to trust to the chance of finding it again in the morning.

            There now arose in his mind a question as to what would be their relationship when Tarzan had dismounted. Would it again revert to that of hunter and quarry or would fear of the goad continue to hold its supremacy over the natural instincts of the hunting flesh-eater? Tarzan wondered but as he could not remain upon the gryf forever, and as he preferred dismounting and putting the matter to a final test while it was still light, he decided to act at once.

            How to stop the creature he did not know, as up to this time, his sole desire had been to urge it forward. By experimenting with his staff, however, he found that he could bring it to a halt by reaching forward and striking the thing upon its beaklike snout. Close by grew a number of leafy trees, in any one of which the ape-man could have found sanctuary, but it had occurred to him that should he immediately take to the trees it might suggest to the mind of the gryf that the creature that had been commanding all day feared him, with the result that Tarzan would be once again held a prisoner by the triceratops.

            And so, when the gryf halted, Tarzan slid to the ground, struck the creature a careless blow across the flank as though in dismissal and walked indifferently away. From the throat of the beast came a low rumbling sound and without even a glance at Tarzan it turned and entered the river where it stood drinking for a long time.

            Convinced that the gryf no longer constituted a menace to him the ape-man spurred on himself by the gnawing of hunger, unslung his bow, and selecting a handful of arrows set forth cautiously in search of food, evidence of the near presence of which was being borne up to him by a breeze from down river.

            Ten minutes later he had made his kill, again one of the Pal-ul-don specimens of antelope, all species of which Tarzan had known since childhood as Bara, the deer, since in the little primer that had been the basis of his education the picture of a deer had been the nearest approach to the likeness of the antelope, from the giant eland to the smaller bushbuck of the hunting grounds of his youth.

            Cutting off a haunch he cached it in a nearby tree, and throwing the balance of the carcass across his shoulder trotted back to the spot at which he had left the gryf. The great beast was just emerging from the trees when Tarzan, seeing it, issued the weird cry of the Tor-o-don. The creature looked in the direction of the sound voicing at the same time the low rumble with which answered the call of its master. Twice Tarzan repeated his cry before the beast moved slowly toward him, and when it had come within a few paces he tossed the carcass of the deer to it, upon which it fell with greedy jaws.

            “If anything will keep it within call,” mused the ape-man as he returned to the tree in which he had cached his own portion of his kill, “it is the knowledge that I will feed it.” But as he finished his repast and settled himself comfortably for the night high among the swaying branches of his eyrie he had little confidence that he would ride into A-lur the following day upon his prehistoric steed.

            When Tarzan awoke early the following morning he dropped lightly to the ground and made his way to the stream. Removing his weapons and loin cloth he entered the cold water of the little pool and after his refreshing bath returned to the tree to breakfast upon another portion of Bara, the deer, adding to his repast some fruits and berries which grew in abundance nearby.

            His meal over he sought the ground again and raising his voice in the weird cry that he had learned he called aloud on the chance of attracting the gryf, but though he waited for some time and continued calling there was no response, and he was finally forced to the conclusion that he had seen the last of this great mount of the preceding day.

            And so he set his face toward A-lur, pinning his faith upon his knowledge of the Ho-don tongue, his great strength and his native wit.

            Refreshed by food and rest, the journey toward A-lur, made in the cool of the morning along the bank of the joyous river, he found delightful in the extreme. Differentiating him from his fellows of the savage jungle were many characteristics other than those physical and mental. Not the least of these were in a measure spiritual, and one that had doubtless been as strong as another in influencing Tarzan’s love of the jungle had been his appreciation of the beauties of nature. The apes cared more for a grubworm in a rotten log than for all the majestic grandeur of the forest giants waving above them. The only beauties that Numa acknowledged were those of his own person as he paraded them before the admiring eyes of his mate, but in all of the manifestations of the creative power of nature of which Tarzan was cognizant he appreciated the beauties.

            As Tarzan neared the city his interest became centered upon the architecture of the outlying buildings which were hewn from the chalklike limestone of what had once been a group of low hills, similar to the many grass-covered hillocks that dotted the valley in every direction. Ta-den’s explanation of the Ho-don methods of house construction accounted for the ofttimes remarkable shapes and proportions of the buildings which, during the ages that must have been required for their construction, had been hewn from the limestone hills, the exteriors chisled to such architectural forms as appealed to the eyes of the builders while at the same time following roughly the original outlines of the hills in an evident desire to economize both labor and space. The excavations of the apartments within had been similarly governed by necessity.

            This description reminded me of the ancient Nabatean stronghold of Petra, which had been carved out of the sandstone of the Jordan Valley Rift. Petra has been the backdrop of many movies, most notably Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. 

            As he came nearer Tarzan saw that the waste material from these building operations had been utilized in the construction of outer walls about each building or group of buildings resulting from a single hillock, and later he was to learn that it had also been used for the filling of inequalities between the hills and the forming of paved streets throughout the city, the result, possibly, more of the adoption of an easy method of disposing of the quantities of broken limestone than by any real necessity for pavements.

            There were people moving about within the city and upon the narrow ledges and terraces that broke the lines of the buildings and which seemed to be a peculiarity of Ho-don architecture, a concession, no doubt, to some inherent instinct that might be traced back to their early cliff-dwelling progenitors.

            Tarzan was not surprised that at a short distance he aroused no suspicion or curiosity in the minds of those who saw him, since, until closer scrutiny was possible, there was little to distinquish from a native either in his general conformation or his color. He had, of course, formulated a plan of action and, having decided, he did not hesitate in the carrying out his plan.

            With the same assurance that you might venture upon the main street of a neighboring city Tarzan strode into the Ho-don city of A-lur. The first person to detect his spuriousness was a little child playing in the arched gateway of one of the walled buildings. “No tail! No tail!” it shouted, throwing a stone at him, and then it suddenly grew dumb and its eyes wide as it sensed that this creature was something other than a mere Ho-don warrior who had lost his tail. With a gasp the child turned and fled screaming into the courtyard of its home.

            Tarzan continued on his way, fully realizing that the moment was imminent when the fate of his plan would be decided. Not had he long to wait since at the next turning of the winding street he came face to face with a Ho-don warrior. He saw the sudden surprise in the latter’s eyes, followed instantly by one of suspicion, but before the fellow could speak Tarzan addressed him.

            “I am a stranger from another land,” he said; “I would speak with Ko-tan, your king.”

            The fellow stepped back, holding his hand upon his knife. “There are no strangers that come to the gates of A-lur,” he said, “other as enemies or slaves.”

            “I come neither as a slave nor an enemy,” replied Tarzan. “I come directly from Jad-ben-Otho. Look!” and he held out his hands that the Ho-don might see how greatly they differed from his own, and then wheeled about that the other might see that he was tailless, for it was upon this fact that his plan had been based, due to his recollection of the quarrel between Ta-den and Om-at, in which the Waz-don had claimed that Jad-ben-Otho had a long tail while the Ho-don had been equally to fight for his faith in the taillessness of his god.

            The warrior’s eyes widened and an expression of awe crept into them, though it was still tinged with suspicion. “Jad-ben-Otho!”he murmured, and then, “It is true that you are neither Ho-don nor Waz-don and it is also true that Jad-ben-Otho has no tail. Come,” he said, “I will take you to Ko-tan, for this is a matter in which no common warrior may interfere. Follow me,” and still clutching the handle of his knife and keeping a wary side glance upon the ape-man he led the way through A-lur.

            The city covered a large area. Sometimes there was a considerable distance between groups of buildings, and again they were quite close together. There were numerous imposing groups, evidently hewn from the larger hills, often rising to a height of a hundred feet or more. As they advanced they met numerous warriors and women, all of whom showed great curiosity in the stranger, but there was no attempt to menace him when it was found that he was being conducted to the palace of the king.

            They came at last to a great pile that sprawled over a considerable area, its western front facing upon a large blue lake and evidently hewn from what had once been a natural cliff. This group of buildings was surrounded by a wall of considerably greater height than any that Tarzan had before seen. His guide led him to a gateway before which waited a dozen or more warriors who had risen to their feet and formed a barrier across the entrance-way as Tarzan and his party appeared around the corner of the palace wall, for by this time he had accumulated such a following of the curious as presented to the guards the appearance of a formidable mob.

            The guide’s story told, Tarzan was conducted into the courtyard where he was held while one of the warriors entered the palace, evidently with the intention of notifying Ko-tan. Fifteen minutes later a large warrior appeared, followed by several others, all of whom examined Tarzan with every sign of curiosity as they approached.

            The leader of the party halted before the ape-man. “Who are you?” he asked, “and what do you want of Ko-tan, the king?”

            “I am a friend,” replied the ape-man, “and I have come from the country of Jad-ben-Otho to visit Ko-tan of Pal-ul-don.”

            The warrior and his followers seemed impressed. Tarzan could see the latter whispering among themselves.

            “How come you here?” asked the spokesman, “and what do you want of Ko-tan?”

            Tarzan drew himself to his full height. “Enough!” he cried. “Must the messenger of Jad-ben-Otho be subjected to the treatment that might be accorded to a wandering Waz-don? Take me to the king at once lest the wrath of Jad-ben-Otho fall upon you.”

            There was some question in the mind of the ape-man as to how he might carry his unwarranted show of assurance, and he waited therefore with amused interest the result of his demand. He did not, however, have long to wait, for almost immediately the attitude of his questioner changed. He whitened, cast an apprehensive glance toward the eastern sky and then extended his right palm toward Tarzan, placing his left over his own heart in the sign of amity that was common among the peoples of Pal-ul-don.

            Tarzan stepped quickly back as though from a profaning hand, a feigned expression of horror and disgust upon his face.

            “Stop!” he cried, “who would dare touch the sacred person of the messenger of Jad-ben-Otho? Only as a special mark of favor from Jad-ben-Otho may even Ko-tan himself receive this honor from me. Hasten! Already now have I waited too long! What manner of reception the Ho-don of A-lur would extend to the son of my father?”

            At first Tarzan had been inclined to adopt the role of Jad-ben-Otho himself but it occurred to him that it might prove embarrassing and considerable of a bore to be compelled constantly to portray the character of a god, but with the growing success of his scheme it had suddenly occurred to him that the authority of the son of Jad-ben-Otho would be far greater than that of an ordinary messenger of a god, while at the same time giving him some leeway in the manner of his acts and demeanor, the ape-man reasoning that a young god would not be held so strictly accountable in the matter of his dignity and bearing as an older and greater god.

            This time the effect of his words was immediately and painfully noticeable upon all those near him. With one accord they shrank back, the spokesman almost collapsing in evident terror. His apologies, when finally the paralysis of his fear would permit him to voice them, were so abject that the ape-man could scarce suppress a smile of amused contempt.

            “Have mercy, O Do-ul-Otho.” he pleaded, “on poor old Dak-lot. Precede me and I will show you to where Ko-tan, the king, awaits you, trembling. Aside snakes and vermin,” he cried pushing his warriors to right and left for the purpose of forming an avenue for Tarzan.

            “Come!” cried the ape-man, peremptorily, “lead the way, and let these others follow.”

            The now thoroughly frightened Dak-lot did as he was bid, and Tarzan of the Apes was ushered into the palace of Ko-tan, King of Pal-ul-don.

            Don’t you just love the way Tarzan uses religion and superstition to his advantage? ERB is never above making fun of irrational religious dogma where ever it might haunt a civilization. One has to ask, will Tarzan get away with it? I mean, he’s really on a roll after mastering the gryfs; commanding the Ho-dons must seem like child’s play. Will we now discover the whereabouts of Jane? We will just have to wait and see.

ERB's JURASSIC PARK: TARZAN THE TERRIBLE ~ A Commentary by Woodrow Edgar Nichols, Jr.

PART I: Chapters 1-5
PART II: Chapters 6-10
PART III: Chapters 11-15
PART IV: Chapters 16-20
PART V: Chapters 21-25

PART II: ERBzine 7890 ~ ERBzine 7890a ~ ERBzine7890b ~ ERBzine 7890c ~ ERBzine 7890d

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