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Volume 7891


Part XI
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 III: ERBzine 7891 ~ ERBzine 7891a ~ ERBzine7891b ~ ERBzine 7891c ~ ERBzine 7891d
             The shit is surely hitting the fan as Ko-tan, the king of A-lur, advances to the high priest under the latter’s command. It apparently has something to do with a slave that knows something concerning Tarzan and Pan-at-lee, since she also has been summoned. Is Tarzan’s masquerade coming to a sudden end? Let’s find out


            But it was an hour before the king re-entered the apartment and in the meantime the ape-man had occupied himself in examining the carvings upon the walls and the numerous specimens of the handicrafts of Pal-ul-donian artisans which combined to impart an atmosphere of richness and luxury in the apartment.

            The limestone of the country, close-grained and of marble whiteness yet worked with comparative ease with crude instruments, had been wrought by cunning craftsmen into bowls and urns and vases of considerable grace and beauty. Into the carved designs of many of these virgin gold had been hammered, presenting the effect of a rich and magnificent cloisonne. A barbarian himself the art of barbarians had always appealed to the ape-man to whom they represented a natural expression of man’s love of the beautiful to even a greater extent than the studied and artificial efforts of civilization. Here was the real art of old masters, the other the cheap imitations of the chromo.

            I googled the word “chromo” and only got definitions that dealt with color or medicine, which makes me speculate, due to the context, that it must have been some kind of Chicago slang at the time for a cheap knockoff.

            It was while he was thus pleasurably engaged that Ko-tan returned. As Tarzan, attracted by the movement of the hangings through which the king entered, turned and faced him he was almost shocked by the remarkable alteration of the king’s appearance. His face was livid, his hands trembled as with palsy, and his eyes were wide as with fright. His appearance was one apparently of a combination of consuming anger and withering fear. Tarzan looked at him questioningly.

            “You have had bad news, Ko-tan?” he asked.

            The king mumbled an unintelligible reply. Behind there thronged into the apartment so great a number of warriors that they choked the entrance-way. The king looked apprehensively to right and left. He cast terrified glances at the ape-man and then raising his face and turning his eyes upward he cried, “Jad-ben-Oho be my witness that I do not this thing of my own accord.” There was a moment’s silence which was again broken by Ko-tan. “Seize him,” he cried to the warriors about him, “for Lu-don, the high priest, swears that he is an imposter.”

            To have offered armed resistance to this great concourse of warriors in the very heart of the palace of their king would have been worse than fatal. Already Tarzan had come far by his wits and now within a few hours he had had his hopes and his suspicions partially verified by the vague admission of O-lo-a he was impressed with the necessity of inviting no mortal risk that he could avoid.

            “Stop!” he cried, raising his palm against them. “What is the meaning of this?”

            “Lu-don claims he has proof that you are not the son of Jad-ben-Otho,” replied Ko-tan. “He demands that you be brought to the throneroom to face your accusers. If you are who you claim to be none knows better than you that you need have no fear in acquiescing to his demands, but remember always that in such matters the high priest commands the king and that I am only the bearer of these commands, not their author.”

            Tarzan saw that Ko-tan was not entirely convinced of his duplicity as was evidenced by his palpable design to play safe.

            “Let not your warriors seize me,” he said to Ko-tan, “lest Jad-ben-Otho, mistaking their intention, strike them dead.” The effect of his words was immediate upon the men in the front rank of those who faced him, and seeming suddenly to acquire a new modesty that compelled him to self-effacement behind those directly in his rear – a modesty that became rapidly contagious.

            The ape-man smiled. “Fear not,” he said, “I will go willingly to the audience chamber to face the blasphemers who accuse me.”

            You have to hand it to Tarzan, he’s not backing down. Maybe the idea of being the son of god has gone to his head.

            Arrived at the great throneroom a new complication arose. Ko-tan would not acknowledge the right of Lu-don to occupy the apex of the pyramid and Lu-don would not consent to occupying an inferior position while Tarzan, to remain consistent with his high claims, insisted that no one should stand above him, but only to the ape-man was the humor of the situation apparent.

 Tarzan facing his own death thinks the situation is humorous, that’s really something. Of course in light of the superstition the humor is there all right.

             To relieve the situation Ja-don suggested that all three of them occupy the throne, but this suggestion was repudiated by Ko-tan who argued that no mortal other than a king of Pal-ul-don had ever sat upon the high eminence, and that furthermore there was not room for three there.

            “But who,” said Tarzan, “is my accuser and who is my judge?”

            “Lu-don is your accuser,” explained Ko-tan.

            “And Lu-don is your judge,” cried the high priest.

            “I am to be judged by him who accuses me then,” said Tarzan. “It were better to dispense then with my formalities and ask Lu-don to sentence me.” His tone was ironical and his sneering face, looking straight into that of the high priest, but caused the latter’s hatred to rise to still greater proportions.

            It was evident that Ko-tan and his warriors saw the justice of Tarzan’s implied objection to this unfair method of dispensing justice.

            Tarzan’s tact is the second bit of wisdom in King Solomon’s Paradox: “Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit.” The first bit is more well known: “Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him.” (Proverbs 26: 4-5.)

            “Only Ko-tan can judge in the throneroom of his palace,” said Ja-don, “let him hear Lu-don’s charges and the testimony of his witnesses, and then let Ko-tan’s judgment be final.”

            Ko-tan, however, was not particularly enthusiastic over the prospect in sitting in trial upon one who might after all very possibly be the son of his god, and so he temporized, seeking for an avenue of escape. “It is purely a religious matter,” he said, “and it is traditional that the kings of Pal-ul-don interfere not in questions of the church.”

            “Then let the trial be held in the temple,” cried one of the church, but the warriors were as anxious as their king to be relieved of all responsibility in the matter. This suggestion was more than satisfactory to the high priest who inwardly condemned himself for not having thought of it before.

            “It is true,” he said, “this man’s sin is against the temple. Let him be dragged thither then for trial.”

            “The son of Jad-ben-Otho will be dragged nowhere,” cried Tarzan. “But when this trial is over it is possible that the corpse of Lu-don, the high priest, will be dragged from the temple of god he would desecrate. Think well, then, Lu-don before you commit this folly.”

            His words intended to frighten the high priest from his position failed utterly in consummating their purpose. Lu-don showed no terror at the suggestion the ape-man’s words implied.

            “Here is one,” thought Tarzan, “who, knowing more of his religion than any of his fellows, realizes fully the falsity of my claims as he does the falsity of the faith he preaches.”

            He realized, however, that the only hope lay in seeming indifferent to the charges. Ko-tan and the warriors were still under the spell of their belief in him and upon this fact must he depend in the final act of the drama that Lu-don was staging for his rescue from the jealous priest whom he knew had already passed sentence upon him in his own heart.

            With a shrug he descended the steps of the pyramid. “It matters not to Dol-ul-Otho,” he said, “where Lu-don enrages his god, for Jad-ben-Otho can reach as easily into the chambers of the temple as into the throneroom of Ko-tan.”

            Immeasurably relieved by this easy solution of their problem the king and the warriors thronged from the throneroom toward the temple grounds, their faith in Tarzan increased by his apparent indifference to the charges against him. Lu-don led them to the largest of the altar courts.

            Taking his place behind the western altar he motioned Ko-tan to a place upon the platform at the left hand of the altar and directed Tarzan to a similar place at the right.

            As Tarzan ascended the platform his eyes narrowed angrily at the sight which met them. The basin hollowed in the top of the altar was filled with water in which floated the naked corpse of a newborn babe. “What means this?” he cried angrily, turning upon Lu-don.

            The latter smiled malevolently. “That you do not know,” he replied, “is but added evidence of the falsity of your claim. He who poses as the son of god did not know that ast the last rays of the evening sun flood the eastern altar of the temple the lifeblood of an adult reddens the white stone for the edification of Jad-ben-Otho, and that when the sun rises again from the body of its maker it looks first upon the western altar and rejoices in the death of a newborn babe each day, the ghost of which accompanies across the heavens by day as the ghost of the adult returns with it to Jad-ben-Otho at night.

            “Even the little children of the Ho-don know these things, while he who claims to be the son of Jad-ben-Otho knows them not; and if this proof be not enough, there is more. Come, Waz-don,” he cried, pointing to a tall slave who stood with a group of other blacks and priests on the temple floor at the left of the altar.

            Finally! It’s about time we know who this bastard is. And I’m not really complaining, but typing all of these damn dashes is a royal pain in the ass.

            The fellow came forward fearfully. “Tell us what you know of this creature,” cried Lu-don, pointing to Tarzan.

            “I have seen him before,” said the Waz-don. “I am of the tribe of Kor-ul-lul, and one day recently a party of which I was one encountered a few of the warriors of the Kor-ul-ja upon the ridge which separates our villages. Among the enemy was that strange creature whom they called Tarzan-jad-guru; and terrible indeed for he fought with the strength of many men so that it required twenty of us to subdue him. But he did not fight as a god fights, and when a club struck him upon the head he sank unconscious as might an ordinary mortal.

            “We carried him with us to our village as a prisoner but he escaped after cutting off the head of the warrior we left to guard him and carrrying it down into the gorge and tying it to the branch of a tree upon the opposite side.”

            “The word of a slave against that of a god,” cried Ja-don, who had shown previously a friendly interest in the pseudo godling.

            “It is only a step in the progress toward truth,” interjected Lu-don. “Possibly the evidence of the only princess of the house of Ko-tan will have greater weight with the great chief from the north, though the father of a son who fled the holy offer of the priesthood may not receive with willing ears any testimony against another blasphemer.”

            Ja-don’s hand leaped to his knife, but the warriors next him laid detaining fingers upon his arms. “You are in the temple of Jad-ben-Otho, Ja-do,” they cautioned and the great chief was forced to swallow Lu-don’s affront though it left in his heart bitter hatred of the high priest.

            And now Ko-tan turned toward Lu-don. “What knoweth my daughter of this matter?” he asked. “You would not bring a princess of any house to testify thus publicly.”

           “No,” replied Lu-don, “not in person, but I have here one who will testify for her.” He beckoned to an under priest. “Fetch the slave of the princess,” he said.

            His grotesque headdress adding a touch of the hideous to the scene, the priest stepped forward dragging the reluctant Pan-at-lee by the wrist.

            “The Princess O-lo-a was alone in the Forbidden Garden with but this one slave,” explained the priest, “when there suddenly appeared from the foliage nearby this creature who claims to be the Dor-ul-Otho. When the slave saw him the princess said that she cried aloud in startled recognition and called the creature by name – Tarzan-jad-guru – the same name that the slave from Kor-ul-lul gave him. This woman is not from Kor-ul-lul but from Kor-ul-ja, the very tribe with which the Kor-ul-lul says the creature was associating when he first saw him. And further the princess said that when this woman, whose name is Pan-at-lee, was brought to her yesterday, she told a strange story of having been rescued from a Tor-o-don in the Kor-ul-gryf by a creature such as this, whom she spoke of then as Tarzan-jad-guru, and of how the two were pursued in the bottom of the gorge by two monster gryfs, and of how the man led them while Pan-at-lee escaped, only to be taken prisoner in the Kor-ul-lul as she was seeking to return to her own tribe.”

            “Is it not plain now,” cried Lu-don, “that this creature is no god. Did he tell you that he was the son of god?” he almost shouted, turning suddenly upon Pan-at-lee.

            The girl shrank back terrified. “Answer me, slave!” cried the high priest.

            “He seemed more than mortal,” parried Pan-at-lee.

             “Did he tell you that he was the son of god? Answer my question,” insisted Lu-don.

            “No,” she admitted in a low voice, casting an appealing look of forgiveness at Tarzan who returned a smile of encouragement and and friendship.

            “That is no proof that he is not the son of god,” cried Ja-don. “Dost think Jad-ben-Otho goes about crying ‘I am god! I am god!’ Hast ever heard him Lu-don? No, you have not. Why should his son do that which the father does not do?”

            “Enough!” cried Lu-don. “The evidence is clear. The creature is an impostor and I, the high priest of Jad-ben-Otho in the city of A-lur, do condemn him to die.” There was a moment’s silcnce during which Lu-don evidently paused for the dramatic effect of his climax. “And if I am wrong may Jad-ben-Otho pierce my heart with his lightnings as I stand here before you all.”

            The lappings of the wavelets of the lake against the foot of the palace wall was distinctly audible in the utter and almost breathless silence which ensued. Lu-don stood with his face turned toward the heavens and his arms outstretched in the attitude of one who bares his breast to the dagger of an executioner. The warriors and the priests and the slaves gathered in the sacred court awaited the consuming vengeance of their god.

            It was Tarzan who broke the silence. “Your god ignores you, Lu-don,” he taunted with a sneer that he meant to still further anger the high priest, “he ignores you and I can prove it before the eyes of your priests and your people.”

            “Prove it, blasphemer! How can you prove it?”

            “You have called me a blasphemer,” replied Tarzan, “you have proved to your own satisfaction that I am an impostor, that I, an ordinary mortal, have posed as the son of god. Demand then that Jad-ben-Otho uphold his godship and the dignity of his priesthood by directing his consuming fires through my own bosom.”

            Again there ensued a brief silence while the onlookers waited for Lu-don to thus consummate the destruction of this presumptuous impostor.

            “You dare not,” taunted Tarzan, “for you know that I would be struck dead no quicker than were you.”

            “You lie,” cried Lu-don, “and I would do it had I not just received a message from Jad-ben-Otho directing that your fate be different.”

            A chorus of admiring and reverential “Ahs” arose from the priesthood. Ko-tan and his warriors were in a state of mental confusion. Secretly they hated and feared Lu-don, but so ingrained was their sense of reverence for the office of the high priest that none dared raise a voice against him.

            None? Well there was Ja-don, fearless old Lion-man of the north. “The proposition was a fair one,” he cried. “Invoke the lightnings of Jad-ben-Otho upon this man if you would ever convince us of his guile.”

            “Enough of this,” snapped Lu-don. “Since when was Ja-don created high priest? Seize the prisoner,” he cried to the priests and warriors, “and on the morrow he shall die in the manner that Jad-ben-Otho has willed.”

            There was no immediate movement on the part of any of the warriors to obey the high priest’s command, but the lesser priests on the other hand, imbued with the courage of fanaticism leaped eagerly forward like a flock of hideous harpies to seize upon their prey.

            The game was up. That Tarzan knew. No longer could cunning and diplomacy usurp the functions of the weapons of defense he best loved. And so the first hideous priest who leaped to the platform was confronted by no suave embassador from heaven, but rather a grim and ferocious beast whose temper savored more hell.

            The altar stood close to the western wall of the enclosure. There was just room between the two for the high priest to stand during the performance of the sacrificial ceremonies and only Lu-don stood there now behind Tarzan, while before him were perhaps two hundred warriors and priests.

            The presumptuous one who would have had the glory of first laying arresting hands upon the blasphemous impersonator rushed forward with outstretched hand to seize the ape-man. Instead it was he who was seized, seized by steel fingers that snapped him up as though he had been a dummy of straw, grasped him by one leg and the harness at his back and raised him with giant arms high above the altar. Close at his heels were others ready to seize the ape-man and drag him down, and beyond the altar was Lu-don with drawn knife advancing toward him.

            So these morons heard the evidence against the ape-man and no one had the idea that the things Tarzan was being accused of involved supernatural strength and cunning? I mean he killed a Tor-o-don with his bare hands and outwitted two monster gryfs and threw warriors around as if they were toys. And they thought that it would be easy to seize him? These must have been special idiots in the Idiocracy of A-lur.

            Anyway, I believe this is the scene depicted on the cover of the book I bought from ebay. It is not credited, but the only thing that makes me sure that this is the scene are the two hideous headdresses depicted in the scene. Checking out the ERBzine site (# 0494), I see that the artist of this picture is J. Allen St. John and it appeared as the frontispiece of the 1921 edition by A.C. McClurg.

            There was no instant to waste, nor was it the way of the ape-man to fritter away precious moments in the uncertainty of belated decision. Before Lu-don or any other could guess what was in the mind of the condemned, Tarzan with all the force of his great muscles dashed the screaming hierophant in the face of the high priest, and, as though the two actions were one, so quickly did he move, he had leaped to the top of the altar and from there to a handhold upon the summit of the temple wall. As he gained a footing there he turned and looked down upon those beneath. For a moment he stood in silence and then he spoke.

            “Who dares believe,” he cried, “that Jad-ben-Otho would forsake his son?” and then he dropped from their sight upon the other side.

            There were two at least left within the enclosure whose hearts leaped with involuntary elation at the success of the ape-man’s maneuver, and one of them smiled openly. This was Ja-don, and the other Pan-at-lee.

            The brains of the priest that Tarzan had thrown at the head of Lu-don had been dashed out against the temple wall while the high priest himself had escaped with only a few bruises, sustained in his fall to the hard pavement. Quickly scrambling to his feet he looked around in fear, in terror, and finally in bewilderment, for he had not been a witness to the ape-man’s escape. “Seize him,” he cried, “seize the blasphemer,” and he continued to look around in search of his victim with such a ridiculous expression of bewilderment that more than a single warrior was compelled to hide his smiles beneath his palm.

            The priests were rushing around wildly, exhorting the warriors to pursue the fugitive but these awaited now stolidly the command of their king or high priest. Ko-tan more or less secretly pleased by the discomfiture of Lu-don, waited for that worthy to give the necessary directions which he presently did when one of his acolytes excitedly explained to him the manner of Tarzan’s escape.

            Instantly the necessary orders were issued and priests and warriors sought the temple exit in pursuit of the ape-man. His departing words, hurled at them from the summit of the temple wall, had but little effect in impressing the majority that his claims had not been disproven by Lu-don, but in the hearts of the warrriors was admiration for a brave man and in many the same unholy gratification that had risen in that of their ruler at the discomfiture of Lu-don.

            A careful search of the temple grounds revealed no trace of the quarry. The secret recesses of the subterranean chambers, familiar only to the priesthood, were examined by these while the warriors scattered through the palace and the palace grounds without the temple. Swift runners were dispatched to the city to arouse the people there that all might be upon the lookout for Tarzan the Terrible. The story of his imposture and of his escape, and the tales that the Waz-don slaves had brought into the city concerning him were soon spread throughout A-lur, nor did they lose aught in the spreading so that before an hour had passed the women and children were hiding behind barred doorways while the warriors crept apprehensively through the streets expecting momentarily to be pounced upon by a ferocious demon who, bare-handed, did victorious battle with huge gryfs and whose lightest pastime consisted in tearing strong men limb from limb.

            I’m so glad that ERB took the time to tell us that the brains of the moron priest who rushed Dor-ul-Otho were splattered all over the temple walls. So, what’s in store for the ape-man now that the gig is up? I am sure that it will be nothing less than more reading fun.

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 III: ERBzine 7891 ~ ERBzine 7891a ~ ERBzine7891b ~ ERBzine 7891c ~ ERBzine 7891d

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