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Volume 7893b

The two women dropped to their knees, stricken with awe at the thought of the awful nearness of the Great God

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 V: ERBzine 7893 ~ ERBzine 7893a ~ ERBzine7893b ~ ERBzine 7893c ~ ERBzine 7893d
             The trumpet is blowing Reveille, so it’s time to rise and fall out and join your regiment for the Battle of A-lur is at hand. The plan for the invasion appears to be a pincer movement, where Ja-don’s son, Ta-den, will attack A-lur from the northwest, while Ja-don attacks from the northeast, leaving Tarzan and his selected commandos to sneak through the secret passageway and emerge in the enemy’s rear in a surprise attack that will leave the enemy no escape. What can possibly go wrong? Well, ERB does not like his characters to be happy for long and any plan anyone can come up with usually fails to materialize or gets modified in unimaginable ways. So, Forward, March!


            As night fell a warrior from the palace of Ja-lur slipped into the temple grounds. He made his way to where the lesser priests were quartered. His presence aroused no suspicion as it was not unusual for warriors to have business within the temple. He came at last to a chamber where several priests were congregated after the evening meal. The rites and ceremonies of the sacrifice had been concluded and there was nothing more of a religious nature to make call upon their time until the rites at sunrise.

           Doesn’t it make you wonder how many babies and adults are sacrificed morning and evening in all of the cities of Pan-ul-don? That would be approximately 365 babies and 365 adults per year at each temple. That’s thousands of victims a year: a lot of blood.

            Now the warrior knew, as in fact nearly all Pal-ul-donians knew, that there was no strong bond between the temple and the palace at Ja-lur and that Ja-don only suffered the presence of the priests and permitted their cruel and abhorrent acts because of the fact that these things had been the custom of the Ho-don of Pal-ul-don for countless ages, and rash indeed must have been the man who would have attempted to interfere with the priests or their ceremonies. That Ja-don never entered the temple was well known, and that his high priest never entered the palace, but the people came to the temple with their votive offerings and the sacrifices were made night and morning as in every other temple in Pal-ul-don.

            As he entered the apartment where the priests were he greeted them after the manner which was customary in Pal-ul-don, but at the same time he made a sign with his finger that might have have attracted little attention or scarcely been noticed at all by one who knew not its meaning. That there were those within the room who noticed it and interpreted it was quickly apparent, through the fact that two rose and came close to him as he stood just within the doorway and each of them, as he came, returned the signal that the warrior had made.

            The three talked for but a moment and then the warrior turned and left the apartment. A little later one of the priests who had talked with him left also and shortly after that the other.

            In the corridor they found the warrior waiting, and led him to a little chamber which opened upon a smaller corridor just beyond where it joined the larger. Here the three remained in whispered conversation for some little time and then the warrior returned to the palace and the two to their quarters.

            The apartments of the women of the palace at Ja-lur are all upon the same side of a long, straight corridor. Each has a single door leading into the corridor and at the opposite end several windows overlooking a garden. It was in one of these rooms that Jane slept alone. At each end of the corridor was a sentinel, the main body of the guard being stationed in a room near the outer entrance to the women’s quarters.

            The palace slept for they kept early hours there where Ja-don ruled. The pal-e-don-so of the great chieftan of the north knew no such wild orgies as had resounded through the palace of the king at A-lur. Ja-lur was a quiet city by comparison with the capital, yet there was always a guard kept in every entrance to the chambers of Ja-don and his immediate family as well as the gate leading into the temple and that which opened upon the city.

            These guards, however, were small, consisting usually of not more than five or six warriors, one of whom remained awake while the others slept. Such were the conditions then when two warriors presented themselves, one at either end of the corridor, to the sentries who watched over the safety of Jane Clayton and the Princess O-lo-a, and each of the newcomers repeated to the sentinels the stereotyped words which announced that they were relieved and these others sent to watch in their stead. Never is a warrior loath to be relieved of sentry duty. Where, under different circumstances he might ask numerous questions he is now too well satisfied to escape the monotonies of that universally hated duty. And so these two men accepted their relief without question and hastened away to their pallets.

            And then a third warrior entered the corridor and all of the newcomers came together before the door of the ape-man’s slumbering mate. And one was the strange warrior who had met Ja-don and Tarzan outside the city of Ja-lur as they had approached it the previous day; and he was the same warrior who had entered the temple a short hour before, but the faces of his fellows were unfamiliar, even to one another, since it is seldom that a priest removes his hideous headdress in the presence even of his associates.

            Suddenly they lifted the hangings that hid the interior of the room from the view of those who passed through the corridor, and stealthily slunk within. Upon a pile of furs in a far corner lay the sleeping form of Lady Greystoke. The bare feet of the intruders gave no sound as they crossed the stone floor toward her. A ray of moonlight entering through a window near her couch shone full upon her, revealing the beautiful contours of an arm and shoulder in cameo-distinctness against the dark furry pelt beneath which she slept, and the perfect profile that was turned toward the skulking three.

           I know that this type of distinction is used in the grading of a coin’s worth, a cameo being the amount of contrast between the relief (raised or recessed design) and the field (background), so in this case, it would be the contrast of the bulges of her arm and shoulder against the fabric of the furry pelt. ERB highlights this even more by having a bright ray from the moon shine down on her.

            Now, let this be an alert to all those with sustained imaginations: Jane is in all likelihood naked beneath the furs, because she would definitely not sleep with breastplates, and there is no reason for her to wear a loin cloth. So have fun while she is struggling in the arms of her kidnappers as they exit through the window and across the palace grounds.

            But neither the beauty nor helplessness of the sleeper aroused such sentiments of passion or pity as might stir in the breasts of normal men. To the three priests she was but a lump of clay, nor could they conceive aught of that passion which had aroused men to intrigue and to murder for possession of this beautiful American girl, and which even now was influencing the destiny of undiscovered Pal-ul-don.

            What he is getting at here, other than the tactical use of words such as passion and arouse, it that all priests but the high priests have been castrated. They are unable to get it up with all of the knowledge that goes with it. I believe he is also suggesting that sex drives history, as in the case of the fate of Troy.

            Upon the floor of the chamber were numerous pelts and as the leader of this trio came close to the sleeping woman he stooped and gathered up one of the smaller of these. Standing close to her head he held the rug outspread above her face. “Now,” he whispered and simultaneously he threw the rug over the woman’s head and his two fellows leaped upon her, seizing her arms and pinioning her body while their leader stifled her cries with the furry pelt. Quickly and silently they bound her wrists and gagged her and during the brief time that their work required there was no sound that might have been heard by occupants of the adjoining apartments.

            Jerking her roughly to her feet they forced her toward a window but she refused to walk, throwing herself instead upon the floor. They were very angry and would have resorted to cruelties to compel her obedience but dared not, since the wrath of Lu-don might fall heavily upon whoever mutilated his fair prize.

            And so they were forced to lift and carry her bodily. Nor was the task any sinecure since the captive kicked and struggled as best she might, making their labor as arduous as possible. But finally they succeeded in getting her through the window and into the garden where one of the two priests from the Ja-lur temple directed their steps toward a small barred gateway in the south wall of the enclosure.

            Immediately behind this a flight of stone stairs led downward toward the river and at the foot of the stairs were moored several canoes. Pan-sat had indeed been fortunate in enlisting aid from those who knew the temple and the palace so well, or otherwise he might never have escaped from Ja-lur with his captive. Placing the woman in the bottom of a light canoe Pan-sat entered it and took up the paddle. His companions unfastened the moorings and shoved the little craft out into the current of the stream. Their traitorous work completed they turned and retraced their steps toward the temple, while Pan-sat, paddling strongly with the current, moved rapidly down the river that would carry him to the Jad-ben-lul and A-lur.

            The moon had set and the eastern horizon still gave no hint of approaching day as a long file of warriors wound stealthily through the darkness.into the city of A-lur. Their plans were all laid and there seemed no likelihood of their miscarriage. A messenger had been dispatched to Ta-den whose forces lay northwest of the city. Tarzan, with a small contingent, was to enter the temple through the secret passageway, the location of which he alone knew, while Ja-don, with the greater proportion of the warriors, was to attack the palace gates.

            The ape-man, leading his little band, moved stealthily through the winding alleys of A-lur, arriving undetected at the building which hid the entrance to the secret passageway. This spot being best protected by the fact that its existence was unknown to others than the priests, was unguarded. To facilitate the passage of his little company through the narrow winding, uneven tunnel, Tarzan lighted a torch which had been brought for the purpose and preceding his warriors led the way toward the temple.

            That he would accomplish much once he reached the inner chambers of the temple with his little band of picked warriors the ape-man was confident since an attack at this point would bring confusion and consternation to the easily overpowered priests, and permit Tarzan to attack the palace forces in the rear at the same time that Ja-don engaged them at the palace gates, while Ta-den and his forces swarmed the northern walls. Great value had been placed by Ja-don on the moral effect of the Dor-ul-Otho’s mysterious appearance in the heart of the temple and he had urged Tarzan to take every advantage of the old chieftan’s belief that many of Lu-don’s warriors still wavered in their allegiance between the high priest and the Dor-ul-Otho, being held to the former more by the fear which he engendered in the breasts of all his followers than by any love or loyalty they might feel toward him.

            There is a Pal-ul-donian proverb setting forth a truth similar to that contained in the old Scotch adage that “The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft a-gley.” Freely translated it might read, “He who follows the right trail sometimes reaches the wrong destination,” and such apparently was the fate that lay in the footsteps of the great chieftan of the north and his godlike ally.

            Tarzan, more familiar with the windings of the corridors than his fellows and having the advantage of the full light of the torch, which at best was but a dim and flickering affair, was some distance ahead of the others, and in his keen anxiety to close with the enemy he gave too litlle thought to those who were to support him. Nor is this strange, since childhood the ape-man had been accustomed to fight the battles of life single-handed so that it had become habitual for him to depend soley upon his own cunning and prowess.

            And so it was that he came into the upper corridor from which opened the chambers of Lu-don and the lesser priests far in advance of his warriors, and as he turned into this corridor with its dim cressets flickering somberly, he saw another enter it from a corridor before him – a warrior half carrying, half dragging the figure of a woman. Instantly Tarzan recognized the gagged and fettered captive whom he had thought safe in the palace of Ja-don at Ja-lur.

            Yes, I still imagine her as being naked for Pan-sat would have had little time to allow her to slip on breastplates or a loin cloth.

            The warrior with the woman had seen Tarzan at the same instant that the latter had discovered him. He heard the low beastlike growl that broke from the ape-man’s lips as he sprang forward to wrest his mate from her captor and wreak upon him the vengeance that was in the Tarmangani’s savage heart. Across the corridor from Pan-sat was the entrance to a smaller chamber. Into this he leaped carrying the woman with him.

            Close behind came Tarzan of the Apes. He had cast aside his torch and drawn the long knife that had been his father’s. With the impetuosity of a charging bull he rushed into the chamber in pursuit of Pan-sat to find himself, when the hangings were dropped behind him, in utter darkness. Almost immediately there was a crash of stone on stone before him followed a moment later by a similar crash behind. No other evidence was necessary to announce to the ape-man that he was again a prisoner in Lu-don’s temple.

            He stood perfectly still where he had halted at the first sound of the descending stone door. Not again would he easily be precipitated to the gryf’s pit, or some similar danger, as had occurred when Lu-don had trapped him in the Temple of the Gryf. As he stood there his eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness and he became aware that a slim light was entering the chamber through some opening, though it was several minutes before he discovered its source. In the roof of the chamber he finally discerned a small aperture, possibly three feet in diameter and it was through this that what was really only a lesser darkness rather than a light was penetrating the Stygian blackness of the chamber in which he was imprisoned.

            Since the doors had fallen he had heard no sound though his keen ears were constantly strained in an effort to discover a clue to the direction taken by the abductor of his mate. Presently he could discern the outlines of his prison cell. It was a smaller room, not over fifteen feet across. On hands and knees, with the utmost caution, he examined the entire area of the floor. In the exact center, directly beneath the opening in the roof, was a trap, but otherwise the floor was solid. With this knowledge it was only necessary to avoid this spot in so far as the floor was concerned. The walls next received his attention. There were only two openings. One the doorway through which he had entered, and upon the opposite side that through which the warrior had borne Jane Clayton. These were both closed by the slabs of stone which the fleeing warrior had released as he departed.

            Lu-don, the high priest, licked his thin lips and rubbed his bony white hands together in gratification as Pan-sat bore Jane Clayton into his presence and laid her on the floor of the chamber before him.

            “Good, Pan-sat!” he exclaimed. “You shall be well rewarded for this service. Now, if we but had the false Dor-ul-Otho in our power all Pal-ul-don would be at our feet.”

            “Master, I have him!” cried Pan-sat.

            “What?” exclaimed Lu-don, “you have Tarzan-jad-guru! You have slain him perhaps. Tell me my wonderful Pan-sat, tell me quickly. My breast is bursting with a desire to know.”

            “I have taken him alive, Lu-don, my master,” replied Pan-sat. “He is in the little chamber that the ancients built to trap those who were too powerful to take alive in personal encounter.”

            “You have done well, Pansat, I –”

            A frightened priest burst into the apartment. “Quick, master, quick,” he cried, “the corridor are filled with the warriors of Ja-don.”

            “You are mad,” cried the high priest. “My warriors hold the palace and the temple.”

            “I speak the truth, master,” replied the priest, “there are warriors in the corridor approaching this very chamber, and they come from the direction of the secret passage which lead hither from the city.”

            “It may be even as he says,” exclaimed Pan-sat. “It was from that direction that Tarzan-jad-guru was coming when I discovered and trapped him. He was leading his warriors to the very holy of holies.”

            Lu-don ran quickly to the doorway and looked out into the corridor. At a glance he saw that the fears of the frightened priest were well founded. A dozen warriors were moving along the corridor toward him but they seemed confused and far from sure of themselves. The high priest guessed that deprived of the leadership of Tarzan they were little better than lost in the unknown mazes of the subterranean precincts of the temple.

            Stepping back into the apartment he seized a leather thong that depended from the ceiling. He pulled upon it sharply and through the temple boomed the deep tones of a metal gong. Five times the clanging notes rang through the corridors, then he turned toward the two priests. “Bring the woman and follow me.” he directed.

            Crossing the chamber he passed through a small doorway, the others lifting Jane Clayton from the floor and following him. Through a narrow corridor and up a flight of steps they went, turning to right and left and doubling back through a maze of winding passageways which terminated in a spiral staircase that gave forth at the surface of the ground within the largest of the inner altar courts close beside the eastern altar.

            From all directions now, from the corridors below and the grounds above, came the sounds of hurrying footsteps. The five strokes of the great gong had summoned the faithful to the defense of Lu-don in his private chambers. The priests who knew the way led the less familiar warriors to the spot and presently those who had accompanied Tarzan found themselves not only leaderless but facing a vastly superior force. They were brave men but under the circumstances they were helpless and so they fell back the way they had come, and when they reached the narrow confines of the smaller passageway their safety was assured since only one foeman could attack them at a time. But their plans were frustrated and possibly also their entire cause lost, so heavily had Ja-don banked upon the success of their venture.

            With the clanging of the temple gong Ja-don assumed that Tarzan and his party had struck their initial blow and so he launched his attack upon the palace gate. To the ears of Lu-don in the inner temple court came the savage war cries that announced the beginning of the battle. Leaving Pan-sat and the other priest to guard the woman he hastened toward the palace personally to direct his force and as he passed through the temple grounds he dispatched a messenger to learn the outcome of the fight in the corridors below, and other messengers to spread the news among his followers that the false Dor-ul-Otho was a prisoner in the temple.

            As the din of battle rose above A-lur, Lieutenant Erich Obergatz turned upon his bed of soft hides and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and looked about him. It was still dark without.

            “I am Jad-ben-Otho,” he cried, “who dares disturb my slumber?”

            A slave squatting upon the floor at the foot of his couch shuddered and touched her forehead to the floor. “It must be that the enemy have come, O Jad-ben-Otho.” She spoke soothingly for she had reason to know the terrors of the mad frenzy into which trivial things sometimes threw the Great God.

            A priest burst suddenly through the hangings of the doorway and falling upon his hands and knees rubbed his forehead against the stone flagging. “O Jad-ben-Otho,” he cried, “the warriors of Ja-don have attacked the palace and the temple. Even now they are fighting in the corridors near the quarters of Lu-don, and the high priest begs that you come to the palace and encourage your faithful warriors by your presence.”

            Obergatz sprang to his feet. “I am Jad-ben-Otho,” he screamed. “With lightning I will blast the blasphemers who dare attack the holy city of A-lur.”

            For a moment he rushed aimlessly and madly about the room while the priest and the slave remained upon hands and knees with their foreheads against the floor.

            “Come,” cried Obergatz, planting a vicious kick in the side of the slave girl, “Come! Would you wait here all day while the forces of darkness overwhelm the City of Light?”

            Thoroughly frightened as were all those who were forced to serve the Great God, the two arose and followed Obergatz toward the palace.

            Above the shouting of the warriors rose constantly the cries of the temple priests; “Jad-ben-Otho is here and the false Dor-ul-Otho is a prisoner in the temple.” The persistent cries reached even to the ears of the enemy as it was intended that they should.

            I’m sure glad Korak saved all that ammunition for his Enfield, aren’t you? It does not look good for the forces of righteousness and how will Tarzan turn the tide on Ludon? Keep your footing on the blood-soaked ground as the fighting intensifies, fellow warriors. We are getting close to the conclusion.

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 V: ERBzine 7893 ~ ERBzine 7893a ~ ERBzine7893b ~ ERBzine 7893c ~ ERBzine 7893d

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