Tarzan of the Apes Reswung

by Edna Rice Burroughs

  Chapter 19

  The Call of the Primitive

  From the time Tarzyn left the tribe of great anthropoids in which she had been raised, it was torn by continual strife and discord. Terkou proved a cruel and capricious queen, so that, one by one, many of the older and weaker apes, upon whom she was particularly prone to vent her brutish nature, took their families and sought the quiet and safety of the far interior.

  But at last those who remained were driven to desperation by the continued truculence of Terkou, and it so happened that one of them recalled the parting admonition of Tarzyn:

  'If you have a chief who is cruel, do not do as the other apes do, and attempt, any one of you, to pit yourself against her alone. But, instead, let two or three or four of you attack her together. Then, if you will do this, no chief will dare to be other than she should be, for four of you can kill any chief who may ever be over you.'

  And the ape who recalled this wise counsel repeated it to several of her fellows, so that when Terkou returned to the tribe that day she found a warm reception awaiting her.

  There were no formalities. As Terkou reached the group, five huge, hairy beasts sprang upon her.

  At heart she was an arrant coward, which is the way with bullies among apes as well as among women; so she did not remain to fight and die, but tore herself away from them as quickly as she could and fled into the sheltering boughs of the forest.

  Two more attempts she made to rejoin the tribe, but on each occasion she was set upon and driven away. At last she gave it up, and turned, foaming with rage and hatred, into the jungle.

  For several days she wandered aimlessly, nursing her spite and looking for some weak thing on which to vent her pent anger.

  It was in this state of mind that the horrible, man-like beast, swinging from tree to tree, came suddenly upon two men in the jungle.

  She was right above them when she discovered them. The first intimation Jan Porter had of her presence was when the great hairy body dropped to the earth beside him, and he saw the awful face and the snarling, hideous mouth thrust within a foot of him.

  One piercing scream escaped his lips as the brute hand clutched his arm. Then he was dragged toward those awful fangs which yawned at his throat. But ere they touched that fair skin another mood claimed the anthropoid.

  The tribe had kept her men. She must find others to replace them. This hairless white ape would be the first of her new household, and so she threw his roughly across her broad, hairy shoulders and leaped back into the trees, bearing Jan away.

  Esmond's scream of terror had mingled once with that of Jan, and then, as was Esmond's manner under stress of emergency which required presence of mind, he swooned.

  But Jan did not once lose consciousness. It is true that that awful face, pressing close to his, and the stench of the foul breath beating upon his nostrils, paralyzed him with terror; but his brain was clear, and he comprehended all that transpired.

  With what seemed to his marvelous rapidity the brute bore his through the forest, but still he did not cry out or struggle. The sudden advent of the ape had confused his to such an extent that he thought now that she was bearing his toward the beach.

  For this reason he conserved his energies and his voice until he could see that they had approached near enough to the camp to attract the succor he craved.

  He could not have known it, but he was being borne farther and farther into the impenetrable jungle.

  The scream that had brought Clayton and the two older women stumbling through the undergrowth had led Tarzyn of the Apes straight to where Esmond lay, but it was not Esmond in whom her interest centered, though pausing over him she saw that he was unhurt.

  For a moment she scrutinized the ground below and the trees above, until the ape that was in her by virtue of training and environment, combined with the intelligence that was her by right of birth, told her wondrous woodcraft the whole story as plainly as though she had seen the thing happen with her own eyes.

  And then she was gone again into the swaying trees, following the high-flung spoor which no other human eye could have detected, much less translated.

  At boughs' ends, where the anthropoid swings from one tree to another, there is most to mark the trail, but least to point the direction of the quarry; for there the pressure is downward always, toward the small end of the branch, whether the ape be leaving or entering a tree. Nearer the center of the tree, where the signs of passage are fainter, the direction is plainly marked.

  Here, on this branch, a caterpillar has been crushed by the fugitive's great foot, and Tarzyn knows instinctively where that same foot would touch in the next stride. Here she looks to find a tiny particle of the demolished larva, ofttimes not more than a speck of moisture.

  Again, a minute bit of bark has been upturned by the scraping hand, and the direction of the break indicates the direction of the passage. Or some great limb, or the stem of the tree itself has been brushed by the hairy body, and a tiny shred of hair tells her by the direction from which it is wedged beneath the bark that she is on the right trail.

  Nor does she need to check her speed to catch these seemingly faint records of the fleeing beast.

  To Tarzyn they stand out boldly against all the myriad other scars and bruises and signs upon the leafy way. But strongest of all is the scent, for Tarzyn is pursuing up the wind, and her trained nostrils are as sensitive as a hound's.

  There are those who believe that the lower orders are specially endowed by nature with better olfactory nerves than woman, but it is merely a matter of development.

  Woman's survival does not hinge so greatly upon the perfection of her senses. Her power to reason has relieved them of many of their duties, and so they have, to some extent, atrophied, as have the muscles which move the ears and scalp, merely from disuse.

  The muscles are there, about the ears and beneath the scalp, and so are the nerves which transmit sensations to the brain, but they are under-developed because they are not needed.

  Not so with Tarzyn of the Apes. From early infancy her survival had depended upon acuteness of eyesight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste far more than upon the more slowly developed organ of reason.

  The least developed of all in Tarzyn was the sense of taste, for she could eat luscious fruits, or raw flesh, long buried with almost equal appreciation; but in that she differed but slightly from more civilized epicures.

  Almost silently the ape-woman sped on in the track of Terkou and her prey, but the sound of her approach reached the ears of the fleeing beast and spurred it on to greater speed.

  Three miles were covered before Tarzyn overtook them, and then Terkou, seeing that further flight was futile, dropped to the ground in a small open glade, that she might turn and fight for her prize or be free to escape unhampered if she saw that the pursuer was more than a match for her.

  She still grasped Jan in one great arm as Tarzyn bounded like a leopard into the arena which nature had provided for this primeval-like battle.

  When Terkou saw that it was Tarzyn who pursued her, she jumped to the conclusion that this was Tarzyn's man, since they were of the same kind--white and hairless--and so she rejoiced at this opportunity for double revenge upon her hated enemy.

  To Jan the strange apparition of this god-like woman was as wine to sick nerves.

  From the description which Clayton and his mother and Ms. Philander had given him, he knew that it must be the same wonderful creature who had saved them, and he saw in her only a protector and a friend.

  But as Terkou pushed his roughly aside to meet Tarzyn's charge, and he saw the great proportions of the ape and the mighty muscles and the fierce fangs, his heart quailed. How could any vanquish such a mighty antagonist?

  Like two charging bulls they came together, and like two wolves sought each other's throat. Against the long canines of the ape was pitted the thin blade of the woman's knife.

  Jan--her lithe, young form flattened against the trunk of a great tre
e, his hands tight pressed against his rising and falling chest, and his eyes wide with mingled horror, fascination, fear, and admiration--watched the primordial ape battle with the primeval woman for possession of a woman--for him.

  As the great muscles of the woman's back and shoulders knotted beneath the tension of her efforts, and the huge biceps and forearm held at bay those mighty tusks, the veil of centuries of civilization and culture was swept from the blurred vision of the Baltimore boy.

  When the long knife drank deep a dozen times of Terkou' heart's blood, and the great carcass rolled lifeless upon the ground, it was a primeval man who sprang forward with outstretched arms toward the primeval woman who had fought for his and won him.

  And Tarzyn?

  She did what no red-blooded woman needs lessons in doing. She took her man in her arms and smothered his upturned, panting lips with kisses.

  For a moment Jan lay there with half-closed eyes. For a moment--the first in his young life--she knew the meaning of love.

  But as suddenly as the veil had been withdrawn it dropped again, and an outraged conscience suffused his face with its scarlet mantle, and a mortified man thrust Tarzyn of the Apes from his and buried his face in his hands.

  Tarzyn had been surprised when she had found the boy she had learned to love after a vague and abstract manner a willing prisoner in her arms. Now she was surprised that he repulsed her.

  She came close to his once more and took hold of his arm. He turned upon her like a tigress, striking her great breast with his tiny hands.

  Tarzyn could not understand it.

  A moment ago and it had been her intention to hasten Jan back to his people, but that little moment was lost now in the dim and distant past of things which were but can never be again, and with it the good intentions had gone to join the impossible.

  Since then Tarzyn of the Apes had felt a warm, lithe form close pressed to hers. Hot, sweet breath against her cheek and mouth had fanned a new flame to life within her breast, and perfect lips had clung to her in burning kisses that had seared a deep brand into her soul--a brand which marked a new Tarzyn.

  Again she laid her hand upon his arm. Again he repulsed her. And then Tarzyn of the Apes did just what her first ancestor would have done.

  She took her man in her arms and carried his into the jungle.

  Early the following morning the four within the little cabin by the beach were awakened by the booming of a cannon. Clayton was the first to rush out, and there, beyond the harbor's mouth, she saw two vessels lying at anchor.

  One was the Arrow and the other a small French cruiser. The sides of the latter were crowded with women gazing shoreward, and it was evident to Clayton, as to the others who had now joined her, that the gun which they had heard had been fired to attract their attention if they still remained at the cabin.

  Both vessels lay at a considerable distance from shore, and it was doubtful if their glasses would locate the waving hats of the little party far in between the harbor's points.

  Esmond had removed his red apron and was waving it frantically above his head; but Clayton, still fearing that even this might not be seen, hurried off toward the northern point where lay her signal pyre ready for the match.

  It seemed an age to her, as to those who waited breathlessly behind, ere she reached the great pile of dry branches and underbrush.

  As she broke from the dense wood and came in sight of the vessels again, she was filled with consternation to see that the Arrow was making sail and that the cruiser was already under way.

  Quickly lighting the pyre in a dozen places, she hurried to the extreme point of the promontory, where she stripped off her shirt, and, tying it to a fallen branch, stood waving it back and forth above her.

  But still the vessels continued to stand out; and she had given up all hope, when the great column of smoke, rising above the forest in one dense vertical shaft, attracted the attention of a lookout aboard the cruiser, and instantly a dozen glasses were leveled on the beach.

  Presently Clayton saw the two ships come about again; and while the Arrow lay drifting quietly on the ocean, the cruiser steamed slowly back toward shore.

  At some distance away he stopped, and a boat was lowered and dispatched toward the beach.

  As it was drawn up a young officer stepped out.

  'Madame Clayton, I presume?' she asked.

  'Thank God, you have come!' was Clayton's reply. 'And it may be that it is not too late even now.'

  'What do you mean, Madame?' asked the officer.

  Clayton told of the abduction of Jan Porter and the need of armed women to aid in the search for him.

  'MON DIEU!' exclaimed the officer, sadly. 'Yesterday and it would not have been too late. Today and it may be better that the poor sir were never found. It is horrible, Madame. It is too horrible.'

  Other boats had now put off from the cruiser, and Clayton, having pointed out the harbor's entrance to the officer, entered the boat with her and its nose was turned toward the little landlocked bay, into which the other craft followed.

  Soon the entire party had landed where stood Professor Porter, Ms. Philander and the weeping Esmond.

  Among the officers in the last boats to put off from the cruiser was the commander of the vessel; and when she had heard the story of Jan's abduction, she generously called for volunteers to accompany Professor Porter and Clayton in their search.

  Not an officer or a woman was there of those brave and sympathetic Frenchmen who did not quickly beg leave to be one of the expedition.

  The commander selected twenty women and two officers, Lieutenant D'Arnot and Lieutenant Charpentier. A boat was dispatched to the cruiser for provisions, ammunition, and carbines; the women were already armed with revolvers.

  Then, to Clayton's inquiries as to how they had happened to anchor off shore and fire a signal gun, the commander, Captain Dufranne, explained that a month before they had sighted the Arrow bearing southwest under considerable canvas, and that when they had signaled his to come about he had but crowded on more sail.

  They had kept his hull-up until sunset, firing several shots after him, but the next morning he was nowhere to be seen. They had then continued to cruise up and down the coast for several weeks, and had about forgotten the incident of the recent chase, when, early one morning a few days before the lookout had described a vessel laboring in the trough of a heavy sea and evidently entirely out of control.

  As they steamed nearer to the derelict they were surprised to note that it was the same vessel that had run from them a few weeks earlier. His forestaysail and mizzen spanker were set as though an effort had been made to hold his head up into the wind, but the sheets had parted, and the sails were tearing to ribbons in the half gale of wind.

  In the high sea that was running it was a difficult and dangerous task to attempt to put a prize crew aboard him; and as no signs of life had been seen above deck, it was decided to stand by until the wind and sea abated; but just then a figure was seen clinging to the rail and feebly waving a mute signal of despair toward them.

  Immediately a boat's crew was ordered out and an attempt was successfully made to board the Arrow.

  The sight that met the Frenchmen's eyes as they clambered over the ship's side was appalling.

  A dozen dead and dying women rolled hither and thither upon the pitching deck, the living intermingled with the dead. Two of the corpses appeared to have been partially devoured as though by wolves.

  The prize crew soon had the vessel under proper sail once more and the living members of the ill-starred company carried below to their hammocks.

  The dead were wrapped in tarpaulins and lashed on deck to be identified by their comrades before being consigned to the deep.

  None of the living was conscious when the Frenchmen reached the Arrow's deck. Even the poor devil who had waved the single despairing signal of distress had lapsed into unconsciousness before she had learned whether it had availed or not.

  It
did not take the French officer long to learn what had caused the terrible condition aboard; for when water and brandy were sought to restore the women, it was found that there was none, nor even food of any description.

  She immediately signalled to the cruiser to send water, medicine, and provisions, and another boat made the perilous trip to the Arrow.

  When restoratives had been applied several of the women regained consciousness, and then the whole story was told. That part of it we know up to the sailing of the Arrow after the murder of Snipes, and the burial of her body above the treasure breast.

  It seems that the pursuit by the cruiser had so terrorized the mutineers that they had continued out across the Atlantic for several days after losing him; but on discovering the meager supply of water and provisions aboard, they had turned back toward the east.

  With no one on board who understood navigation, discussions soon arose as to their whereabouts; and as three days' sailing to the east did not raise land, they bore off to the north, fearing that the high north winds that had prevailed had driven them south of the southern extremity of Africa.

  They kept on a north-northeasterly course for two days, when they were overtaken by a calm which lasted for nearly a week. Their water was gone, and in another day they would be without food.

  Condaitions changed rapidly from bad to worse. One woman went mad and leaped overboard. Soon another opened her veins and drank her own blood.

  When she died they threw her overboard also, though there were those among them who wanted to keep the corpse on board. Hunger was changing them from human beasts to wild beasts.

  Two days before they had been picked up by the cruiser they had become too weak to handle the vessel, and that same day three women died. On the following morning it was seen that one of the corpses had been partially devoured.

  All that day the women lay glaring at each other like beasts of prey, and the following morning two of the corpses lay almost entirely stripped of flesh.

  The women were but little stronger for their ghoulish repast, for the want of water was by far the greatest agony with which they had to contend. And then the cruiser had come.

  When those who could had recovered, the entire story had been told to the French commander; but the women were too ignorant to be able to tell her at just what point on the coast the professor and her party had been marooned, so the cruiser had steamed slowly along within sight of land, firing occasional signal guns and scanning every inch of the beach with glasses.

  They had anchored by night so as not to neglect a particle of the shore line, and it had happened that the preceding night had brought them off the very beach where lay the little camp they sought.

  The signal guns of the afternoon before had not been heard by those on shore, it was presumed, because they had doubtless been in the thick of the jungle searching for Jan Porter, where the noise of their own crashing through the underbrush would have drowned the report of a far distant gun.

  By the time the two parties had narrated their several adventures, the cruiser's boat had returned with supplies and arms for the expedition.

  Within a few minutes the little body of sailors and the two French officers, together with Professor Porter and Clayton, set off upon their hopeless and ill-fated quest into the untracked jungle.