Story of the Phantom

by Lee Falk

  "Oh, there was much more. Tell the boy," laughed his mother.

  "We had a little trouble with a local tribe who lived in the trees, but it wasn't much."

  "Lived in the trees? Like monkeys?" said Kit.

  "Something like that," mumbled the Twentieth now busy with his meat.

  'What else?" demanded Kit.

  Kit looked helplessly toward Guran.

  "Nothing else."

  "That's no story," he said.

  "Right. There isn't much to tell about it," said his father, as his mother shook her head hopelessly.

  A thin voice came from the shadows. It was Old Man Moze, the Teller of Tales. Like most primitive people who had no writing and thus kept no written records, the pygmies kept track of their own 30

  history verbally. There was more than one Teller of Tales, and these men were the books, the libraries, the records, and the histories of the tribe as they passed down the tales from generation to generation. Of all the Tellers, Old Man Moze was the oldest and knew the most. There were thousands of tales in orderly files in his mind, and, on all occasions, great or small, he brought forth a suitable one. No one, including Old Man Moze, knew how old he was. His face and body looked as though it were skillfully carved out of shining mahogany. His long hair and beard shone a dazzling white in the firelight as he stepped forward and leaned on his knobby staff.

  "But there is much to tell about it, O Ghost Who Walks," said Old Man Moze. "Have I not told the great adventure to my people these many times, and shall I not tell it now to this son, this fruit of your loins, this pride of the Skull Cave, this inheritor of the grand tradition, this future Keeper of the Peace?"

  Kit and Guran grinned at each other. They loved to hear Old Man Moze talk. He talked so strangely.

  "I don't think it's necessary to hear it all now, Old Man Moze," said his father, paying close attention to his plate. "Perhaps another time."

  "Now!" shouted Kit.

  "Now," said his mother smiling. "Please tell us all the tale, Old Man Moze."

  The old man bowed to her, a courtly bow like a nobleman in a palace, and his old bones creaked like a rusty hinge. He sat on a log near the fire, and, sipping spring water from a wooden cup, began the tale in his reedy singsong fashion.

  THE ROPE PEOPLE

  Word came to us that a white man and his daughter were lost near the great trees. It was said they searched for the lost city of Pheenix, which was a hopeless thing, since all know that this evil city was destroyed by the gods and buried deep from the sight of men so that the memory of those bad people would be gone forever. And so it is. (Kit glanced at Guran; the lost city of Pheenix? That was something he'd like to hear about, too.)

  So the Phantom set out from this place to find the lost people, and save them from the terrors of the jungle. And mounted on his fiery steed called Lightning ("The sire of Thunder," said his father to Kit, interrupting), he made his way to the place of the Great Trees. ("This part of the jungle was new to me, Kit," said his father. "The trees there are gigantic. They almost touch the sky.") Old Man Moze did not seem to mind interruptions. He simply halted the narrative, like a needle being lifted from a phonograph record, and when the interruption was over, the needle was returned to the record and he simply went on as though there had been no pause at all.

  He rode among the great trees and soon found their tracks, and being a keen huntsman, had no difficulty in following their trail. He found them at last, before a small campfire such as this one-an old man and his beautiful young daughter with golden hair-(Old Man Moze nodded to Kit's mother at this, and permitted himself a slight smile, which looked like a slow crack in old porcelain. Beautiful mother smiled graciously at the compliment.) It must be said they were surprised and frightened at the sight of this big masked stranger. (Beautiful mother nodded vigorously at that.) But he greeted them with his calm voice and assured them he was their friend and had come to aid them. And they were reassured and happy, for they had been afraid in the jungle night, and it is fortunate they had not suffered injury or death before this. Their luggage bearers had deserted them days before, being

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  afraid to enter this unknown part of the jungle.

  Then a curious thing happened, a thing such as one had never seen before. Ropes dropped from high above, from the great trees, ropes with loops on the ends, and dropped so swiftly and accurately about their shoulders and arms that the old man and his daughter were pulled up into the air before anyone knew. A rope had not fallen upon the Phantom, but he leaped to the girl's rope, and, clinging to it, was hoisted into the air with her. (That was scary, but thrilling," said his mother laughing.

  "Shh," said Kit, annoyed to have the narrative broken.) They were pulled high up, far above the ground so that their campfire was only a tiny flicker below, like a star. Up, up, up, into the leafy boughs that seemed to touch the sky. (Old Man Moze was very dramatic when he told this tale. His eyes flashed, his hands gestured like an actor.) High in the trees, they found themselves in a strange village, for that is what was there. A village like many another, save that it was built on platforms resting on heavy ropes among the high branches. Yes, there were huts up there, and a clear place where the women pounded the nuts that made their bread, and where they carved their meat. They had no fire in this place for fear of destroying the trees, and ate uncooked meats. There were children there, and nursing mothers. And ropes were stretched from one platform to another, and the people walked on these ropes in an amazing and fearless manner. If one fell, as sometimes happened, there were ropes below to catch them.

  It was amazing to see men, women, and children perched like birds on the ropes so high in the air. A boy suddenly slipped and fell into the air as the captives arrived. He caught himself on a line below, laughing, and none but the captives even looked at him.

  While still hanging in the air on the rope of the girl, other strands were flung out at the Phantom, binding him securely, so that he could not use his weapons. On reaching the top, the weapons were taken from his belt. They were brought before the chief, who told them strangers were not permitted in this land of the Rope People. Trespassers were killed, by being dropped to the ground from this great height. A quick death, as if dropped from a cloud. But the chief and all the warriors looked at the Phantom with excitement, and with suspicion.

  "By your garb, you would pretend to be the Phantom, himself," said the chief, to the amazement of the Phantom who had never known the Rope People.

  "I do not pretend, I am," he replied.

  "How can you be, when you profess ignorance of us and our ways? And yet if you are truly the Phantom you would know us well."

  This puzzled the Twentieth but he did not question it. There was some mystery here. It was soon explained. The chief and leaders led him to a large hut. There on the wall were a series of drawings crudely done, as though by a child, not like the work of good artists. But the Twentieth clearly recognized the figures drawn there. There were four drawings of the Phantom. In the first, he stood on a poorly drawn elephant. In the second he was holding a great boulder over his head. In the third he was running, pursued by warriors with spears. And in the last he faced a man twice his height, a giant.

  "Now," said the chief of the Rope People, "if you are the Phantom as you pretend to be, you will recognize that these are the feats you performed when you came here before. In the first picture, you are seen capturing an elephant with your bare hands. In the second, you are shown moving a great boulder. In the third, you avoided capture by our armed hunters for a full day. And in the last, you 32

  defeated the champion of the jungle in a battle to the death."

  The Twentieth was baffled and puzzled for he had never before seen these Rope People, nor had he performed these feats. But he realized the truth.

  ("Yes," broke in the Twentieth as he listened to Old Man Moze. "I realized they were talking about my father, not me. He had done all these things. Fr
om what I had read and heard of my ancestors, I believe it is true to say that my father was the strongest man of all the Phantom line. As a child, I saw him lift a horse as big as Thunder and carry him across a brook. But he never told me about these Rope People or the feats he performed there." Kit glanced at Guran, who nodded. The Phantom men did not talk about their accomplishments. They entered the facts in the Chronicles and left the talk to their descendants).

  "Thus he realized that his father had been there and done these amazing things," continued Old Man Moze, as though there had been no interruption.

  "Then," said the chief of the Rope People, "we cannot believe you are the Phantom, for that was many years ago and he would be an old man by now, but you are a strong young man. After he performed those deeds we made a pact of friendship with him. But we have no pact with you because you cannot be the Phantom."

  "But I am the Phantom," said the masked man.

  "Then, to save your life and the lives of the man and the girl, you must prove you are the Phantom. If you cannot prove it, you will all be thrown to the ground, to your deaths." And it was a long way to the ground, as from a cloud in the sky.

  "What must I do to prove this to you?" he asked. And the chief said, "You must do again these feats you did then." And there was nothing else for him to do, or the girl and the old man would die. And he would die. So he - agreed.

  ("How could you capture an elephant with no weapons, and all those other things?" cried Kit, anxious and worried as though the events had not yet happened. "I worried about that myself, Kit.

  These things seemed difficult or impossible. But there was no way out," replied his father.) And so he was lowered on a rope to the ground far below. The girl and her father remained in the village in the treetops. And his first task, to capture an elephant with no weapons, had to be accomplished by sundown, or the prisoners would be dashed to the earth, as from a cloud. So he thought and thought and an idea came to him. And he searched among the trees and bushes until he found what he needed, a special kind of tough jungle vine called Banga. And he found a sharp stone-for he had no other tool-and he pounded this vine until he had cut it, for it was the toughest and hardest of all jungle vines. (The listening pygmies nodded at the name, for they knew this vine.) And then he searched until he found the trail that the elephants make to their waterhole. And he found it.

  And he climb a tree that grew by the elephants' trail, and he waited. Time passed. The Rope People watched from their village high above. And the girl and the old man watched because it was a long way to the ground, and they would die if he failed.

  Now a large male elephant moved slowly through the bushes on the trail, now and then grasping a bunch of sweet grass and stuffing it into his red mouth. The Phantom waited, with the long vine in his hand. And as the elephant moved below him, he leaped upon its back. The great beast reared on his hind legs and trumpeted his rage and searched his back with his long trunk. But the Phantom moved quickly on the broad back and avoided the searching trunk that would dash him to the ground beneath the huge feet. And the elephant did all it knew to dislodge this being on its back. It rolled off

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  the grass, and on its back. And the Phantom hopped off and on again as it climbed back to its feet.

  And when his chance came, he passed the vine between the big jaws and pulled it so that it was tight inside the great mouth and thrice fastened it so it would not be dislodged. Then, holding the loose ends, he quickly tied them around a huge wide tree, and lo and behold, the elephant was caught! For the mouth of this great beast was as tender as a baby, and as he tugged, the tough vine bit into the soft flesh, and he was helpless.

  And the Phantom looked up at the trees and shouted to the watchers above, saying, "I have done the deed. I have captured the elephant without weapons." And they shouted down from the treetops, saying it was true. And the warriors of the Rope People grasped their spears and slid down the long ropes to the ground, for they prized the flesh of the elephant, and it was rare that they could satisfy their hunger, and now they would kill it and eat it. But before they could reach the beast, the Phantom had loosened the vine so that it was free, and the beast charged off into the bush. The Rope people cried in anger at him. "Why did you do that? Why did you free the elephant that we wished to slaughter and eat?"

  "I agreed to capture it. I did not agree to kill it," said the Phantom. And even in their anger, they had to say that it was true.

  Now, they led him to the second task. On a small hill there was a huge boulder partly buried in the earth. The warriors said, "If you are the Phantom you can move this as you did before." And he was perplexed, for this was a huge rock indeed.

  ("As big as a small house," said the Twentieth, as Kit stared at him with wide eyes. "I was perplexed.

  I knew my father was a man of unusual strength. But how had he moved that?") Perplexed, he studied the great boulder, and indeed it was larger than any man or any ten men could lift. And the girl and her old father watched from high in the sky, and they were afraid, for it was a long fall to the ground, as from a cloud. And the warriors watched and grinned at each other, for if he failed, then he was not the Phantom, but an imposter. As he studied the boulder, he had an idea. He began to dig in the earth around the boulder. It was packed down hard, but he dug and dug with his hands like an anteater at an ant mound. And the hours passed. There were smaller rocks pressing against the boulder, and he removed them and dug deeper, throwing the dirt on either side until the great boulder was uncovered. Then he Went behind it and pushed. He pushed and pushed. But though the boulder was on the slope of the little hill, it did not move. And his time was growing short.

  Then he lay on his back and put his feet against the boulder, and pushed. And he pushed. And the boulder moved, a little, then a little more, and more, until it rolled down the hill, smashing into a large tree and knocking it to the ground.

  ("A man's legs are stronger than his arms," said his father to Kit, who sat completely enthralled.) He turned to the watching warriors and said, "I have moved the boulder." And they had to say that this was true. Now the time had come for the third task, and dozens of warriors came down the long ropes with their weapons. Now they told him, "Our war party will hunt you until sunset, and you must escape us. If we find you, we will kill you, for you have no arms. You will hide now and we will not watch until the sound of the drums. Then our search begins," and they turned their backs and he ran into the bush. It was like a children's game of hide and seek, but this was no game for him and could end in his death. And the old man and the girl watched from high above, and they were afraid, for it was a long fall to the ground, as from a cloud.

  He raced among the bushes until he found a stream, then waded through it to hide his trail, for he guessed the Rope People to be expert trackers. (The listening pygmies nodded. They knew this jungle stratagem.) Then he moved out of the stream and up a slope to a rocky place. Where could he hide? These Rope People knew the country as their home. He was strange to it. He looked at the 34

  trees. No, not there. These people lived in the trees. Then came the sound of the drums and he knew the hunt was on. The woods were filled with the shouts of the warriors as they began the search. And the old man and the girl watched from high in the trees above, and they were afraid, for it was a long fall to the ground, as from a cloud.

  Now he ran, and he climbed, and he hid. And he ran again, and he climbed again, and he hid. And sometimes the warriors saw him and they cried out, but he ran off and was gone. And sometimes they came close enough to throw spears, but he dodged and ran behind trees and boulders and was gone. But the Rope People were good hunters and, as the hours passed, they closed in on him from all sides. Now they were close upon him. It was almost sunset, but it appeared there would be no escape from the circle of armed warriors who closed in. Behind him was a cave. There was nowhere else to go, so he dashed inside. The warriors laughed for they knew there was no escape from th
is cave. It was a deep cave with stone spears growing from the ceiling and stone spears growing from the floors. And he hid among them as the warriors cautiously approached the entrance to the cave.

  But he was not alone in the cave. Great eyes burned in the dark place. A low growl. It was a lion, a huge male lion that had also taken refuge in the cave. And now it heard the shouts of the approaching hunters and smelled the flesh of men, and with a mighty roar charged forward, first at the Phantom who faced the beast. But as it neared him, he leaped high into the air, grasping a stone spear, and held on so that the lion charged below him. And the lion rushed on just as the first warrior entered the cave. And it went through the war party like a storm, tossing them from side to side like leaves in the wind, and those that were not destroyed by the beast ran for their lives. And the lion pursued them until they could reach the safety of their trees. Now the light was red in the sky and it was sunset, and the Phantom came from the cave and shouted to the trees: "Your war party hunted me and it is sunset and I am alive." And they had to say that this was true.

  And now came the last task. He was to face the champion of the jungle in a fight to the death. The Rope People had selected their champion. He was a giant who lived in a big stone hut. And the bones of men he had slain were heaped about the hut, as were the bones of animals he had slain and eaten.