The Tarzan Twins t-22

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Dick and Doc took one look at the scene before them before they faced one another in silent consternation. So different from what they had expected had been this outcome of their hopes that both boys were shocked into utter speechlessness for a moment. It was Doc, as usual, who first regained control of his tongue.

  "We're lost, after all," he said. "What are we going to do?"

  "Maybe they're friendly natives," suggested Dick.

  "Maybe they're cannibals," suggested Doc.

  "I don't believe there are any cannibals any more," said Dick.

  "I don't intend to take any chances on that. There may be."

  "Let's sneak back the way we came then," whispered Dick. "They haven't seen us yet."

  Simultaneously the two boys turned to retrace their steps and there, blocking the trail they had just trod, stood a huge, black warrior scowling savagely at them. In his hand was a sharp spear.

  "Golly!" exclaimed Dick.

  "Gee!" ejaculated Doc. "What shall we do?"

  "We ought to be nice to him," said Dick.

  "Good morning!" said Doc, politely, with a smile that was nothing if not strained. "Nice morning, isn't it?"

  Zopinga, who had stood silent thus far, now broke into a torrent of words, not one of which the boys understood. When he had ceased, he again stood immovable.

  "Well," remarked Dick, casually, "I guess we'd better be getting along back to the train. Come on, Doc," and he started to move along the trail past Zopinga. Instantly the sharp point of the spear was at the pit of his stomach.

  Dick stopped. Zopinga pointed toward the village with his left hand and prodded Dick with his spear.

  "I guess he's inviting us to lunch," suggested Doc.

  "Whatever he's inviting us to do, I guess we'd better do it," said Dick.

  Reluctantly the two boys turned toward the village; behind them walked Zopinga, proudly herding his captives in the direction of the gates. At sight of them the women and children working in the fields clustered about, jabbering excitedly. The women were hideous creatures whose ears and lower lips were horribly disfigured, the lobes of the former having evidently been pierced during their youth to receive heavy ornaments which had stretched the flesh until the lower part of the ear touched the shoulder, while their teeth, like those of Zopinga, were filed to sharp points, though fortunately for the peace of mind of Dick and Doc, neither boy understood the significance of this.

  Some of the children threw stones and sticks at the boys and each time a hit was scored, Zopinga and the women and all the children laughed uproariously. Encouraged and emboldened by this applause one of the older children, a particularly hideous boy, rushed at Doc from the rear and swung a blow at his head with a heavy stick. Dick, while attempting to ward off the missiles that were rained upon him, had fallen a few steps behind Doc, which proved a very fortunate circumstance for his cousin as the black boy would have cracked Doc's skull if the blow had landed squarely upon its target.

  Even as the little fiend was in the act of swinging the cudgel Dick leaped in front of him and seizing his wrist with his left hand dealt the youth a blow in the face with his right fist that sent him sprawling upon his back.

  Doc turned just in time to witness Dick's act, though he did not fully realize how close and how grave had been his peril, and the two boys instinctively drew together, back to back, for mutual protection, as each was confident that Dick's attack upon the black youth would bring down the wrath of all the others upon them.

  "Good old Dick!" whispered Doc.

  "I suppose we're in for it now," said Dick, gloomily; "but I had to do it! He'd have killed you."

  "We couldn't be in for anything worse than we were getting before,"

  Doc reminded him. "Look at 'em now! I think it did 'em good."

  For an instant the blacks were so surprised that they forgot to throw anything at the boys; then they commenced to laugh and jeer at the discomfitted youth sitting on the ground nursing a bloody nose and while they were occupied by this new diversion, Zopinga herded the boys into the village and hurried them into the presence of a very fat negro who sat in conversation with several other warriors beneath the shade of a large tree.

  "This guy must be the chief," said Doc.

  "I wish we could talk to him," said Dick. "Maybe he'd send us back to the railroad, if we could explain that that was where we want to go."

  "I'll try," said Doc. "P'r'aps he may understand English. Say, Big Boy!" he cried, addressing the fat negro. "Do you savvy English?" The black looked up at Doc and addressed him in one of the innumerable Bantu dialects, but the American boy only shook his head. "Nothing doing along that line, Uncle Tom," said Doc, with a sigh, and then, brightening: "Hey, Parley voo zong glaze?"

  Notwithstanding the bumps and bruises that he was nursing Dick was unable to restrain his laughter. "What's the matter?" demanded Doc. "What's so funny?"

  "Your French."

  Doc grinned. "I must be improving," he said. "No one ever recognized my French as French before."

  "Your friend there doesn't recognize it even as speech. Why don't you try making signs?"

  "I never thought of that. Good old Dick! Every once in a while he shows a gleam of intelligence. Here goes! Watch me, Rain Cloud." He waved his hand at the negro to attract attention; then he pointed off in the general direction that he thought the railroad lay, after which he said: "Choo! Choo!" several times. Then he pointed first at Dick and then at himself; walked around in a small circle looking bewilderedly from one direction to another.

  Stopping in front of the black he pointed at him, then at Dick, then at himself and finally out through the forest toward an imaginary railway and again said: "Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo!"

  The negro considered him a moment through red-rimmed, bleary eyes; then he turned toward his fellows, jerked a grimy thumb in the direction of Doc, tapped his forehead significantly with a forefinger and issued a few curt instructions to Zopinga, who stepped forward and pushed the boys roughly along the village street toward its far end.

  "I guess he understood your sign language all right," said Dick.

  "What makes you think so?" demanded Doc.

  "Why, he thinks you're crazy—and he's not far off."

  "Is that so?"

  Zopinga halted before a grass hut shaped like a bee-hive, with a single opening about two and a half or three feet high, upon either side of which squatted a warrior armed as was their captor. Zopinga motioned for the boys to enter and as they dropped upon their hands and knees to crawl into the dark interior, he accelerated their speed with the sole of a calloused foot and sent them, one by one, into darkness that was only a bit less thick than the foul stench which pervaded the noisome den.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Crouching close together, Dick and Doc sat in silence upon the filthy floor of the hut. They could hear Zopinga talking to the guards at the entrance, and after he had gone away, they could still hear the guards conversing. It was most aggravating to be unable to understand a word of what was said; nor to gain a single clew to the nature of the people into whose power an unkind Fate had delivered them; nor any hint of the intentions of their captors toward them, for they were both now convinced that they were indeed captives. Presently Doc put his lips close to Dick's ear. "Do you hear anything?" he whispered.

  Dick nodded. "It sounds like something breathing over there," he said.

  "It is," Doc's voice trembled just a little. "I can see something over against that wall."

  Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom of the interior and slowly things were taking form within. Dick strained his eyes in the direction of the sound. "I see it—there are two of them. Do you suppose they're men, or—"

  "Or what?" asked Doc.

  "Lions, or something," suggested Dick, weakly.

  Doc felt in his pants' pocket and brought out a knife, but his fingers were trembling so that he had difficulty in opening the blade. "It's getting up!" he whispered.

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p; They sat with their eyes rivetted upon the dark bulk that moved against the back wall of the hut. It seemed very large and entirely ominous, though as yet it had taken on no definite form that they might recognize.

  "It—it's comin' toward us," chattered Doc. "I wish it was a lion! I wouldn't be as scairt if I knew it was a lion as I am not knowing what it is."

  "Gosh, it might be anything!"

  "Here comes the other one," announced Dick. "Say, I believe they're men. I'm getting so I can see better in this old hole. Yes, they are men."

  "Then they must be prisoners, too," said Doc.

  "Just the same you better get your knife out, too," said Dick. "I've had mine out—I was just going to tell you to get yours out." They sat very still as the two forms crept toward them on all fours and presently they saw that one was a very large negro and the other either a very small one, or a child. "Tell 'em to keep away, or we'll stick 'em with our knives," said Doc. "They wouldn't understand if we did tell 'em," replied Dick, and then, in pidgin English that they could barely understand, one of the blacks announced that he spoke excellent English.

  "Gee!" exclaimed Doc, with a sigh of relief, "I could almost kiss him."

  The boys asked questions that the black understood only with the greatest difficulty and equally arduous were their efforts to translate his replies; but, at least, they had found a medium of communication, however weak and uncertain, and they were slowly coming to a realization of the predicament in which their foolhardy venture into the jungle had placed them.

  "What they going to do with us in here?" asked Dick.

  "Make us fat," explained the black.

  "Make us fat? What for?" demanded Doc. "Gee, I'm too fat already."

  "Make us fat to eat," explained the negro.

  "Golly!" cried Dick. "They're cannibals! Is that what he means?"

  "Yes. Bad men. Cannibals." The black shook his head.

  The boys were silent for a long time. Their thoughts were far away—far across continents and oceans to distant homes, to mothers—to all the loving and beloved friends they were never to see again.

  "And to think that no one will ever know what became of us," said Dick, solemnly. "Golly! it's awful, Doc."

  "It hasn't happened yet, Dick," replied his cousin; "and it's up to us to see that it doesn't happen. There must be some way to escape. Anyway we mustn't give up—not until they begin to ask which is preferred, dark meat, or light."

  Dick grinned. "You bet we won't give up, Doc, old boy. We'll learn all we can from this fellow so that when the time comes we'll have a better chance of making our getaway. The first thing to do is to try to learn the language. If we only knew what they were talking about, that might help us. And anyway, if we do escape, we'll be better off if we know how to inquire our way."

  "Yes, we might meet a traffic cop."

  "Don't be an idiot."

  Dick turned to the black squatting beside them. "What's your name?" he asked.

  "Bulala," replied the black, and then he explained that he had been a cook, or safari, for a white man who was hunting big game; but that something had gone wrong and he had run away to go back to his home, and had been captured by these people whom he described as the Bagalla tribe.

  "Do you speak the same language as these Bagalla?" demanded Doc.

  "We understand each other," replied Bulala.

  "Will you teach us your language?"

  Bulala was greatly pleased with the idea, and set out at once upon the role of tutor and never in the world had a tutor such eager pupils, and never had Dick and Doc applied themselves so diligently to the acquisition of useful knowledge.

  "Say," said Doc, "this language is a cinch."

  "If you learn it as well as you did French," said Dick, "you ought to be able to understand yourself in about a hundred years, even if nobody else can understand you."

  "Is that so?" demanded Doc. "Well, you're not so good, yourself."

  As the boys' eyes had become more and more accustomed to the dim light of the interior of the hut they had discovered the scant furnishings, the filth, and their fellow prisoners. Bulala was evidently a densely ignorant, but happy-natured, West Coast black, while the other, whom Bulala referred to as Ukundo, was a pygmy and, though a full grown man, came barely to the shoulders of the twins.

  When Ukundo discovered that Bulala was attempting to teach the boys his language, he developed a great interest in the experiment and as he was much brighter than Bulala, it was more often his own dialect that the boys learned than that of the tribe to which Bulala had belonged.

  As for the furnishings of the hut, they consisted of several filthy sleeping mats that must have been discarded by their original owners as absolutely impossible for human use, and when anything becomes too filthy for a native African, its condition must be beyond words.

  Ukundo generously dragged two of them into place for the boys, but when they examined them, they both drew away. "If it weren't for the guards outside, I'd lead mine out and tie it to a tree," said Doc.

  "Afraid it would run away?" asked Dick.

  "No; I'd be afraid it would crawl back in here with us."

  At dusk some food was brought them—hideously repulsive, malodorous stuff that neither of the boys could touch to their lips, half starved though they were. But Bulala and Ukundo were not so particular, and gobbled down their own portions and the boys' as well to the accompaniment of sounds that reminded Doc of feeding time at the hog house on his grandfather's farm.

  With the coming of night there came also the night noises of the village and the jungle. Through the aperture in the base of the hut, that served both as door and window, the boys saw fires twinkling in the village; snatches of conversation came to them and the sound of laughter. They saw figures moving about the fires, and caught glimpses of savage dancers, and heard the sound of tom-toms; but the heat from the blazing fires did not enter the cold, damp hut, nor did the laughter warm their hearts.

  They crept close together for warmth and at last, fell asleep, hungry, cold and exhausted.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When they awoke, it was still dark and much colder. The village fires had died away, or had been banked for the night. All was silence. Yet the boys were conscious that they had been awakened by a noise, as though the echo still lingered in their ears. Presently they were sure of it—a thunderous sound that rolled in mighty volume out of the dark jungle and made the earth tremble.

  "Are you awake?" whispered Doc.

  "Yes."

  "Did you hear that?"

  "It's a lion."

  "Do you suppose he's in the village?"

  "He sounds awful close."

  Numa was not in the village; he roared with his nose close to the palisade, voicing his anger at the stout barrier that kept him from the tender flesh within.

  "Golly," said Dick; "it wouldn't do us much good if we did escape. It would be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire."

  "Do you mean you'd rather stay here and be eaten by cannibals than try to escape?" demanded Doc.

  "No, I don't mean anything of the kind—I just think we haven't much chance of getting out of this mess, one way or the other—but I sure would rather try to get out of it than just sit still and wait to be eaten, like Bulala and Ukundo are doing. Have you any scheme, Doc, for getting away?"

  "Not yet. From what I could understand of Bulala's gibberish I guess they won't eat us for a while. He seems to think that they will wait until we are fattened up a bit; but from something else he said, it is just possible that they are saving us for a big feast that they have invited a lot of other villages to attend. Anyway, if we can have a few days to get a line on the habits and customs of the village, we will be in a better position to pick out the best plan and the best time for making our getaway. Gee, but it's cold!"

  "I didn't know anyone could be so cold and hungry, and live," said Dick.

  "Neither did I. It's no use trying to get to sleep again. I'm going to get
up and move around. Maybe that will make us warm."

  But all it did was to awaken Bulala and Ukundo, who were not angry at all at being awakened and only laughed when the boys told them how cold they were. Bulala assured them that one was always cold at night and as he and Ukundo were practically naked the twins felt a bit ashamed of their grumbling.

  Daylight came at last and with the rising sun came warmth and renewed vitality. The boys felt almost cheerful and now they were so hungry that they knew they would eat whatever their captors set before them, however vile it might appear. But nothing was brought them. In fact it was almost noon before any attention was paid them and then a warrior came and ordered all four of them out of the hut. With their guards they were herded toward the chief's hut in the center of the village.

  Here they found many warriors lined up before the blear-eyed old cannibal. The chief looked them all over; then addressed the twins.

  "He wants to know what you were doing in his country," interpreted Bulala.

  "Tell him we were passing through on the train and that we wandered into the jungle and got lost," said Dick. "Tell him we want to go back to the railway and that if he will take us, our fathers will pay him a big reward."

  Bulala explained all this to the chief and there followed a lengthy discussion between the chief and his warriors, at the end of which Bulala again interpreted.

  "Chief Galla Galla says he will take you back after a while. He wants you to stay here a few days. Then he will take you back. Also he wants all your clothes. He says you must take them off and give them to him as presents, if you want him to take you back to your people."

  "But we'll freeze," expostulated Doc.

  "You had better give them to him, for he will take them anyway," advised Bulala.

  Doc turned and looked at Dick. "What are we going to do about it?" he asked.