The Complete Tarzan Collection

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  He had formed such a conviction within a few moments after his meeting with Sborov, a conviction which made it doubly distasteful to him to be in the company of the man and waste time befriending him. He mistrusted and disliked him, but for Jane's sake he would not abandon him. Little Nkima seemed to share his mistrust, for he seldom came near the stranger; and when he did he bared his teeth in a menacing snarl.

  Chafing under the delay forced upon him by Sborov's physical condition, which bordered on complete exhaustion, the ape-man at last swung the surprised Sborov to his shoulder and took to the trees with the agility and speed of a small monkey.

  Alexis voiced a cry of remonstrance that carried also a note of fear, but he was helpless to escape the situation into which he had been snatched as though by the hand of Fate. Should he succeed in wriggling from that vise-like grasp, it would only lead to injury in the resultant fall to the ground below. So Alexis shut his eyes tight and hoped for the best.

  He knew that they were moving rapidly through the trees; the swift passage of foliage and twigs across his body told him that. He remonstrated with the bronzed savage that was carrying him, but he might as well have sought conversation with the Sphinx. At last he gained sufficient courage to open his eyes; then, indeed, did he gasp in horror; for at that very moment Tarzan leaped out into space to catch a trailing liana and swing to another tree upon his arboreal trail. Fifty feet below the eyes of the thoroughly terrified Sborov lay the hard ground. He screamed aloud, and then he found articulate voice.

  "Take me down," he cried. "Let me walk. You'll kill us both." Overcome by terror, he struggled to free himself.

  "It will be you who will kill us if you don't lie still," warned the ape-man.

  "Then take me down."

  "You are too slow," replied Tarzan. "I cannot be held to the pace of Kota, the tortoise, if I am ever to overtake the man you call Brown. If I take you down I shall have to leave you alone here in the jungle. Would you prefer that?"

  Sborov was silent. He was trying to weigh the terrors of one plan against those of the other. All that he could think of was that he wished he were back in Paris, which really didn't help at all in this emergency.

  Suddenly Tarzan came to an abrupt halt on a broad limb. He was listening intently. Sborov saw him sniffing the air. It reminded him of a hound on a scent trail.

  "What do those two men look like?" demanded Tarzan.

  "Describe them to me, so that I may know Brown when I see him."

  "Tibbs is a small man with thin hair and a pinched face. He is an Englishman with a slight cockney accent. Brown is a big fellow, an American. I suppose he would be called good looking," added Sborov, grudgingly.

  Tarzan dropped to a trail that they had crossed many times as it wound through the jungle, and set Sborov on the ground.

  "Follow this trail," he directed. "I am going on ahead."

  "You are going to leave me alone here in the jungle?" demanded Alexis, fearfully.

  "I will come back for you," replied the ape-man. "You will be safe enough for the short time I shall be gone."

  "But suppose a lion—" commenced Sborov.

  "There are no lions about," interrupted Tarzan. "There is nothing near that will harm you."

  "How do you know?"

  "I know. Do as I tell you and follow the trail."

  "But—" Sborov started to expostulate; then he gasped and sighed resignedly, for he was alone. Tarzan had swung into the trees and disappeared.

  The ape-man moved swiftly along the scent spoor that had attracted his attention. His sensitive nostrils told him it was the scent of two white men. He sought in vain to detect the spoor of a woman, but there was none— if the two men were Brown and Tibbs, then Jane was no longer with them.

  What had become of her? The man's jaw set grimly. That information he would get from Brown before he killed him.

  A human life meant no more to Tarzan of the Apes than that of any other creature. He never took life wantonly, but he could kill a bad man with less compunction than he might feel in taking the life of a bad lion.

  Any living thing that harmed his mate or threatened her with harm he could even find a species of grim pleasure in killing, and Sborov had convinced him that Brown meant harm to Jane if he had not already harmed her.

  The man's statement that Jane and Brown had run away together had not carried the conviction that the implication might have provoked, so sure was the Lord of the Jungle of the loyalty of his mate. Her intentions and her voluntary acts he never doubted nor questioned.

  What were his thoughts as he swung along the trail of the two unsuspecting men? That inscrutable face gave no suggestion of what passed in the savage mind, but they must have been grim and terrible thoughts of revenge.

  Rapidly the scent of his quarry grew stronger as the distance that separated them grew shorter.

  Now he went more slowly; and, if possible, even more silently. He moved as soundlessly as his own shadow as he came at last in sight of two men trudging wearily along the trail beneath him.

  It was they; he could not mistake them—the small Englishman, the big American. He paid little attention to Tibbs, but his eyes never left the figure of the aviator. Stealthily he stalked, as the lion stalks his prey.

  He was quite close above them. Easily now at any moment he could launch himself down upon his victim.

  Tibbs mopped the streaming perspiration from his forehead and out of his eyes. "Whew!" he sighed. "Hit all seems so bloody useless. Hit's like lookin' for a needle in a hay stack. We won't never find her anyway. Let's stop and rest. I'm jolly well done in."

  "I know how you feel, but we got to keep on lookin' though. We might find her. The more I think about it, the less I think Sborov got away with Lady Greystoke."

  "What's made you change your mind?" demanded Tibbs. "Hi thought you was sure he had."

  "Well, in the first place, she was armed; and she had the guts to defend herself. He ain't got no guts at all."

  "'E 'ad enough to murder his poor wife," objected Tibbs.

  "He sneaked up on her in the dark while she was asleep," sneered Brown. "That didn't take no guts."

  "But 'ow about Annette?"

  Brown shook his head. "I don't know. I can't make it out. Of course, there was a good reason for his wanting to kill Annette. She had the evidence against him—she knew too much; and she wasn't armed.

  "But what gets me is the way her footprints disappeared, just like she'd dissolved in thin air. If his footprints had been there too, and gone on, I'd have thought he picked her up and carried her into the jungle to finish her; but hers were all alone."

  They had stopped now while Tibbs rested. The ape-man crouched above them, listening. He missed no word, but what effect they had upon him was not revealed by any change of expression.

  "But 'e couldn't 'ave picked 'er up and carried her hoff and her not scream," argued Tibbs. "That would have woke some of us."

  "She might have been too scared to scream," explained Brown. "Annette was awful scared of him."

  "Lady Greystoke wasn't scared of him. Why didn't she call for help?"

  "Lady Greystoke wasn't scared of nothing. There was some dame, Tibbs."

  "Hi quite agree with you," replied the Englishman. "Lady Greystoke was a most extraordinary person. Hi 'opes as how we find her."

  "Yes, and I hope we find Annette. I can't believe she is dead, somehow." The note of yearning in the aviator's voice was not lost on the silent listener above.

  "You was rather soft on Annette, wasn't you?" said Tibbs, sympathetically.

  "Plenty," admitted Brown, "and that louse, Sborov, told her I was tryin' to make Lady Greystoke. Hell! Can you picture a English noblewoman falling for me?"

  "If you'll pardon my saying so, I can't," admitted Tibbs, candidly.

  "No more can I. She was a swell dame, but Annette was the only girl I ever seen that had me ga-ga. I'd give—well, all I ain't got to know for sure what became of her."

  S
oftly the ape-man dropped to the trail behind the two men.

  "I think I know," he said.

  At the sound of his voice they wheeled suddenly and faced him, surprise written large upon the face of each.

  "Who the devil are you and where did you come from?" demanded Brown, while Tibbs stood with his lower lip dropped, staring wide- eyed at the strange figure of the ape-man. "And what do you think you know?" concluded the American.

  "I think I know how your two women disappeared."

  "Say," exclaimed Brown, "what are you, anyway? This country's got me nuts —people disappearing and you jumping out of thin air like a spook. Are you a friend or what?"

  "Friend," replied Tarzan.

  "What you runnin' around undressed for?" demanded Brown. "Ain't you got no clothes, or ain't you got no sense?"

  "I am Tarzan of the Apes."

  "Yeah? Well, I'm glad to meet you, Tarzan; I'm Napoleon. But spill what you know about Annette—about both the dames. What got 'em? Was it Sborov? But of course you don't know nothin' about Sborov."

  "I know about Sborov," replied Tarzan. "I know about the accident that wrecked your plane. I know the Princess Sborov was murdered. I think I know what happened to Lady Greystoke and Annette."

  Brown looked puzzled. "I don't know how you got hep to all this, but you know plenty. Now tell me what happened to the two dames."

  "The Kavuru got them. You are in Kavuru country."

  "What are Kavuru?" demanded Brown.

  "A tribe of savage white men. They make a practice of stealing women, presumably for use in some religious rite."

  "Where do they hang out?"

  "I don't know. I was looking for their village when I heard about the accident to your ship. I believe I can find it soon. It lies in a very wild country. The Kavuru have secrets they wish to guard; so no one is allowed to approach their village."

  "What secrets?" inquired Brown.

  "They are believed to have discovered some sort of an elixir of life, something that will make old people young again."

  Brown whistled. "So that's it? They were the people we were looking for."

  "You were looking for the Kavuru?" asked Tarzan, incredulously.

  "The old dame was looking for the formula for that elixir stuff," explained Brown, "and so am I, now that she is dead—someone has to carry on, you know," he added rather lamely. "But say, how did you hear of the accident to the ship? How could you hear about it? We ain't seen or talked to no one." Suddenly Brown ceased speaking. His face darkened in anger.

  "Sborov!" he exclaimed.

  The prince, rounding a bend in the trail, halted when he saw Brown. The American started toward him, menacingly, an oath on his lips.

  Sborov turned to run. "Stop him!" he screamed to Tarzan. "You promised you wouldn't let him harm me."

  The ape-man sprang after Brown and seized him by the arm. "Stop!" he commanded. "I promised the man."

  Brown attempted to wrench himself free. "Let me go, you fool," he growled. "Mind your own business." Then he aimed a heavy blow at Tarzan's jaw with his free hand. The ape-man ducked, and the clenched fist only grazed his cheek. The shadow of a grim smile touched his lips as he lifted the American above his head and shook him; then he tossed him into the thick underbrush that bordered the trail.

  "You forgot Waterloo, Napoleon," he said.

  Upon the branch of a tree above, little Nkima danced and chattered; and as Brown was extricating himself with difficulty from the thorny embrace of the bushes, Nkima gathered a ripe and odorous fruit and hurled it at him.

  Tibbs looked on in consternation, believing that Brown had made a dangerous enemy in this giant white savage; and when he saw Tarzan step toward the struggling American he anticipated nothing less than death for both of them.

  But there was no anger in the breast of the ape-man as he again seized the aviator and lifted him out of the entangling bushes and set him upon his feet in the trail.

  "Do not again forget," he said, quietly, "that I am Tarzan of the Apes or that when I give an order it is to be obeyed."

  Brown looked the ape-man squarely in the eyes for a moment before he spoke. "I know when I'm licked," he said. "But I still don't savvy why you wouldn't let me kill that louse—he sure has it coming to him."

  "Your quarrels are of no importance," said the ape-man; "but it is important to locate Lady Greystoke."

  "And Annette," added Brown.

  "Yes," agreed Tarzan. "Also that you three men get back to civilization where you belong. You do not belong in the jungle. The world is full of fools who go places where they do not belong, causing other people worry and trouble."

  "If Hi may make so bold as to say so, sir, Hi quite agree with you," ventured Tibbs. "Hi shall be jolly well pleased to get hout of this bally old jungle."

  "Then don't any of you start killing off the others," advised Tarzan. "The more of you there are the better chance you will have of getting out, and three are none too many. Many times you will find it necessary for some one to stand watch at night; so the more there are the easier it will be for all."

  "Not for mine with that prince guy along!" said Brown, emphatically. "The last time he stood guard he tried to kill me with a hatchet, and he'd have done it if it hadn't been for old Tibbsy. If you say I don't kill him, I don't kill—unless he forces me to it; but I don't travel with him, and that's that."

  "We'll get him back here," said Tarzan, "and have a talk with him. I think I can promise you he'll be good. He was in a blue funk when I found him —a lion had been stalking him—and I think he'd promise anything not to be left alone again."

  "Well," agreed Brown, grudgingly, "get him back and see what he says."

  Tarzan called Sborov's name aloud several times, but there was no answer.

  "'E couldn't have gotten so very far," said Tibbs. "'E must 'ear you, sir."

  Tarzan shrugged. "He'll come back when he gets more afraid of the jungle than he is of Brown."

  "Are we going to sit here waiting for him?" asked the American.

  "No," replied Tarzan. "I am going on to find the Kavuru village. My own people are somewhere to the east. I'll take you to them. Sborov will most certainly follow and catch up with us after we stop for the night. Come."

  27. MADMEN AND LEOPARDS

  As Jane reached the foot of the ladder leading down into the dark interior of the kivalike structure in the village of the Kavuru her ears caught a faint sound as of someone or something moving at no great distance from her.

  Instantly she froze to silent immobility, listening. She thought that she heard the sound of breathing. Dim light from the opening above relieved the darkness immediately about her, and she knew that she must be revealed to whatever was in the room with her. Then a voice spoke, spoke in English with a familiar accent.

  "Oh, madame! It is you? They got you, too?"

  "Annette! You are here? Then it was not the prince who took you away?"

  "No, madame. It was a terrible white man who held me powerless by some black magic. I could not cry out for help. I could not resist. I simply went to him, and he took me up into the trees and carried me away."

  "One of them took me in the same way, Annette. They possess a hypnotic power beyond anything that I had ever dreamed might be possible. Have they harmed you, Annette?"

  "I have only been terribly frightened," replied the girl, "because I don't know what they intend to do with me."

  Jane's eyes had become accustomed to the gloom of the dark chamber. Now she could discern more of the details of the interior. She saw a circular room with a litter of dry grasses and leaves on the hard dirt floor. Against one wall Annette was sitting on a little pallet of these same leaves and grasses that she had evidently scraped together. There was no one else, nothing else, in the room.

  "What do you suppose they are going to do with us?" asked Jane. "Haven't they given you any clue at all?"

  "None, madame, absolutely none. Nor you? They have told you nothing?"
/>   "The man who captured me was named Ogdli. He told me that much and that he was taking me to some one called Kavandavanda, who, I gathered, is their chief. When I asked more questions he threatened to cut my tongue out, saying that Kavandavanda did not need my tongue. They are most unpleasant people."

  "Ah, madame, that does not describe them—they are terrifying. If only Monsieur Brown was here. You have seen him lately, madame? He is well?"

  "Quite well, Annette, in body; but his heart was sick. He was worrying about you."

  "I think he loves me very much, madame."

  "I am sure of it, Annette."

  "And I love him. It is terrible to have this happen now when we might have been so happy. Now we never shall be. I shall never see him again. I have that feeling, madame. It is what you call a—a premonition. I shall die here in this awful village—soon."

  "Nonsense, Annette! You mustn't say such things; you mustn't even think them. What we should be thinking about is escape—and nothing else."

  "Escape? What chance have we, madame?"

  "I saw no guard at the entrance to this hole when they brought me in," explained Jane; "and if there is none posted at night we can certainly get to the roof. From there on will depend upon what obstacles we find in our way, but it will be worth trying."

  "Whatever you say, madame."

  "Tonight then, Annette."

  "S-sh, madame! Some one is coming."

  Footsteps sounded plainly on the roof above them now, and then the opening through which they had entered was darkened by the form of a man.

  "Come up!" he commanded; "both of you."

  Jane sighed. "Our poor little plan," she bemoaned.

  "What difference does it make?" asked Annette. "It would not have succeeded anyway."

  "We shall have to try something else later," insisted the other, as she started to ascend the ladder.

  "It will fail, too," prophesied Annette gloomily. "We shall die here —both of us—tonight, perhaps."

  As they stepped out onto the roof Jane recognized the warrior as the one who had captured her. "Now what, Ogdli?" she asked. "Are you going to set us free?"