CHAPTER XVTHE MAP OF BLOOD
AFTER Esteban and Owaza had buried the gold they returned to the spot where they had left their five boys, and proceeding with them to the river made camp for the night. Here they discussed their plans, deciding to abandon the balance of the party to reach the coast as best they might, while they returned to another section of the coast where they could recruit sufficient porters to carry out the gold.
“Instead of going way back to the coast for porters,” asked Esteban, “why could we not just as well recruit them from the nearest village?”
“Such men would not go with us way to the coast,” replied Owaza. “They are not porters. At best they would but carry our gold to the next village.”
“Why not that, then?” inquired the Spaniard. “And at the next village we could employ porters to carry us on still farther, until we could employ other men to continue on with us.”
Owaza shook his head. “It is a good plan, Bwana, but we cannot do it, because we have nothing with which to pay our porters.”
Esteban scratched his head. “You are right,” he said, “but it would save us that damnable trip to the coast and return.” They sat for some moments in silence, thinking. “I have it!” at last exclaimed the Spaniard. “Even if we had the porters now we could not go directly to the coast for fear of meeting Flora Hawkes’s party—we must let them get out of Africa before we take the gold to the coast. Two months will be none too long to wait, for they are going to have a devil of a time getting to the coast at all with that bunch of mutinous porters. While we are waiting, therefore, let us take one of the ingots of gold to the nearest point at which we can dispose of it for trade goods. Then we can return and hire porters to carry it from village to village.”
“The Bwana speaks words of wisdom,” replied Owaza. “It is not as far to the nearest trading post as it is back to the coast, and thus we shall not only save time, but also many long, hard marches.”
“In the morning, then, we shall return and unearth one of the ingots, but we must be sure that none of your men accompanies us, for no one must know until it is absolutely necessary where the gold is buried. When we return for it, of course, then others must know, too, but inasmuch as we shall be with it constantly thereafter there will be little danger of its being taken from us.”
And so upon the following morning the Spaniard and Owaza returned to the buried treasure, where they unearthed a single ingot.
Before he left the spot the Spaniard drew upon the inner surface of the leopard skin that he wore across his shoulder an accurate map of the location of the treasure, making the drawing with a sharpened stick, dipped in the blood of a small rodent he had killed for the purpose. From Owaza he obtained the native names of the river and of such landmarks as were visible from the spot at which the treasure was buried, together with as explicit directions as possible for reaching the place from the coast. This information, too, he wrote below the map, and when he had finished he felt much relieved from the fear that should aught befall Owaza he might never be able to locate the gold.
When Jane Clayton reached the coast to take passage for London she found awaiting her a wire stating that her father was entirely out of danger, and that there was no necessity for her coming to him. She, therefore, after a few days of rest, turned her face again toward home, and commenced to retrace the steps of the long, hot, weary journey that she had just completed. When, finally, she arrived at the bungalow she learned, to her consternation, that Tarzan of the Apes had not yet returned from his expedition to the city of Opar after the gold from the treasure vaults. She found Korak, evidently much exercised, but unwilling to voice a doubt as to the ability of his father to care for himself. She learned of the escape of the golden lion with regret, for she knew that Tarzan had become much attached to the noble beast.
It was the second day after her return that the Waziri who had accompanied Tarzan returned without him. Then, indeed, was her heart filled with fear for her lord and master. She questioned the men carefully, and when she learned from them that Tarzan had suffered another accident that had again affected his memory, she immediately announced that she would set out on the following day in search of him, commanding the Waziri who had just returned to accompany her.
Korak attempted to dissuade her, but failing in that insisted upon accompanying her.
“We must not all be away at once,” she said. “You remain here, my son. If I fail I shall return and let you go.”
“I cannot let you go alone, Mother,” replied Korak.
“I am not alone when the Waziri are with me,” she laughed. “And you know perfectly well, boy, that I am as safe anywhere in the heart of Africa with them as I am here at the ranch.”
“Yes, yes, I suppose so,” he replied, “but I wish I might go, or that Meriem were here.”
“Yes, I, too, wish that Meriem were here,” replied Lady Greystoke. “However, do not worry. You know that my jungle-craft, while not equal to that of Tarzan or Korak, is by no means a poor asset, and that, surrounded by the loyalty and bravery of the Waziri, I shall be safe.”
“I suppose you are right,” replied Korak, “but I do not like to see you go without me.”
And so, notwithstanding his objections, Jane Clayton set out the next morning with fifty Waziri warriors in search of her savage mate.
When Esteban and Owaza had not returned to camp as they had promised, the other members of the party were at first inclined to anger, which was later replaced by concern, not so much for the safety of the Spaniard but for fear that Owaza might have met with an accident and would not return to take them in safety to the coast, for of all the blacks he alone seemed competent to handle the surly and mutinous carriers. The negroes scouted the idea that Owaza had become lost and were more inclined to the opinion that he and Esteban had deliberately deserted them. Luvini, who acted as head-man in Owaza’s absence, had a theory of his own.
“Owaza and the Bwana have gone after the ivory raiders alone. By trickery they may accomplish as much as we could have accomplished by force, and there will only be two among whom to divide the ivory.”
“But how may two men overcome a band of raiders?” inquired Flora, skeptically.
“You do not know Owaza,” answered Luvini. “If he can gain the ears of their slaves he will win them over, and when the Arabs see that he who accompanies Owaza and who fights at the head of the mutinous slaves is Tarzan of the Apes, they will flee in terror.”
“I believe he is right,” muttered Kraski, “it sounds just like the Spaniard,” and then suddenly he turned upon Luvini. “Can you lead us to the raiders’ camp?” he demanded.
“Yes,” replied the negro.
“Good,” exclaimed Kraski; “and now, Flora, what do you think of this plan? Let us send a swift runner to the raiders, warning them against Owaza and the Spaniard, and telling them that the latter is not Tarzan of the Apes, but an impostor. We can ask them to capture and hold the two until we come, and after we arrive we can make such further plans as the circumstances permit. Very possibly we can carry out our original design after we have once entered their camp as friends.”
“Yes, that sounds good,” replied Flora, “and it is certainly crooked enough—just like you, yourself.”
The Russian blushed. “ ‘Birds of a feather’—” he quoted.
The girl shrugged her shoulders indifferently, but Bluber, who, with Peebles and Throck, had been silent listeners to the conversation, blustered.
“Vot do you mean birds vit fedders?” he demanded. “Who vas a crook? I tell you, Mister Carl Kraski, I am an honest man, dot is von t’ing dot no man don’t say about Adolph Bluber, he is a crook.”
“O shut up,” snapped Kraski, “if there’s anything in it you’ll be for it—if there’s no risk. These fellows stole the ivory themselves, and killed a lot of people, probably, to do it. In addition they have taken slaves, which we will free.”
“O vell,” said Bluber, “if it is fair und eqvitable, vy, all right, but just remember, Mister Kraski, dotIam an honest man.”
“Blime!” exclaimed Throck, “we’re all honest; I’ve never seen such a downy bunch of parsons in all me life.”
“Sure we’re honest,” roared John Peebles, “and anyone ’at says we ain’t gets ’is bally ’ead knocked off, and ’ere we are, ’n that’s that.”
The girl smiled wearily. “You can always tell honest men,” she said. “They go around telling the world how honest they are. But never mind that; the thing now is to decide whether we want to follow Kraski’s suggestion or not. It’s something we’ve got all pretty well to agree upon before we undertake it. There are five of us. Let’s leave it to a vote. Do we, or don’t we?”
“Will the men accompany us?” asked Kraski, turning to Luvini.
“If they are promised a share of the ivory they will,” replied the black.
“How many are in favor of Carl’s plan?” asked Flora.
They were unanimously for it, and so it was decided that they would undertake the venture, and a half hour later a runner was despatched on the trail to the raiders’ camp with a message for the raider chief. Shortly after, the party broke camp and took up its march in the same direction.
A week later, when they reached the camp of the raiders they found that their messenger had arrived safely and that they were expected. Esteban and Owaza had not put in an appearance nor had anything been seen or heard of them in the vicinity. The result was that the Arabs were inclined to be suspicious and surly, fearing that the message: brought to them had been but a ruse to permit this considerable body of whites and armed blacks to enter their stockade in safety.
Jane Clayton and her Waziri moving rapidly, picked up the spoor of Flora Hawkes’s safari at the camp where the Waziri had last seen Esteban, whom they still thought to have been Tarzan of the Apes. Following the plainly marked trail, and moving much more rapidly than the Hawkes safari, Jane and the Waziri made camp within a mile of the ivory raiders only about a week after the Hawkes party had arrived and where they still remained, waiting either for the coming of Owaza and Esteban, or for a propitious moment in which they could launch their traitorous assault upon the Arabs. In the meantime, Luvini and some of the other blacks had succeeded in secretly spreading the propaganda of revolt among the slaves of the Arabs. Though he reported his progress daily to Flora Hawkes, he did not report the steady growth and development of a little private plan of his own, which contemplated, in addition to the revolt of the slaves, and the slaying of the Arabs, the murder of all the whites in the camp, with the exception of Flora Hawkes, whom Luvini wished to preserve either for himself or for sale to some black sultan of the north. It was Luvini’s shrewd plan to first slay the Arabs, with the assistance of the whites, and then to fall upon the whites and slay them, after their body servants had stolen their weapons from them.
That Luvini would have been able to carry out his plan with ease there is little doubt, had it not been for the loyalty and affection of a young black boy attached to Flora Hawkes for her personal service.
The young white woman, notwithstanding the length to which she would go in the satisfaction of her greed and avarice, was a kind and indulgent mistress. The kindnesses she had shown this ignorant little black boy were presently to return her dividends far beyond her investment.
Luvini had been to her upon a certain afternoon to advise her that all was ready, and that the revolt of the slaves and the murder of the Arabs should take place that evening, immediately after dark. The cupidity of the whites had long been aroused by the store of ivory possessed by the raiders, with the result that all were more than eager for the final step in the conspiracy that would put them in possession of considerable wealth.
It was just before the evening meal that the little negro boy crept into Flora Hawkes’s tent. He was very wide-eyed, and terribly frightened.
“What is the matter?” she demanded.
“S-sh!” he cautioned. “Do not let them hear you speak to me, but put your ear close to me while I tell you in a low voice what Luvini is planning.”
The girl bent her head close to the lips of the little black. “You have been kind to me,” he whispered, “and now that Luvini would harm you I have come to tell you.”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Flora, in a low voice.
“I mean that Luvini, after the Arabs are killed, has given orders that the black boys kill all the white men and take you prisoner. He intends to either keep you for himself or to sell you in the north for a great sum of money.”
“But how do you know all this?” demanded the girl.
“All the blacks in camp know it,” replied the boy. “I was to have stolen your rifle and your pistol, as each of the boys will steal the weapons of his white master.”
The girl sprang to her feet. “I’ll teach that nigger a lesson,” she cried, seizing her pistol and striding toward the flap of the tent.
The boy seized her about the knees and held her. “No! no!” he cried. “Do not do it. Do not say anything. It will only mean that they will kill the white men sooner and take you prisoner just the same. Every black boy in the camp is against you. Luvini has promised that the ivory shall be divided equally among them all. They are ready now, and if you should threaten Luvini, or if in any other way they should learn that you were aware of the plot, they would fall upon you immediately.”
“What do you expect me to do then?” she asked.
“There is but one hope, and that is in flight. You and the white men must escape into the jungle. Not even I may accompany you.”
The girl stood looking at the little boy in silence for a moment, and then finally she said, “Very well, I will do as you say. You have saved my life. Perhaps I may never be able to repay you, and perhaps, again, I may. Go, now, before suspicion alights upon you.”
The black withdrew from the tent, crawling beneath the back wall to avoid being seen by any of his fellows who were in the center of the camp from which the front of the tent was in plain view. Immediately he was gone Flora walked casually into the open and went to Kraski’s tent, which the Russian occupied in common with Bluber. She found the two men and in low whispers apprised them of what the black had told her. Kraski then called Peebles and Throck, it being decided that they should give no outward sign of holding any suspicion that aught was wrong. The Englishmen were for jumping in upon the blacks and annihilating them, but Flora Hawkes dissuaded them from any such rash act by pointing out how greatly they were outnumbered by the natives, and how hopeless it would be to attempt to overpower them.
Bluber, with his usual cunning and shrewdness which inclined always to double dealing where there was the slightest possibility for it, suggested that they secretly advise the Arabs of what they had learned, and joining forces with them take up as strong a position in the camp as possible and commence to fire into the blacks without waiting for their attack.
Again Flora Hawkes vetoed the suggestion. “It will not do,” she said, “for the Arabs are at heart as much our enemies as the blacks. If we were successful in subduing the niggers it would be but a question of minutes before the Arabs knew every detail of the plot that we had laid against them, after which our lives would not be worththat,” and she snapped her fingers.
“I guess Flora is right, as usual,” growled Peebles, “but what in ’ell are we goin’ to do wanderin’ around in this ’ere jungle without no niggers to hunt for us, or cook for us, or carry things for us, or find our way for us, that’s wot I’d like to know, and ’ere we are, ’n that’s that.”
“No, I guess there ain’t nothin’ else to do,” said Throck; “but blime if I likes to run away, says I, leastwise not for no dirty niggers.”
There came then to the ears of the whites, rumbling from the far distance in the jungle, the roar of a lion.
“Oi! Oi!” cried Bluber. “Ve go out all alone in dot jungle?Mein Gott!I just as soon stay here und get killed like a vite man.”
“They won’t kill you like a white man,” said Kraski. “They’ll torture you if you stay.”
Bluber wrung his hands, and the sweat of fear rolled down his oily face. “Oi!vy did I done it? vy did I done it?” he wailed. “Vy didn’t I stay home in London vere I belong?”
“Shut up!” snapped Flora. “Don’t you know that if you do anything to arouse the suspicion of these fellows they will be on us at once? There is only one thing for us to do and that is to wait until they precipitate the attack upon the Arabs. We will still have our weapons, for they do not plan to steal them from us until after the Arabs are killed. In the confusion of the fight, we must make our escape into the jungle, and after that—God knows—and God help us.”
“Yes,” blubbered Bluber, who was in a blue funk, “Gotthelp us!”
A moment later Luvini came to them. “All is ready, Bwanas,” he said. “As soon as the evening meal has been eaten, be in readiness. You will hear a shot, that will be the signal. Then open fire upon the Arabs.”
“Good,” said Kraski; “we have just been talking about it and we have decided that we will take our stand near the gate to prevent their escape.”
“It is well,” said Luvini, “but you must remain here.” He was addressing Flora. “It would not be safe for you to be where there is to be fighting. Remain here in your tent, and we will confine the fighting to the other side of the village and possibly to the gate, if any of them makes a break for escape.”
“All right,” said Flora, “I will remain here where it is safe.”
Satisfied that things could not have worked into his hands to better advantage the black left them, and presently the entire camp was occupied with the evening meal. There was an atmosphere of restraint, and high, nervous tension throughout the entire camp that must have been noticeable, even to the Arabs, though they, alone of the entire company, were ignorant as to its cause. Bluber was so terrified that he could not eat, but sat white and trembling with his eyes roving wildly about the camp—first to the blacks, then to the Arabs, and then to the gate, the distance to which he must have measured a hundred times as he sat there waiting for the shot that was to be the signal for the massacre that was to send him out into the jungle to be, he surely thought, the immediate prey of the first hunting lion that passed.
Peebles and Throck ate their meal stolidly, much to Bluber’s disgust. Kraski, being of a highly nervous temperament, ate but little, but he showed no signs of fear. Nor did Flora Hawkes, though at heart she realized the hopelessness of their situation.
Darkness had fallen. Some of the blacks and Arabs were still eating, when suddenly the silence was shattered by the sharp staccato report of a rifle. An Arab sank silently to the earth. Kraski rose and grasped Flora by the arm. “Come!” he cried.
Followed by Peebles and Throck, and preceded by Bluber, to whose feet fright had lent wings, they hurried toward the gate of the palisade.
By now the air was filled with the hoarse cries of fighting men and the report of rifles. The Arabs, who had numbered but about a dozen, were putting up a game fight, and being far better marksmen than the blacks, the issue of the battle was still in doubt when Kraski opened the gate and the five whites fled into the darkness of the jungle.
The outcome of the fight within the camp could not have been other than it was, for so greatly did the blacks outnumber the Arabs, that eventually, notwithstanding their poor marksmanship, they succeeded in shooting down the last of the nomads of the north. Then it was that Luvini turned his attention to the other whites only to discover that they had fled the village. The black realized two things instantly. One was that someone had betrayed him, and the other, that the whites could not have gone far in the short time since they had left the camp.
Calling his warriors about him he explained to them what had happened, and impressing upon them that the whites, if permitted to escape, would eventually return with reinforcements to punish the blacks, he aroused his followers, who now numbered over two hundred warriors, to the necessity of setting out immediately upon the trail of the fugitives and overtaking them before they could carry word even to a neighboring village, the nearest of which was not more than a day’s march distant.
CHAPTER XVITHE DIAMOND HOARD
AS the primitive smoke bombs filled the throne room of the Tower of the Emperors with their suffocating fumes, the Gomangani clustered about Tarzan begging him to save them, for they, too, had seen the massed Bolgani before every entrance and the great body of them that awaited in the gardens and upon the terrace without.
“Wait a minute,” said Tarzan, “until the smoke is thick enough to hide our movements from the Bolgani, and then we will rush the windows overlooking the terrace, for they are nearer the east gate than any other exit, and thus some of us will have a better chance for escape.”
“I have a better plan,” said the old man. “When the smoke conceals us, follow me. There is one exit that is unguarded, probably because they do not dream that we would use it. When I passed over the dais behind the throne I took occasion to note that there were no Bolgani guarding it.”
“Where does it lead?” asked Tarzan.
“Into the basement of the Tower of Diamonds—the tower in which I discovered you. That portion of the palace is nearest to the east gate, and if we can reach it before they suspect our purpose there will be little doubt that we can reach the forest at least.”
“Splendid!” ejaculated the ape-man. “It will not be long now before the smoke hides us from the Bolgani.”
In fact it was so thick by this time that the occupants of the throne room were finding difficulty in breathing. Many of them were coughing and choking and the eyes of all were watering from the effects of the acrid smoke. And yet they were not entirely hidden from the observation of the watchers all about them.
“I don’t know how much more of this we can stand,” said Tarzan. “I have about all I care for, now.”
“Itisthickening up a bit,” said the old man. “Just a moment more and I think we can make it unseen.”
“I can stand it no longer,” cried La. “I am suffocating and I am half-blinded.”
“Very well,” said the old man; “I doubt if they can see us now. It is pretty thick. Come, follow me;” and he led the way up the steps of the dais and through an aperture behind the thrones—a small opening hidden by hangings. The old man went first, and then La, followed by Tarzan and Jad-bal-ja, who had about reached the limit of his endurance and patience, so that it had been with difficulty that Tarzan had restrained him, and who now was voicing his anger in deep growls which might have apprised the Bolgani of their avenue of escape. Behind Tarzan and the lion crowded the coughing Gomangani; but because Jad-bal-ja was just in front of them they did not crowd as closely upon the party ahead of them as they probably would have done otherwise.
The aperture opened into a dark corridor which led down a flight of rough steps to a lower level, and then straight through utter darkness for the rather considerable distance which separated the Tower of Diamonds from the Tower of the Emperors. So great was their relief at escaping the dense smoke of the throne room that none of the party minded the darkness of the corridor, but followed patiently the lead of the old man who had explained that the first stairs down which they had passed were the only obstacles to be encountered in the tunnel.
At the corridor’s end the old man halted before a heavy door, which after considerable difficulty he managed to open.
“Wait a moment,” he said, “until I find a cresset and make a light.”
They heard him moving about beyond the doorway for a moment and then a dim light flared, and presently the wick in a cresset flickered. In the dim rays Tarzan saw before them a large rectangular chamber, the great size of which was only partially suggested in the wavering light of the cresset.
“Get them all in,” said the old man, “and close the door;” and when that had been done he called to Tarzan. “Come!” he said. “Before we leave this chamber I want to show you such a sight as no other human eyes have ever rested upon.”
He led him to the far side of the chamber where, in the light of the cresset, Tarzan saw tier after tier of shelves, upon which were stacked small sacks made of skins. The old man set the cresset upon one of the shelves and taking a sack opened it and spilled a portion of the contents into the palm of his hand. “Diamonds,” he said. “Each of these packages weighs five pounds and each contains diamonds. They have been accumulating them for countless ages, for they mine far more than they can use themselves. In their legends is the belief that some day the Atlantians will return and they can sell the diamonds to them. And so they continue to mine them and store them as though there was a constant and ready market for them. Here, take one of the bags with you,” he said. He handed one to Tarzan and another to La.
“I do not believe that we shall ever leave the valley alive, but we might;” and he took a third bag for himself.
From the diamond vault the old man led them up a primitive ladder to the floor above, and quickly to the main entrance of the Tower. Only two heavy doors, bolted upon the inside, now lay between them and the terrace, a short distance beyond which the east gate swung open. The old man was about to open the doors when Tarzan stopped him.
“Wait a moment,” he said, “until the rest of the Gomangani come. It takes them some time to ascend the ladder. When they are all here behind us, swing the doors open, and you and La, with this ten or a dozen Gomangani that are immediately around us, make a break for the gate. The rest of us will bring up the rear and hold the Bolgani off in case they attack us. Get ready,” he added a moment later, “I think they are all up.”
Carefully Tarzan explained to the Gomangani the plan he had in mind, and then, turning to the old man, he commanded “Now!” The bolt slipped, the doors swung open, and simultaneously the entire party started at a run toward the east gate.
The Bolgani, who were still massed about the throne room, were not aware that their victims had eluded them until Tarzan, bringing up the rear with Jad-bal-ja was passing through the east gate. Then the Bolgani discovered him, and immediately set up a hue and cry that brought several hundred of them on a mad run in pursuit.
“Here they come,” cried Tarzan to the others, “make a run of it—straight down the valley toward Opar, La.”
“And you?” demanded the young woman.
“I shall remain a moment with the Gomangani, and attempt to punish these fellows.”
La stopped in her tracks. “I shall not go a step without you, Tarzan of the Apes,” she said. “Too great already are the risks you have taken for me. No; I shall not go without you.”
The ape-man shrugged. “As you will,” he said. “Here they come.”
With great difficulty he rallied a portion of the Gomangani who, once through the gate, seemed imbued but with a single purpose, and that to put as much distance between the Palace of Diamonds and themselves as possible. Perhaps fifty warriors rallied to his call, and with these he stood in the gateway toward which several hundred Bolgani were now charging.
The old man came and touched Tarzan on the arm. “You had better fly,” he said. “The Gomangani will break and run at the first assault.”
“We will gain nothing by flying,” said Tarzan, “for we should only lose what we have gained with the Gomangani, and then we should have the whole valley about us like hornets.”
He had scarcely finished speaking when one of the Gomangani cried: “Look! Look! They come;” and pointed along the trail into the forest.
“And just in time, too,” remarked Tarzan, as he saw the first of a swarm of Gomangani pouring out of the forest toward the east gate. “Come!” he cried to the advancing blacks, “the Bolgani are upon us. Come, and avenge your wrongs!” Then he turned, and calling to the blacks around him, leaped forward to meet the onrushing gorilla-men. Behind them wave after wave of Gomangani rolled through the east gate of the Palace of Diamonds, carrying everything before them to break at last like surf upon the wavering wall of Bolgani that was being relentlessly hurled back against the palace walls.
The shouting and the fighting and the blood worked Jad-bal-ja into such a frenzy of excitement that Tarzan with difficulty restrained him from springing upon friend and foe alike, with the result that it required so much of the ape-man’s time to hold in leash his ferocious ally that he was able to take but little part in the battle, yet he saw that it was going his way, and that, but for the occurrence of some untoward event, the complete defeat of the Bolgani was assured.
Nor were his deductions erroneous. So frantic were the Gomangani with the blood-lust of revenge and so enthused by the first fruits of victory, that they went fully as mad as Jad-bal-ja himself. They neither gave nor asked quarter, and the fighting ended only when they could find no more Bolgani to slay.
The fighting over, Tarzan, with La and the old man, returned to the throne room, from which the fumes of the smoke bombs had now disappeared. To them they summoned the head-man of each village, and when they had assembled before the dais, above which stood the three whites, with the great, black-maned lion Jad-bal-ja, Tarzan addressed them.
“Gomangani of the Valley of the Palace of Diamonds,” he said, “you have this night won your freedom from the tyrannical masters that have oppressed you since far beyond the time the oldest of you may remember. For so many countless ages have you been oppressed that there has never developed among you a leader capable of ruling you wisely and justly. Therefore you must select a ruler from another race than your own.”
“You! You!” cried voice after voice as the head-men clamored to make Tarzan of the Apes their king.
“No,” cried the ape-man, holding up his hand for silence, “but there is one here who has lived long among you, and who knows your habits and your customs, your hopes and your needs better than any other. If he will stay with you and rule you he will, I am sure, make you a good king,” and Tarzan pointed to the old man.
The old man looked at Tarzan in bewilderment. “But I want to go away from here,” he said; “I want to get back into the world of civilization, from which I have been buried all these years.”
“You do not know what you are talking about,” replied the ape-man. “You have been gone very long. You will find no friends left back there from whence you came. You will find deceit, and hypocrisy, and greed, and avarice, and cruelty. You will find that no one will be interested in you and that you will be interested in no one there. I, Tarzan of the Apes, have left my jungle and gone to the cities built by men, but always I have been disgusted and been glad to return to my jungle—to the noble beasts that are honest in their loves and in their hates—to the freedom and genuineness of nature.
“If you return you will be disappointed, and you will realize that you have thrown away an opportunity of accomplishing a work well worth your while. These poor creatures need you. I cannot remain to guide them out of darkness, but you may, and you may so mold them that they will be an industrious, virtuous, and kindly people, not untrained, however, in the arts of warfare, for when we have that which is good, there will always be those who are envious and who, if they are more powerful than we, will attempt to come and take what we have by force. Therefore, you must train your people to protect their country and their rights, and to protect them they must have the ability and the knowledge to fight successfully, and the weapons wherewith to wage their wars.”
“You speak the truth, Tarzan of the Apes,” replied the old man. “There is nothing for me in that other world, so, if the Gomangani wish me to be their chief I will remain here.”
The head-men, when he questioned them, assured Tarzan that if they could not have him for chief they would be very glad to have the old man, whom they all knew, either by sight or reputation, as one who had never perpetrated any cruelties upon the Gomangani.
The few surviving Bolgani who had taken refuge in various parts of the palace were sought out and brought to the throne room. Here they were given the option of remaining in the valley as slaves, or leaving the country entirely. The Gomangani would have fallen upon them and slain them, but that their new king would not permit.
“But where shall we go if we leave the Valley of the Palace of Diamonds?” asked one of the Bolgani. “Beyond the city of Opar we know not what exists, and in Opar may we find only enemies.”
Tarzan sat eyeing them quizzically, and in silence. For a long time he did not speak, while several of the Gomangani head-men, and others of the Bolgani, made suggestions for the future of the gorilla-men. Finally the ape-man arose and nodded toward the Bolgani.
“There are about a hundred of you,” he said. “You are powerful creatures and should be ferocious fighters. Beside me sits La, the High Priestess and queen of Opar. A wicked priest, usurping her power, has driven her from her throne, but tomorrow we march upon Opar with the bravest Gomangani of the Valley of the Palace of Diamonds, and there we punish Cadj, the High Priest, who has proven a traitor to his queen; and La, once more, ascends the throne of Opar. But where the seeds of treason have once been broadcast the plant may spring up at any time and where least expected. It will be long, therefore, before La of Opar may have full confidence in the loyalty of her people—a fact which offers you an opportunity and a country. Accompany us, therefore, to Opar, and fight with us to replace La upon her throne, and then, when the fighting is over, remain there as La’s bodyguard to protect her, not only from enemies without, but from enemies within.”
The Bolgani discussed the matter for several minutes, and then one of them came to Tarzan. “We will do as you suggest,” he said.
“And you will be loyal to La?” asked the ape-man.
“A Bolgani is never a traitor,” replied the gorilla-man.
“Good!” exclaimed Tarzan, “and you, La, are you satisfied with this arrangement?”
“I accept them in my service,” replied she.
Early the next morning Tarzan and La set out with three thousand Gomangani and a hundred Bolgani to punish the traitorous Cadj. There was little or no attempt at strategy or deception. They simply marched down through the Valley of the Palace of Diamonds, descended the rocky ravine into the valley of Opar, and made straight for the rear of the palace of La.
A little gray monkey, sitting among the vines and creepers upon the top of the temple walls, saw them coming. He cocked his head, first upon one side and then upon the other, and became so interested and excited that for a moment he forgot to scratch his belly—an occupation he had been assiduously pursuing for some time. The closer the column approached the more excited became Manu, the monkey, and when he realized vaguely the great numbers of the Gomangani he was fairly beside himself, but the last straw that sent him scampering madly back to the palace of Opar was the sight of the Bolgani—the ogres of his little world.
Cadj was in the courtyard of the inner temple, where at sunrise he had performed a sacrifice to the Flaming God. With Cadj were a number of the lesser priests, and Oah and her priestesses. That there was dissension among them was evident by the scowling faces fully as much as by the words which Oah directed at Cadj.
“Once again have you gone too far, Cadj,” she cried bitterly. “Only may the High Priestess of the Flaming God perform the act of sacrifice. Yet again and again do you persist in defiling the sacred knife with your unworthy hand.”
“Silence, woman,” growled the High Priest. “I am Cadj, King of Opar, High Priest of the Flaming God. You are what you are only because of the favor of Cadj. Try not my patience too far or you shall indeed know the feel of the sacred knife.” There could be no mistaking the sinister menace in his words. Several of those about him could ill conceal the shocked surprise they felt at his sacrilegious attitude toward their High Priestess. However little they thought of Oah, the fact remained that she had been elevated to the highest place among them, and those that believed that La was dead, as Cadj had taken great pains to lead them all to believe, gave in full to Oah the reverence which her high office entitled her to.
“Have a care, Cadj,” warned one of the older priests. “There is a limit beyond which not even you may pass.”
“You dare threaten me?” cried Cadj, the maniacal fury of fanaticism gleaming in his eyes. “You dare threatenme, Cadj, the High Priest of the Flaming God?” And as he spoke he leaped toward the offending man, the sacrificial knife raised menacingly above his head, and just at that moment a little gray monkey came chattering and screaming through an embrasure in the wall overlooking the court of the temple.
“The Bolgani! The Bolgani!” he shrieked. “They come! They come!”
Cadj stopped and wheeled toward Manu, the hand that held the knife dropping at his side. “You saw them, Manu?” he asked. “You are speaking the truth? If this is another of your tricks you will not live to play another joke upon Cadj.”
“I speak the truth,” chattered the little monkey. “I saw them with my own eyes.”
“How many of them are there?” asked Cadj. “And how near to Opar have they come?”
“They are as many as the leaves upon the trees,” replied Manu, “and they are already close to the temple wall—the Bolgani and the Gomangani, they come as the grasses that grow in the ravines where it is cool and damp.”
Cadj turned and raised his face toward the sun, and throwing back his head gave voice to a long-drawn scream that ended in a piercing shriek. Three times he voiced the hideous cry, and then with a command to the others in the court to follow him he started at a brisk trot toward the palace proper. As Cadj directed his steps toward the ancient avenue, upon which the palace of Opar faced, there issued from every corridor and doorway groups of the knurled and hairy men of Opar, armed with their heavy bludgeons and their knives. Screaming and chattering in the trees above them were a score or more of little gray monkeys.
“Not here,” they cried, “not here,” and pointed toward the south side of the city.
Like an undisciplined mob the horde of priests and warriors reentered the palace at Cadj’s heels, and retraced their steps toward the opposite side of the edifice. Here they scrambled to the summit of the lofty wall which guards the palace, just as Tarzan’s forces came to a halt outside.
“Rocks! Rocks!” screamed Cadj, and in answer to his commands the women in the courtyard below commenced to gather the loose fragments of stone that had crumbled from the wall and from the palace, and to toss them up to the warriors above.
“Go away!” screamed Cadj to the army outside his gates. “Go away! I am Cadj, High Priest of the Flaming God, and this is his temple. Defile not the temple of the Flaming God or you shall know his wrath.”
Tarzan stepped forward a little ahead of the others, and raised his hand for silence.
“La, your High Priestess and your queen, is here,” he cried to the Oparians upon the wall. “Cadj is a traitor and an impostor. Open your gates and receive your queen. Give up the traitors to justice, and no harm will befall you; but refuse La entry to her city and we shall take by force and with bloodshed that which belongs to La rightfully.”
As he ceased speaking La stepped to his side that all her people might see her, and immediately there were scattering cries for La and a voice or two raised against Cadj. Evidently realizing that it would not take much to turn the scale against him, Cadj shrieked to his men to attack, and simultaneously launched a stone at Tarzan. Only the wondrous agility that he possessed saved the ape-man, and the missile passed by, and striking a Gomangani over the heart, felled him. Instantly a shower of missiles fell upon them, and then Tarzan called to his followers to charge. Roaring and growling, the Bolgani and the Gomangani leaped forward to the attack. Cat-like they ran up the rough wall in the face of the menacing bludgeons above. Tarzan, who had chosen Cadj as his objective, was among the first to reach the summit. A hairy, crooked warrior struck at him with a bludgeon, and hanging to the summit of the wall with one hand, Tarzan caught the weapon in the other and wrested it from his assailant. At the same time he saw Cadj turn and disappear into the courtyard beyond. Then Tarzan drew himself to the top where he was immediately engaged by two other warriors of Opar. With the weapon he had wrested from their fellow he knocked them to right and left, so great an advantage his great height and strength gave him over them, and then, remembering only that Cadj, who was the ringleader of the revolt against La, must not be permitted to escape Tarzan leaped to the pavement below just as the High Priest disappeared through an archway at the opposite end of the courtyard.
Some priests and priestesses sought to impede his progress. Seizing one of the former by the ankles he swung the body in circles about him, clearing his own pathway as he ran for the opposite end of the courtyard, and there he halted and wheeled and putting all the strength of his great muscles into the effort, he swung the body of the priest once more and hurled it back into the faces of his pursuers.
Without waiting to note the effect of his act he turned again and continued in pursuit of Cadj. The fellow kept always just ahead of him, because Cadj knew his way through the labyrinthian mazes of the palace and temple and courtyards better than Tarzan. That the trail was leading toward the inner courts of the temple Tarzan was convinced. There Cadj would find easy ingress to the pits beneath the palace and a hiding place from which it would be difficult to dislodge him, so numerous and winding were the dark subterranean tunnels. And so Tarzan put forth every effort to reach the sacrificial court in time to prevent Cadj from gaining the comparative safety of the underground passages; but as he finally leaped through the doorway into the court, a noose, cunningly laid, closed about one of his ankles and he was hurled heavily to the ground. Almost instantly a number of the crooked little men of Opar leaped upon him, where he lay, half-stunned by the fall, and before he had fully regained his faculties they had trussed him securely.
Only about half conscious, he felt them raise him from the ground and carry him, and presently he was deposited upon a cold stone surface. Then it was that full consciousness returned to him, and he realized that he lay outstretched once more upon the sacrificial altar of the inner court of the Temple of the Flaming God and above him stood Cadj, the High Priest, his cruel face contorted in a grimace of hate and the anticipation of revenge long deferred.
“At last!” gloated the creature of hate. “This time, Tarzan of the Apes, you shall know the fury not of the Flaming God, but of Cadj, the man; nor shall there be any wait nor any interference.”
He swung the sacrificial knife high above his head. Beyond the point of the knife Tarzan of the Apes saw the summit of the courtyard wall, and just surmounting it the head and shoulders of a mighty, black-maned lion.
“Jad-bal-ja!” he cried. “Kill! Kill!”
Cadj hesitated, his knife poised on high. He saw the direction of the ape-man’s eyes and followed them, and in that instant the golden lion leaped to the pavement, and with two mighty bounds was upon the High Priest of Opar. The knife clattered to the floor and the great jaws closed upon the horrid face.
The lesser priests who had seized Tarzan, and who had remained to witness his death at the hands of Cadj, had fled screaming from the court the instant that the golden lion had leaped upon their master, and now Tarzan and Jad-bal-ja and the corpse of Cadj were the sole occupants of the sacrificial courtyard of the temple.
“Come, Jad-bal-ja,” commanded Tarzan; “let no one harm Tarzan of the Apes.”
An hour later the victorious forces of La were overrunning the ancient palace and temples of Opar. The priests and warriors who had not been killed had quickly surrendered and acknowledged La as their queen and High Priestess, and now at La’s command the city was being searched for Tarzan and Cadj. It was thus that La, herself, leading a searching party, entered the sacrificial courtyard.
The sight that met her eyes brought her to a sudden halt, for there, bound upon the altar, lay Tarzan of the Apes, and standing above him, his snarling face and gleaming eyes glaring directly at her was Jad-bal-ja, the golden lion.
“Tarzan!” shrieked La, taking a step toward the altar. “Cadj has had his way at last. God of my fathers have pity on me—Tarzan is dead.”
“No,” cried the ape-man; “far from dead. Come and release me. I am only bound, but had it not been for Jad-bal-ja I had been dead beneath your sacrificial knife.”
“Thank God,” cried La, and started to approach the altar, but paused before the menacing attitude of the growling lion.
“Down!” cried Tarzan, “let her approach;” and Jad-bal-ja lay down beside his master and stretched his whiskered chin across the ape-man’s breast.
La came then, and picking up the sacrificial knife, cut the bonds that held the lord of the jungle captive, and then she saw beyond the altar the corpse of Cadj.
“Your worst enemy is dead,” said Tarzan, “and for his death you may thank Jad-bal-ja, as I thank him for my life. You should rule now in peace and happiness and in friendship with the people of the Valley of the Palace of Diamonds.”
That night Tarzan and the Bolgani and the head-men of the Gomangani, and the priests and priestesses of Opar, sat in the great banquet hall of the Palace of Opar, as the guests of La, the queen, and ate from the golden platters of the ancient Atlantians—platters that had been fashioned on a continent that exists today only in the legends of antiquity. And the following morning Tarzan and Jad-bal-ja set forth upon their return journey to the land of the Waziri and home.