Chapter 15
Down the Ugambi
Halfway between the Ugambi and the village of the Waganwazam, Tarzan
came upon the pack moving slowly along his old spoor. Mugambi
could scarce believe that the trail of the Russian and the mate of
his savage master had passed so close to that of the pack.
It seemed incredible that two human beings should have come so close
to them without having been detected by some of the marvellously
keen and alert beasts; but Tarzan pointed out the spoor of the two
he trailed, and at certain points the black could see that the man
and the woman must have been in hiding as the pack passed them,
watching every move of the ferocious creatures.
It had been apparent to Tarzan from the first that Jane and Rokoff
were not travelling together. The spoor showed distinctly that the
young woman had been a considerable distance ahead of the Russian
at first, though the farther the ape-man continued along the trail
the more obvious it became that the man was rapidly overhauling
his quarry.
At first there had been the spoor of wild beasts over the footprints
of Jane Clayton, while upon the top of all Rokoff's spoor showed
that he had passed over the trail after the animals had left their
records upon the ground. But later there were fewer and fewer
animal imprints occurring between those of Jane's and the Russian's
feet, until as he approached the river the ape-man became aware
that Rokoff could not have been more than a few hundred yards behind
the girl.
He felt they must be close ahead of him now, and, with a little
thrill of expectation, he leaped rapidly forward ahead of the pack.
Swinging swiftly through the trees, he came out upon the river-bank
at the very point at which Rokoff had overhauled Jane as she
endeavoured to launch the cumbersome dugout.
In the mud along the bank the ape-man saw the footprints of the
two he sought, but there was neither boat nor people there when he
arrived, nor, at first glance, any sign of their whereabouts.
It was plain that they had shoved off a native canoe and embarked
upon the bosom of the stream, and as the ape-man's eye ran swiftly
down the course of the river beneath the shadows of the overarching
trees he saw in the distance, just as it rounded a bend that shut
it off from his view, a drifting dugout in the stern of which was
the figure of a man.
Just as the pack came in sight of the river they saw their agile
leader racing down the river's bank, leaping from hummock to
hummock of the swampy ground that spread between them and a little
promontory which rose just where the river curved inward from their
sight.
To follow him it was necessary for the heavy, cumbersome apes to
make a wide detour, and Sheeta, too, who hated water. Mugambi
followed after them as rapidly as he could in the wake of the great
white master.
A half-hour of rapid travelling across the swampy neck of land and
over the rising promontory brought Tarzan, by a short cut, to the
inward bend of the winding river, and there before him upon the
bosom of the stream he saw the dugout, and in its stern Nikolas
Rokoff.
Jane was not with the Russian.
At sight of his enemy the broad scar upon the ape-man's brow burned
scarlet, and there rose to his lips the hideous, bestial challenge
of the bull-ape.
Rokoff shuddered as the weird and terrible alarm fell upon his
ears. Cowering in the bottom of the boat, his teeth chattering
in terror, he watched the man he feared above all other creatures
upon the face of the earth as he ran quickly to the edge of the
water.
Even though the Russian knew that he was safe from his enemy, the
very sight of him threw him into a frenzy of trembling cowardice,
which became frantic hysteria as he saw the white giant dive
fearlessly into the forbidding waters of the tropical river.
With steady, powerful strokes the ape-man forged out into the stream
toward the drifting dugout. Now Rokoff seized one of the paddles
lying in the bottom of the craft, and, with terrorwide eyes still
glued upon the living death that pursued him, struck out madly in
an effort to augment the speed of the unwieldy canoe.
And from the opposite bank a sinister ripple, unseen by either man,
moving steadily toward the half-naked swimmer.
Tarzan had reached the stern of the craft at last. One hand upstretched
grasped the gunwale. Rokoff sat frozen with fear, unable to move
a hand or foot, his eyes riveted upon the face of his Nemesis.
Then a sudden commotion in the water behind the swimmer caught his
attention. He saw the ripple, and he knew what caused it.
At the same instant Tarzan felt mighty jaws close upon his right
leg. He tried to struggle free and raise himself over the side of
the boat. His efforts would have succeeded had not this unexpected
interruption galvanized the malign brain of the Russian into instant
action with its sudden promise of deliverance and revenge.
Like a venomous snake the man leaped toward the stern of the boat,
and with a single swift blow struck Tarzan across the head with the
heavy paddle. The ape-man's fingers slipped from their hold upon
the gunwale.
There was a short struggle at the surface, and then a swirl of
waters, a little eddy, and a burst of bubbles soon smoothed out by
the flowing current marked for the instant the spot where Tarzan
of the Apes, Lord of the Jungle, disappeared from the sight of men
beneath the gloomy waters of the dark and forbidding Ugambi.
Weak from terror, Rokoff sank shuddering into the bottom of the
dugout. For a moment he could not realize the good fortune that
had befallen him--all that he could see was the figure of a silent,
struggling white man disappearing beneath the surface of the river
to unthinkable death in the slimy mud of the bottom.
Slowly all that it meant to him filtered into the mind of the
Russian, and then a cruel smile of relief and triumph touched his
lips; but it was short-lived, for just as he was congratulating
himself that he was now comparatively safe to proceed upon his
way to the coast unmolested, a mighty pandemonium rose from the
river-bank close by.
As his eyes sought the authors of the frightful sound he saw
standing upon the shore, glaring at him with hate-filled eyes, a
devil-faced panther surrounded by the hideous apes of Akut, and in
the forefront of them a giant black warrior who shook his fist at
him, threatening him with terrible death.
The nightmare of that flight down the Ugambi with the hideous
horde racing after him by day and by night, now abreast of him, now
lost in the mazes of the jungle far behind for hours and once for
a whole day, only to reappear again upon his trail grim, relentless,
and terrible, reduced the Russian from a strong and robust man to
an emaciated, white-haired, fear-gibbering thing before ever the
bay and the ocean broke upon his hopeless vision.
Past populous villages he had fled. Time and again warriors had
put out in their canoes to intercept him, but each time the hideous
horde had swept into view to send the terrified natives shrieking
back to the shore to lose themselves in the jungle.
Nowhere in his flight had he seen aught of Jane Clayton. Not once
had his eyes rested upon her since that moment at the river's brim
his hand had closed upon the rope attached to the bow of her dugout
and he had believed her safely in his power again, only to be
thwarted an instant later as the girl snatched up a heavy express
rifle from the bottom of the craft and levelled it full at his
breast.
Quickly he had dropped the rope then and seen her float away beyond
his reach, but a moment later he had been racing up-stream toward
a little tributary in the mouth of which was hidden the canoe
in which he and his party had come thus far upon their journey in
pursuit of the girl and Anderssen.
What had become of her?
There seemed little doubt in the Russian's mind, however, but that
she had been captured by warriors from one of the several villages
she would have been compelled to pass on her way down to the sea.
Well, he was at least rid of most of his human enemies.
But at that he would gladly have had them all back in the land of
the living could he thus have been freed from the menace of the
frightful creatures who pursued him with awful relentlessness,
screaming and growling at him every time they came within sight
of him. The one that filled him with the greatest terror was the
panther--the flaming-eyed, devil-faced panther whose grinning jaws
gaped wide at him by day, and whose fiery orbs gleamed wickedly out
across the water from the Cimmerian blackness of the jungle nights.
The sight of the mouth of the Ugambi filled Rokoff with renewed
hope, for there, upon the yellow waters of the bay, floated the
Kincaid at anchor. He had sent the little steamer away to coal
while he had gone up the river, leaving Paulvitch in charge of her,
and he could have cried aloud in his relief as he saw that she had
returned in time to save him.
Frantically he alternately paddled furiously toward her and rose
to his feet waving his paddle and crying aloud in an attempt to
attract the attention of those on board. But loud as he screamed
his cries awakened no answering challenge from the deck of the
silent craft.
Upon the shore behind him a hurried backward glance revealed the
presence of the snarling pack. Even now, he thought, these manlike
devils might yet find a way to reach him even upon the deck of the
steamer unless there were those there to repel them with firearms.
What could have happened to those he had left upon the Kincaid?
Where was Paulvitch? Could it be that the vessel was deserted,
and that, after all, he was doomed to be overtaken by the terrible
fate that he had been flying from through all these hideous days
and nights? He shivered as might one upon whose brow death has
already laid his clammy finger.
Yet he did not cease to paddle frantically toward the steamer,
and at last, after what seemed an eternity, the bow of the dugout
bumped against the timbers of the Kincaid. Over the ship's side
hung a monkey-ladder, but as the Russian grasped it to ascend to
the deck he heard a warning challenge from above, and, looking up,
gazed into the cold, relentless muzzle of a rifle.
After Jane Clayton, with rifle levelled at the breast of Rokoff,
had succeeded in holding him off until the dugout in which she had
taken refuge had drifted out upon the bosom of the Ugambi beyond
the man's reach, she had lost no time in paddling to the swiftest
sweep of the channel, nor did she for long days and weary nights
cease to hold her craft to the most rapidly moving part of the river,
except when during the hottest hours of the day she had been wont
to drift as the current would take her, lying prone in the bottom
of the canoe, her face sheltered from the sun with a great palm
leaf.
Thus only did she gain rest upon the voyage; at other times she
continually sought to augment the movement of the craft by wielding
the heavy paddle.
Rokoff, on the other hand, had used little or no intelligence in
his flight along the Ugambi, so that more often than not his craft
had drifted in the slow-going eddies, for he habitually hugged the
bank farthest from that along which the hideous horde pursued and
menaced him.
Thus it was that, though he had put out upon the river but a short
time subsequent to the girl, yet she had reached the bay fully two
hours ahead of him. When she had first seen the anchored ship upon
the quiet water, Jane Clayton's heart had beat fast with hope and
thanksgiving, but as she drew closer to the craft and saw that it
was the Kincaid, her pleasure gave place to the gravest misgivings.
It was too late, however, to turn back, for the current that
carried her toward the ship was much too strong for her muscles.
She could not have forced the heavy dugout upstream against it,
and all that was left her was to attempt either to make the shore
without being seen by those upon the deck of the Kincaid, or to
throw herself upon their mercy--otherwise she must be swept out to
sea.
She knew that the shore held little hope of life for her, as she
had no knowledge of the location of the friendly Mosula village to
which Anderssen had taken her through the darkness of the night of
their escape from the Kincaid.
With Rokoff away from the steamer it might be possible that by
offering those in charge a large reward they could be induced to
carry her to the nearest civilized port. It was worth risking--if
she could make the steamer at all.
The current was bearing her swiftly down the river, and she found
that only by dint of the utmost exertion could she direct the
awkward craft toward the vicinity of the Kincaid. Having reached
the decision to board the steamer, she now looked to it for aid,
but to her surprise the decks appeared to be empty and she saw no
sign of life aboard the ship.
The dugout was drawing closer and closer to the bow of the vessel,
and yet no hail came over the side from any lookout aboard. In a
moment more, Jane realized, she would be swept beyond the steamer,
and then, unless they lowered a boat to rescue her, she would be
carried far out to sea by the current and the swift ebb tide that
was running.
The young woman called loudly for assistance, but there was no
reply other than the shrill scream of some savage beast upon the
jungle-shrouded shore. Frantically Jane wielded the paddle in an
effort to carry her craft close alongside the steamer.
For a moment it seemed that she should miss her goal by but a few
feet, but at the last moment the canoe swung close beneath the
steamer's bow and Jane barely managed to grasp the anchor chain.
Heroically she clung to the heavy iron links, almost dragged from
the canoe by the strain of the current upon her craft. Beyond
her she saw a monkey-ladder dangling over the steamer's side. To
release her hold upon the chain and chance clambering to the
ladder as her canoe was swept beneath it seemed beyond the pale of
possibility, yet to remain clinging to the anchor chain appeared
equally as futile.
Finally her glance chanced to fall upon the rope in the bow of the
dugout, and, making one end of this fast to the chain, she succeeded
in drifting the canoe slowly down until it lay directly beneath
the ladder. A moment later, her rifle slung about her shoulders,
she had clambered safely to the deserted deck.
Her first task was to explore the ship, and this she did, her rifle
ready for instant use should she meet with any human menace aboard
the Kincaid. She was not long in discovering the cause of the
apparently deserted condition of the steamer, for in the forecastle
she found the sailors, who had evidently been left to guard the
ship, deep in drunken slumber.
With a shudder of disgust she clambered above, and to the best of
her ability closed and made fast the hatch above the heads of the
sleeping guard. Next she sought the galley and food, and, having
appeased her hunger, she took her place on deck, determined that
none should board the Kincaid without first having agreed to her
demands.
For an hour or so nothing appeared upon the surface of the river to
cause her alarm, but then, about a bend upstream, she saw a canoe
appear in which sat a single figure. It had not proceeded far in
her direction before she recognized the occupant as Rokoff, and
when the fellow attempted to board he found a rifle staring him in
the face.
When the Russian discovered who it was that repelled his advance he
became furious, cursing and threatening in a most horrible manner;
but, finding that these tactics failed to frighten or move the
girl, he at last fell to pleading and promising.
Jane had but a single reply for his every proposition, and that
was that nothing would ever persuade her to permit Rokoff upon the
same vessel with her. That she would put her threats into action
and shoot him should he persist in his endeavour to board the ship
he was convinced.
So, as there was no other alternative, the great coward dropped
back into his dugout and, at imminent risk of being swept to sea,
finally succeeded in making the shore far down the bay and upon the
opposite side from that on which the horde of beasts stood snarling
and roaring.
Jane Clayton knew that the fellow could not alone and unaided bring
his heavy craft back up-stream to the Kincaid, and so she had no
further fear of an attack by him. The hideous crew upon the shore
she thought she recognized as the same that had passed her in the
jungle far up the Ugambi several days before, for it seemed quite
beyond reason that there should be more than one such a strangely
assorted pack; but what had brought them down-stream to the mouth
of the river she could not imagine.
Toward the day's close the girl was suddenly alarmed by the shouting
of the Russian from the opposite bank of the stream, and a moment
later, following the direction of his gaze, she was terrified to
see a ship's boat approaching from up-stream, in which, she felt
assured, there could be only members of the Kincaid's missing
crew--only heartless ruffians and enemies.
