Chapter 7
Akut, discovering that the boy was not close behind him, turned back
to search for him. He had gone but a short distance in return when
he was brought to a sudden and startled halt by sight of a strange
figure moving through the trees toward him. It was the boy, yet
could it be? In his hand was a long spear, down his back hung an
oblong shield such as the black warriors who had attacked them had
worn, and upon ankle and arm were bands of iron and brass, while
a loin cloth was twisted about the youth's middle. A knife was
thrust through its folds.
When the boy saw the ape he hastened forward to exhibit his trophies.
Proudly he called attention to each of his newly won possessions.
Boastfully he recounted the details of his exploit.
"With my bare hands and my teeth I killed him," he said. "I would
have made friends with them but they chose to be my enemies. And
now that I have a spear I shall show Numa, too, what it means to
have me for a foe. Only the white men and the great apes, Akut,
are our friends. Them we shall seek, all others must we avoid or
kill. This have I learned of the jungle."
They made a detour about the hostile village, and resumed their
journey toward the coast. The boy took much pride in his new weapons
and ornaments. He practiced continually with the spear, throwing
it at some object ahead hour by hour as they traveled their loitering
way, until he gained a proficiency such as only youthful muscles
may attain to speedily. All the while his training went on under
the guidance of Akut. No longer was there a single jungle spoor
but was an open book to the keen eyes of the lad, and those other
indefinite spoor that elude the senses of civilized man and are
only partially appreciable to his savage cousin came to be familiar
friends of the eager boy. He could differentiate the innumerable
species of the herbivora by scent, and he could tell, too, whether
an animal was approaching or departing merely by the waxing or
waning strength of its effluvium. Nor did he need the evidence
of his eyes to tell him whether there were two lions or four up
wind,--a hundred yards away or half a mile.
Much of this had Akut taught him, but far more was instinctive
knowledge--a species of strange intuition inherited from his father.
He had come to love the jungle life. The constant battle of wits
and senses against the many deadly foes that lurked by day and by
night along the pathway of the wary and the unwary appealed to the
spirit of adventure which breathes strong in the heart of every
red-blooded son of primordial Adam. Yet, though he loved it, he
had not let his selfish desires outweigh the sense of duty that had
brought him to a realization of the moral wrong which lay beneath
the adventurous escapade that had brought him to Africa. His love
of father and mother was strong within him, too strong to permit
unalloyed happiness which was undoubtedly causing them days of
sorrow. And so he held tight to his determination to find a port
upon the coast where he might communicate with them and receive
funds for his return to London. There he felt sure that he could
now persuade his parents to let him spend at least a portion
of his time upon those African estates which from little careless
remarks dropped at home he knew his father possessed. That would
be something, better at least than a lifetime of the cramped and
cloying restrictions of civilization.
And so he was rather contented than otherwise as he made his way
in the direction of the coast, for while he enjoyed the liberty
and the savage pleasures of the wild his conscience was at the
same time clear, for he knew that he was doing all that lay in his
power to return to his parents. He rather looked forward, too, to
meeting white men again--creatures of his own kind--for there had
been many occasions upon which he had longed for other companionship
than that of the old ape. The affair with the blacks still rankled
in his heart. He had approached them in such innocent good fellowship
and with such childlike assurance of a hospitable welcome that
the reception which had been accorded him had proved a shock to
his boyish ideals. He no longer looked upon the black man as his
brother; but rather as only another of the innumerable foes of the
bloodthirsty jungle--a beast of prey which walked upon two feet
instead of four.
But if the blacks were his enemies there were those in the world
who were not. There were those who always would welcome him with
open arms; who would accept him as a friend and brother, and with
whom he might find sanctuary from every enemy. Yes, there were
always white men. Somewhere along the coast or even in the depths
of the jungle itself there were white men. To them he would be
a welcome visitor. They would befriend him. And there were also
the great apes--the friends of his father and of Akut. How glad
they would be to receive the son of Tarzan of the Apes! He hoped
that he could come upon them before he found a trading post upon the
coast. He wanted to be able to tell his father that he had known
his old friends of the jungle, that he had hunted with them, that
he had joined with them in their savage life, and their fierce,
primeval ceremonies--the strange ceremonies of which Akut had tried
to tell him. It cheered him immensely to dwell upon these happy
meetings. Often he rehearsed the long speech which he would make
to the apes, in which he would tell them of the life of their former
king since he had left them.
At other times he would play at meeting with white men. Then
he would enjoy their consternation at sight of a naked white boy
trapped in the war togs of a black warrior and roaming the jungle
with only a great ape as his companion.
And so the days passed, and with the traveling and the hunting and
the climbing the boy's muscles developed and his agility increased
until even phlegmatic Akut marvelled at the prowess of his pupil.
And the boy, realizing his great strength and revelling in it,
became careless. He strode through the jungle, his proud head
erect, defying danger. Where Akut took to the trees at the first
scent of Numa, the lad laughed in the face of the king of beasts
and walked boldly past him. Good fortune was with him for a long
time. The lions he met were well-fed, perhaps, or the very boldness
of the strange creature which invaded their domain so filled them
with surprise that thoughts of attack were banished from their minds
as they stood, round-eyed, watching his approach and his departure.
Whatever the cause, however, the fact remains that on many occasions
the boy passed within a few paces of some great lion without arousing
more than a warning growl.
But no two lions are necessarily alike in character or temper. They
differ as greatly as do individuals of the human family. Because
ten lions act similarly under similar conditions one cannot say
that the eleventh lion will do likewise--the chances are that he
will not. The lion is a creature of high nervous development. He
thinks, therefore he reasons. Having a nervous system and brains
he is the possessor of temperament, which is affected variously
by extraneous causes. One day the boy met the eleventh lion. The
former was walking across a small plain upon which grew little
clumps of bushes. Akut was a few yards to the left of the lad who
was the first to discover the presence of Numa.
"Run, Akut," called the boy, laughing. "Numa lies hid in the bushes
to my right. Take to the trees. Akut! I, the son of Tarzan,
will protect you," and the boy, laughing, kept straight along his
way which led close beside the brush in which Numa lay concealed.
The ape shouted to him to come away, but the lad only flourished
his spear and executed an improvised war dance to show his contempt
for the king of beasts. Closer and closer to the dread destroyer
he came, until, with a sudden, angry growl, the lion rose from his
bed not ten paces from the youth. A huge fellow he was, this lord
of the jungle and the desert. A shaggy mane clothed his shoulders.
Cruel fangs armed his great jaws. His yellow-green eyes blazed
with hatred and challenge.
The boy, with his pitifully inadequate spear ready in his hand,
realized quickly that this lion was different from the others he
had met; but he had gone too far now to retreat. The nearest tree
lay several yards to his left--the lion could be upon him before
he had covered half the distance, and that the beast intended to
charge none could doubt who looked upon him now. Beyond the lion
was a thorn tree--only a few feet beyond him. It was the nearest
sanctuary but Numa stood between it and his prey.
The feel of the long spear shaft in his hand and the sight of the
tree beyond the lion gave the lad an idea--a preposterous idea--a
ridiculous, forlorn hope of an idea; but there was no time now
to weigh chances--there was but a single chance, and that was the
thorn tree. If the lion charged it would be too late--the lad must
charge first, and to the astonishment of Akut and none the less of
Numa, the boy leaped swiftly toward the beast. Just for a second
was the lion motionless with surprise and in that second Jack Clayton
put to the crucial test an accomplishment which he had practiced
at school.
Straight for the savage brute he ran, his spear held butt foremost
across his body. Akut shrieked in terror and amazement. The lion
stood with wide, round eyes awaiting the attack, ready to rear
upon his hind feet and receive this rash creature with blows that
could crush the skull of a buffalo.
Just in front of the lion the boy placed the butt of his spear
upon the ground, gave a mighty spring, and, before the bewildered
beast could guess the trick that had been played upon him, sailed
over the lion's head into the rending embrace of the thorn tree--safe
but lacerated.
Akut had never before seen a pole-vault. Now he leaped up and
down within the safety of his own tree, screaming taunts and boasts
at the discomfited Numa, while the boy, torn and bleeding, sought
some position in his thorny retreat in which he might find the
least agony. He had saved his life; but at considerable cost in
suffering. It seemed to him that the lion would never leave, and
it was a full hour before the angry brute gave up his vigil and
strode majestically away across the plain. When he was at a safe
distance the boy extricated himself from the thorn tree; but not
without inflicting new wounds upon his already tortured flesh.
It was many days before the outward evidence of the lesson he had
learned had left him; while the impression upon his mind was one
that was to remain with him for life. Never again did he uselessly
tempt fate.
He took long chances often in his after life; but only when the
taking of chances might further the attainment of some cherished
end--and, always thereafter, he practiced pole-vaulting.
For several days the boy and the ape lay up while the former recovered
from the painful wounds inflicted by the sharp thorns. The great
anthropoid licked the wounds of his human friend, nor, aside from
this, did they receive other treatment, but they soon healed, for
healthy flesh quickly replaces itself.
When the lad felt fit again the two continued their journey toward
the coast, and once more the boy's mind was filled with pleasurable
anticipation.
And at last the much dreamed of moment came. They were passing
through a tangled forest when the boy's sharp eyes discovered
from the lower branches through which he was traveling an old but
well-marked spoor--a spoor that set his heart to leaping--the spoor
of man, of white men, for among the prints of naked feet were the
well defined outlines of European made boots. The trail, which
marked the passage of a good-sized company, pointed north at right
angles to the course the boy and the ape were taking toward the
coast.
Doubtless these white men knew the nearest coast settlement. They
might even be headed for it now. At any rate it would be worth
while overtaking them if even only for the pleasure of meeting again
creatures of his own kind. The lad was all excitement; palpitant
with eagerness to be off in pursuit. Akut demurred. He wanted
nothing of men. To him the lad was a fellow ape, for he was the
son of the king of apes. He tried to dissuade the boy, telling
him that soon they should come upon a tribe of their own folk where
some day when he was older the boy should be king as his father had
before him. But Jack was obdurate. He insisted that he wanted to
see white men again. He wanted to send a message to his parents.
Akut listened and as he listened the intuition of the beast suggested
the truth to him--the boy was planning to return to his own kind.
The thought filled the old ape with sorrow. He loved the boy as
he had loved the father, with the loyalty and faithfulness of a
hound for its master. In his ape brain and his ape heart he had
nursed the hope that he and the lad would never be separated. He
saw all his fondly cherished plans fading away, and yet he remained
loyal to the lad and to his wishes. Though disconsolate he gave in
to the boy's determination to pursue the safari of the white men,
accompanying him upon what he believed would be their last journey
together.
The spoor was but a couple of days old when the two discovered
it, which meant that the slow-moving caravan was but a few hours
distant from them whose trained and agile muscles could carry their
bodies swiftly through the branches above the tangled undergrowth
which had impeded the progress of the laden carriers of the white
men.
The boy was in the lead, excitement and anticipation carrying him
ahead of his companion to whom the attainment of their goal meant
only sorrow. And it was the boy who first saw the rear guard of
the caravan and the white men he had been so anxious to overtake.
Stumbling along the tangled trail of those ahead a dozen heavily
laden blacks who, from fatigue or sickness, had dropped behind
were being prodded by the black soldiers of the rear guard, kicked
when they fell, and then roughly jerked to their feet and hustled
onward. On either side walked a giant white man, heavy blonde beards
almost obliterating their countenances. The boy's lips formed a
glad cry of salutation as his eyes first discovered the whites--a
cry that was never uttered, for almost immediately he witnessed
that which turned his happiness to anger as he saw that both the
white men were wielding heavy whips brutally upon the naked backs
of the poor devils staggering along beneath loads that would have
overtaxed the strength and endurance of strong men at the beginning
of a new day.
Every now and then the rear guard and the white men cast apprehensive
glances rearward as though momentarily expecting the materialization
of some long expected danger from that quarter. The boy had paused
after his first sight of the caravan, and now was following slowly
in the wake of the sordid, brutal spectacle. Presently Akut came
up with him. To the beast there was less of horror in the sight
than to the lad, yet even the great ape growled beneath his breath
at useless torture being inflicted upon the helpless slaves. He
looked at the boy. Now that he had caught up with the creatures
of his own kind, why was it that he did not rush forward and greet
them? He put the question to his companion.
"They are fiends," muttered the boy. "I would not travel with
such as they, for if I did I should set upon them and kill them the
first time they beat their people as they are beating them now;
but," he added, after a moment's thought, "I can ask them the
whereabouts of the nearest port, and then, Akut, we can leave them."
The ape made no reply, and the boy swung to the ground and started
at a brisk walk toward the safari. He was a hundred yards away,
perhaps, when one of the whites caught sight of him. The man gave
a shout of alarm, instantly levelling his rifle upon the boy and
firing. The bullet struck just in front of its mark, scattering
turf and fallen leaves against the lad's legs. A second later the
other white and the black soldiers of the rear guard were firing
hysterically at the boy.
Jack leaped behind a tree, unhit. Days of panic ridden flight
through the jungle had filled Carl Jenssen and Sven Malbihn with
jangling nerves and their native boys with unreasoning terror.
Every new note from behind sounded to their frightened ears the
coming of The Sheik and his bloodthirsty entourage. They were
in a blue funk, and the sight of the naked white warrior stepping
silently out of the jungle through which they had just passed had
been sufficient shock to let loose in action all the pent nerve energy
of Malbihn, who had been the first to see the strange apparition.
And Malbihn's shout and shot had set the others going.
When their nervous energy had spent itself and they came to take
stock of what they had been fighting it developed that Malbihn
alone had seen anything clearly. Several of the blacks averred
that they too had obtained a good view of the creature but their
descriptions of it varied so greatly that Jenssen, who had seen
nothing himself, was inclined to be a trifle skeptical. One of
the blacks insisted that the thing had been eleven feet tall, with
a man's body and the head of an elephant. Another had seen THREE
immense Arabs with huge, black beards; but when, after conquering
their nervousness, the rear guard advanced upon the enemy's
position to investigate they found nothing, for Akut and the boy
had retreated out of range of the unfriendly guns.
Jack was disheartened and sad. He had not entirely recovered from
the depressing effect of the unfriendly reception he had received
at the hands of the blacks, and now he had found an even more
hostile one accorded him by men of his own color.
"The lesser beasts flee from me in terror," he murmured, half
to himself, "the greater beasts are ready to tear me to pieces at
sight. Black men would kill me with their spears or arrows. And
now white men, men of my own kind, have fired upon me and driven
me away. Are all the creatures of the world my enemies? Has the
son of Tarzan no friend other than Akut?"
The old ape drew closer to the boy.
"There are the great apes," he said. "They only will be the friends
of Akut's friend. Only the great apes will welcome the son of
Tarzan. You have seen that men want nothing of you. Let us go
now and continue our search for the great apes--our people."
The language of the great apes is a combination of monosyllabic
gutturals, amplified by gestures and signs. It may not be literally
translated into human speech; but as near as may be this is what
Akut said to the boy.
The two proceeded in silence for some time after Akut had spoken.
The boy was immersed in deep thought--bitter thoughts in which
hatred and revenge predominated. Finally he spoke: "Very well,
Akut," he said, "we will find our friends, the great apes."
The anthropoid was overjoyed; but he gave no outward demonstration
of his pleasure. A low grunt was his only response, and a moment
later he had leaped nimbly upon a small and unwary rodent that had
been surprised at a fatal distance from its burrow. Tearing the
unhappy creature in two Akut handed the lion's share to the lad.
