Chapter 11
Korak, returning from the hunt, heard the jabbering of the excited
monkeys. He knew that something was seriously amiss. Histah,
the snake, had doubtless coiled his slimy folds about some careless
Manu. The youth hastened ahead. The monkeys were Meriem's friends.
He would help them if he could. He traveled rapidly along the
middle terrace. In the tree by Meriem's shelter he deposited his
trophies of the hunt and called aloud to her. There was no answer.
He dropped quickly to a lower level. She might be hiding from him.
Upon a great branch where Meriem often swung at indolent ease he
saw Geeka propped against the tree's great bole. What could it
mean? Meriem had never left Geeka thus alone before. Korak picked
up the doll and tucked it in his belt. He called again, more
loudly; but no Meriem answered his summons. In the distance the
jabbering of the excited Manus was growing less distinct.
Could their excitement be in any way connected with Meriem's
disappearance? The bare thought was enough. Without waiting for
Akut who was coming slowly along some distance in his rear, Korak
swung rapidly in the direction of the chattering mob. But a few
minutes sufficed to overtake the rearmost. At sight of him they
fell to screaming and pointing downward ahead of them, and a moment
later Korak came within sight of the cause of their rage.
The youth's heart stood still in terror as he saw the limp body of
the girl across the hairy shoulders of a great ape. That she was
dead he did not doubt, and in that instant there arose within him
a something which he did not try to interpret nor could have hade
he tried; but all at once the whole world seemed centered in that
tender, graceful body, that frail little body, hanging so pitifully
limp and helpless across the bulging shoulders of the brute.
He knew then that little Meriem was his world--his sun, his moon,
his stars--with her going had gone all light and warmth and happiness.
A groan escaped his lips, and after that a series of hideous roars,
more bestial than the beasts', as he dropped plummet-like in mad
descent toward the perpetrator of this hideous crime.
The bull ape turned at the first note of this new and menacing
voice, and as he turned a new flame was added to the rage and
hatred of The Killer, for he saw that the creature before him was
none other than the king ape which had driven him away from the
great anthropoids to whom he had looked for friendship and asylum.
Dropping the body of the girl to the ground the bull turned to
battle anew for possession of his expensive prize; but this time
he looked for an easy conquest. He too recognized Korak. Had he
not chased him away from the amphitheater without even having to
lay a fang or paw upon him? With lowered head and bulging shoulders
he rushed headlong for the smooth-skinned creature who was daring
to question his right to his prey.
They met head on like two charging bulls, to go down together
tearing and striking. Korak forgot his knife. Rage and bloodlust
such as his could be satisfied only by the feel of hot flesh between
rending fangs, by the gush of new life blood against his bare skin,
for, though he did not realize it, Korak, The Killer, was fighting
for something more compelling than hate or revenge--he was a great
male fighting another male for a she of his own kind.
So impetuous was the attack of the man-ape that he found his hold
before the anthropoid could prevent him--a savage hold, with strong
jaws closed upon a pulsing jugular, and there he clung, with closed
eyes, while his fingers sought another hold upon the shaggy throat.
It was then that Meriem opened her eyes. At the sight before her
they went wide.
"Korak!" she cried. "Korak! My Korak! I knew that you would come.
Kill him, Korak! Kill him!" And with flashing eyes and heaving
bosom the girl, coming to her feet, ran to Korak's side to encourage
him. Nearby lay The Killer's spear, where he had flung it as he
charged the ape. The girl saw it and snatched it up. No faintness
overcame her in the face of this battle primeval at her feet. For
her there was no hysterical reaction from the nerve strain of her
own personal encounter with the bull. She was excited; but cool
and entirely unafraid. Her Korak was battling with another Mangani
that would have stolen her; but she did not seek the safety of an
overhanging bough there to watch the battle from afar, as would a
she Mangani. Instead she placed the point of Korak's spear against
the bull ape's side and plunged the sharp point deep into the savage
heart. Korak had not needed her aid, for the great bull had been
already as good as dead, with the blood gushing from his torn
jugular; but Korak rose smiling with a word of approbation for his
helper.
How tall and fine she was! Had she changed suddenly within the
few hours of his absence, or had his battle with the ape affected
his vision? He might have been looking at Meriem through new eyes
for the many startling and wonderful surprises his gaze revealed.
How long it had been since he had found her in her father's village,
a little Arab girl, he did not know, for time is of no import in
the jungle and so he had kept no track of the passing days. But
he realized, as he looked upon her now, that she was no longer such
a little girl as he had first seen playing with Geeka beneath the
great tree just within the palisade. The change must have been
very gradual to have eluded his notice until now. And what was it
that had caused him to realize it so suddenly? His gaze wandered
from the girl to the body of the dead bull. For the first time
there flashed to his understanding the explanation of the reason
for the girl's attempted abduction. Korak's eyes went wide and
then they closed to narrow slits of rage as he stood glaring down
upon the abysmal brute at his feet. When next his glance rose to
Meriem's face a slow flush suffused his own. Now, indeed, was he
looking upon her through new eyes--the eyes of a man looking upon
a maid.
Akut had come up just as Meriem had speared Korak's antagonist.
The exultation of the old ape was keen. He strutted, stiff-legged
and truculent about the body of the fallen enemy. He growled and
upcurved his long, flexible lip. His hair bristled. He was paying
no attention to Meriem and Korak. Back in the uttermost recesses
of his little brain something was stirring--something which the sight
and smell of the great bull had aroused. The outward manifestation
of the germinating idea was one of bestial rage; but the inner
sensations were pleasurable in the extreme. The scent of the great
bull and the sight of his huge and hairy figure had wakened in the
heart of Akut a longing for the companionship of his own kind. So
Korak was not alone undergoing a change.
And Meriem? She was a woman. It is woman's divine right to love.
Always she had loved Korak. He was her big brother. Meriem alone
underwent no change. She was still happy in the companionship of
her Korak. She still loved him--as a sister loves an indulgent
brother--and she was very, very proud of him. In all the jungle
there was no other creature so strong, so handsome, or so brave.
Korak came close to her. There was a new light in his eyes as
she looked up into them; but she did not understand it. She did
not realize how close they were to maturity, nor aught of all the
difference in their lives the look in Korak's eyes might mean.
"Meriem," he whispered and his voice was husky as he laid a brown
hand upon her bare shoulder. "Meriem!" Suddenly he crushed her to
him. She looked up into his face, laughing, and then he bent and
kissed her full upon the mouth. Even then she did not understand.
She did not recall ever having been kissed before. It was very
nice. Meriem liked it. She thought it was Korak's way of showing
how glad he was that the great ape had not succeeded in running
away with her. She was glad too, so she put her arms about The
Killer's neck and kissed him again and again. Then, discovering
the doll in his belt she transferred it to her own possession,
kissing it as she had kissed Korak.
Korak wanted her to say something. He wanted to tell her how he
loved her; but the emotion of his love choked him and the vocabulary
of the Mangani was limited.
There came a sudden interruption. It was from Akut--a sudden, low
growl, no louder than those he had been giving vent to the while
he pranced about the dead bull, nor half so loud in fact; but of a
timbre that bore straight to the perceptive faculties of the jungle
beast ingrained in Korak. It was a warning. Korak looked quickly
up from the glorious vision of the sweet face so close to his.
Now his other faculties awoke. His ears, his nostrils were on the
alert. Something was coming!
The Killer moved to Akut's side. Meriem was just behind them. The
three stood like carved statues gazing into the leafy tangle of the
jungle. The noise that had attracted their attention increased,
and presently a great ape broke through the underbrush a few paces
from where they stood. The beast halted at sight of them. He gave
a warning grunt back over his shoulder, and a moment later coming
cautiously another bull appeared. He was followed by others--both
bulls and females with young, until two score hairy monsters stood
glaring at the three. It was the tribe of the dead king ape. Akut
was the first to speak. He pointed to the body of the dead bull.
"Korak, mighty fighter, has killed your king," he grunted. "There
is none greater in all the jungle than Korak, son of Tarzan. Now
Korak is king. What bull is greater than Korak?" It was a
challenge to any bull who might care to question Korak's right to
the kingship. The apes jabbered and chattered and growled among
themselves for a time. At last a young bull came slowly forward
rocking upon his short legs, bristling, growling, terrible.
The beast was enormous, and in the full prime of his strength. He
belonged to that almost extinct species for which white men have long
sought upon the information of the natives of the more inaccessible
jungles. Even the natives seldom see these great, hairy, primordial
men.
Korak advanced to meet the monster. He, too, was growling. In his
mind a plan was revolving. To close with this powerful, untired
brute after having just passed through a terrific battle with
another of his kind would have been to tempt defeat. He must find
an easier way to victory. Crouching, he prepared to meet the charge
which he knew would soon come, nor did he have long to wait. His
antagonist paused only for sufficient time to permit him to recount
for the edification of the audience and the confounding of Korak a
brief resume of his former victories, of his prowess, and of what
he was about to do to this puny Tarmangani. Then he charged.
With clutching fingers and wide opened jaws he came down upon the
waiting Korak with the speed of an express train. Korak did not
move until the great arms swung to embrace him, then he dropped
low beneath them, swung a terrific right to the side of the beast's
jaw as he side-stepped his rushing body, and swinging quickly about
stood ready over the fallen ape where he sprawled upon the ground.
It was a surprised anthropoid that attempted to scramble to its
feet. Froth flecked its hideous lips. Red were the little eyes.
Blood curdling roars tumbled from the deep chest. But it did not
reach its feet. The Killer stood waiting above it, and the moment
that the hairy chin came upon the proper level another blow that
would have felled an ox sent the ape over backward.
Again and again the beast struggled to arise, but each time the
mighty Tarmangani stood waiting with ready fist and pile driver
blow to bowl him over. Weaker and weaker became the efforts of the
bull. Blood smeared his face and breast. A red stream trickled
from nose and mouth. The crowd that had cheered him on at first
with savage yells, now jeered him--their approbation was for the
Tarmangani.
"Kagoda?" inquired Korak, as he sent the bull down once more.
Again the stubborn bull essayed to scramble to his feet. Again
The Killer struck him a terrific blow. Again he put the question,
kagoda--have you had enough?
For a moment the bull lay motionless. Then from between battered
lips came the single word: "Kagoda!"
"Then rise and go back among your people," said Korak. "I do not
wish to be king among people who once drove me from them. Keep your
own ways, and we will keep ours. When we meet we may be friends,
but we shall not live together."
An old bull came slowly toward The Killer.
"You have killed our king," he said. "You have defeated him who
would have been king. You could have killed him had you wished.
What shall we do for a king?"
Korak turned toward Akut.
"There is your king," he said. But Akut did not want to be separated
from Korak, although he was anxious enough to remain with his own
kind. He wanted Korak to remain, too. He said as much.
The youth was thinking of Meriem--of what would be best and safest
for her. If Akut went away with the apes there would be but one
to watch over and protect her. On the other hand were they to join
the tribe he would never feel safe to leave Meriem behind when he
went out to hunt, for the passions of the ape-folk are not ever
well controlled. Even a female might develop an insane hatred for
the slender white girl and kill her during Korak's absence.
"We will live near you," he said, at last. "When you change your
hunting ground we will change ours, Meriem and I, and so remain
near you; but we shall not dwell among you."
Akut raised objections to this plan. He did not wish to be separated
from Korak. At first he refused to leave his human friend for
the companionship of his own kind; but when he saw the last of the
tribe wandering off into the jungle again and his glance rested
upon the lithe figure of the dead king's young mate as she cast
admiring glances at her lord's successor the call of blood would
not be denied. With a farewell glance toward his beloved Korak
he turned and followed the she ape into the labyrinthine mazes of
the wood.
After Korak had left the village of the blacks following his last
thieving expedition, the screams of his victim and those of the
other women and children had brought the warriors in from the forest
and the river. Great was the excitement and hot was the rage of
the men when they learned that the white devil had again entered
their homes, frightened their women and stolen arrows and ornaments
and food.
Even their superstitious fear of this weird creature who hunted
with a huge bull ape was overcome in their desire to wreak vengeance
upon him and rid themselves for good and all of the menace of his
presence in the jungle.
And so it was that a score of the fleetest and most doughty warriors
of the tribe set out in pursuit of Korak and Akut but a few minutes
after they had left the scene of The Killer's many depredations.
The youth and the ape had traveled slowly and with no precautions
against a successful pursuit. Nor was their attitude of careless
indifference to the blacks at all remarkable. So many similar
raids had gone unpunished that the two had come to look upon the
Negroes with contempt. The return journey led them straight up
wind. The result being that the scent of their pursuers was borne
away from them, so they proceeded upon their way in total ignorance
of the fact that tireless trackers but little less expert in the
mysteries of woodcraft than themselves were dogging their trail
with savage insistence.
The little party of warriors was led by Kovudoo, the chief; a
middle-aged savage of exceptional cunning and bravery. It was he
who first came within sight of the quarry which they had followed
for hours by the mysterious methods of their almost uncanny powers
of observation, intuition, and even scent.
Kovudoo and his men came upon Korak, Akut and Meriem after the
killing of the king ape, the noise of the combat having led them
at last straight to their quarry. The sight of the slender white
girl had amazed the savage chief and held him gazing at the trio
for a moment before ordering his warriors to rush out upon their
prey. In that moment it was that the great apes came and again the
blacks remained awestruck witnesses to the palaver, and the battle
between Korak and the young bull.
But now the apes had gone, and the white youth and the white maid
stood alone in the jungle. One of Kovudoo's men leaned close to the
ear of his chief. "Look!" he whispered, and pointed to something
that dangled at the girl's side. "When my brother and I were
slaves in the village of The Sheik my brother made that thing for
The Sheik's little daughter--she played with it always and called
it after my brother, whose name is Geeka. Just before we escaped
some one came and struck down The Sheik, stealing his daughter
away. If this is she The Sheik will pay you well for her return."
Korak's arm had again gone around the shoulders of Meriem. Love
raced hot through his young veins. Civilization was but a
half-remembered state--London as remote as ancient Rome. In all
the world there were but they two--Korak, The Killer, and Meriem,
his mate. Again he drew her close to him and covered her willing
lips with his hot kisses. And then from behind him broke a hideous
bedlam of savage war cries and a score of shrieking blacks were
upon them.
Korak turned to give battle. Meriem with her own light spear stood
by his side. An avalanche of barbed missiles flew about them. One
pierced Korak's shoulder, another his leg, and he went down.
Meriem was unscathed for the blacks had intentionally spared her.
Now they rushed forward to finish Korak and made good the girl's
capture; but as they came there came also from another point in
the jungle the great Akut and at his heels the huge bulls of his
new kingdom.
Snarling and roaring they rushed upon the black warriors when they
saw the mischief they had already wrought. Kovudoo, realizing
the danger of coming to close quarters with these mighty ape-men,
seized Meriem and called upon his warriors to retreat. For a time
the apes followed them, and several of the blacks were badly mauled
and one killed before they succeeded in escaping. Nor would they
have gotten off thus easily had Akut not been more concerned with
the condition of the wounded Korak than with the fate of the girl
upon whom he had always looked as more or less of an interloper
and an unquestioned burden.
Korak lay bleeding and unconscious when Akut reached his side. The
great ape tore the heavy spears from his flesh, licked the wounds
and then carried his friend to the lofty shelter that Korak
had constructed for Meriem. Further than this the brute could do
nothing. Nature must accomplish the rest unaided or Korak must
die.
He did not die, however. For days he lay helpless with fever, while
Akut and the apes hunted close by that they might protect him from
such birds and beasts as might reach his lofty retreat. Occasionally
Akut brought him juicy fruits which helped to slake his thirst and
allay his fever, and little by little his powerful constitution
overcame the effects of the spear thrusts. The wounds healed and
his strength returned. All during his rational moments as he had
lain upon the soft furs which lined Meriem's nest he had suffered
more acutely from fears for Meriem than from the pain of his own
wounds. For her he must live. For her he must regain his strength
that he might set out in search of her. What had the blacks done
to her? Did she still live, or had they sacrificed her to their
lust for torture and human flesh? Korak almost trembled with terror
as the most hideous possibilities of the girl's fate suggested
themselves to him out of his knowledge of the customs of Kovudoo's
tribe.
The days dragged their weary lengths along, but at last he had
sufficiently regained his strength to crawl from the shelter and make
his way unaided to the ground. Now he lived more upon raw meat,
for which he was entirely dependent on Akut's skill and generosity.
With the meat diet his strength returned more rapidly, and at last
he felt that he was fit to undertake the journey to the village of
the blacks.
