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Literature Post > Burroughs, Edgar Rice > The Son Of Tarzan > Chapter 21

The Son Of Tarzan by Burroughs, Edgar Rice - Chapter 21

Chapter 21




The black boy whom Malbihn had left awaiting him in the clearing
with instructions to remain until he returned sat crouched at the
foot of a tree for an hour when he was suddenly startled by the
coughing grunt of a lion behind him. With celerity born of the
fear of death the boy clambered into the branches of the tree, and
a moment later the king of beasts entered the clearing and approached
the carcass of an antelope which, until now, the boy had not seen.

Until daylight the beast fed, while the black clung, sleepless,
to his perch, wondering what had become of his master and the two
ponies. He had been with Malbihn for a year, and so was fairly
conversant with the character of the white. His knowledge presently
led him to believe that he had been purposely abandoned. Like
the balance of Malbihn's followers, this boy hated his master
cordially--fear being the only bond that held him to the white man.
His present uncomfortable predicament but added fuel to the fires
of his hatred.

As the sun rose the lion withdrew into the jungle and the black
descended from his tree and started upon his long journey back to
camp. In his primitive brain revolved various fiendish plans for
a revenge that he would not have the courage to put into effect when
the test came and he stood face to face with one of the dominant
race.

A mile from the clearing he came upon the spoor of two ponies
crossing his path at right angles. A cunning look entered the
black's eyes. He laughed uproariously and slapped his thighs.

Negroes are tireless gossipers, which, of course, is but a
roundabout way of saying that they are human. Malbihn's boys had
been no exception to the rule and as many of them had been with him
at various times during the past ten years there was little about
his acts and life in the African wilds that was not known directly
or by hearsay to them all.

And so, knowing his master and many of his past deeds, knowing,
too, a great deal about the plans of Malbihn and Baynes that had
been overheard by himself, or other servants; and knowing well
from the gossip of the head-men that half of Malbihn's party lay
in camp by the great river far to the west, it was not difficult
for the boy to put two and two together and arrive at four as the
sum--the four being represented by a firm conviction that his master
had deceived the other white man and taken the latter's woman to
his western camp, leaving the other to suffer capture and punishment
at the hands of the Big Bwana whom all feared. Again the boy bared
his rows of big, white teeth and laughed aloud. Then he resumed
his northward way, traveling at a dogged trot that ate up the miles
with marvelous rapidity.

In the Swede's camp the Hon. Morison had spent an almost sleepless
night of nervous apprehension and doubts and fears. Toward morning
he had slept, utterly exhausted. It was the headman who awoke him
shortly after sun rise to remind him that they must at once take
up their northward journey. Baynes hung back. He wanted to wait
for "Hanson" and Meriem. The headman urged upon him the danger that
lay in loitering. The fellow knew his master's plans sufficiently
well to understand that he had done something to arouse the ire
of the Big Bwana and that it would fare ill with them all if they
were overtaken in Big Bwana's country. At the suggestion Baynes
took alarm.

What if the Big Bwana, as the head-man called him, had surprised
"Hanson" in his nefarious work. Would he not guess the truth
and possibly be already on the march to overtake and punish him?
Baynes had heard much of his host's summary method of dealing out
punishment to malefactors great and small who transgressed the laws
or customs of his savage little world which lay beyond the outer
ramparts of what men are pleased to call frontiers. In this savage
world where there was no law the Big Bwana was law unto himself and
all who dwelt about him. It was even rumored that he had extracted
the death penalty from a white man who had maltreated a native
girl.

Baynes shuddered at the recollection of this piece of gossip as he
wondered what his host would exact of the man who had attempted to
steal his young, white ward. The thought brought him to his feet.

"Yes," he said, nervously, "we must get away from here at once.
Do you know the trail to the north?"

The head-man did, and he lost no time in getting the safari upon
the march.

It was noon when a tired and sweat-covered runner overtook the
trudging little column. The man was greeted with shouts of welcome
from his fellows, to whom he imparted all that he knew and guessed
of the actions of their master, so that the entire safari was aware
of matters before Baynes, who marched close to the head of the
column, was reached and acquainted with the facts and the imaginings
of the black boy whom Malbihn had deserted in the clearing the
night before.

When the Hon. Morison had listened to all that the boy had to say
and realized that the trader had used him as a tool whereby he
himself might get Meriem into his possession, his blood ran hot
with rage and he trembled with apprehension for the girl's safety.

That another contemplated no worse a deed than he had contemplated
in no way palliated the hideousness of the other's offense. At
first it did not occur to him that he would have wronged Meriem
no less than he believed "Hanson" contemplated wronging her. Now
his rage was more the rage of a man beaten at his own game and
robbed of the prize that he had thought already his.

"Do you know where your master has gone?" he asked the black.

"Yes, Bwana," replied the boy. "He has gone to the other camp
beside the big afi that flows far toward the setting sun.

"Can you take me to him?" demanded Baynes.

The boy nodded affirmatively. Here he saw a method of revenging
himself upon his hated Bwana and at the same time of escaping the
wrath of the Big Bwana whom all were positive would first follow
after the northerly safari.

"Can you and I, alone, reach his camp?" asked the Hon. Morison.

"Yes, Bwana," assured the black.

Baynes turned toward the head-man. He was conversant with "Hanson's"
plans now. He understood why he had wished to move the northern
camp as far as possible toward the northern boundary of the Big
Bwana's country--it would give him far more time to make his escape
toward the West Coast while the Big Bwana was chasing the northern
contingent. Well, he would utilize the man's plans to his own end.
He, too, must keep out of the clutches of his host.

"You may take the men north as fast as possible," he said to the
head-man. "I shall return and attempt to lead the Big Bwana to
the west."

The Negro assented with a grunt. He had no desire to follow this
strange white man who was afraid at night; he had less to remain
at the tender mercies of the Big Bwana's lusty warriors, between
whom and his people there was long-standing blood feud; and he was
more than delighted, into the bargain, for a legitimate excuse for
deserting his much hated Swede master. He knew a way to the north
and his own country that the white men did not know--a short cut
across an arid plateau where lay water holes of which the white
hunters and explorers that had passed from time to time the fringe
of the dry country had never dreamed. He might even elude the Big
Bwana should he follow them, and with this thought uppermost in his
mind he gathered the remnants of Malbihn's safari into a semblance
of order and moved off toward the north. And toward the southwest
the black boy led the Hon. Morison Baynes into the jungles.

Korak had waited about the camp, watching the Hon. Morison until the
safari had started north. Then, assured that the young Englishman
was going in the wrong direction to meet Meriem he had abandoned
him and returned slowly to the point where he had seen the girl,
for whom his heart yearned, in the arms of another.

So great had been his happiness at seeing Meriem alive that, for
the instant, no thought of jealousy had entered his mind. Later
these thoughts had come--dark, bloody thoughts that would have made
the flesh of the Hon. Morison creep could he have guessed that they
were revolving in the brain of a savage creature creeping stealthily
among the branches of the forest giant beneath which he waited the
coming of "Hanson" and the girl.

And with passing of the hours had come subdued reflection in which
he had weighed himself against the trimly clad English gentleman
and--found that he was wanting. What had he to offer her by comparison
with that which the other man might offer? What was his "mess of
pottage" to the birthright that the other had preserved? How could
he dare go, naked and unkempt, to that fair thing who had once been
his jungle-fellow and propose the thing that had been in his mind
when first the realization of his love had swept over him? He
shuddered as he thought of the irreparable wrong that his love would
have done the innocent child but for the chance that had snatched
her from him before it was too late. Doubtless she knew now the
horror that had been in his mind. Doubtless she hated and loathed
him as he hated and loathed himself when he let his mind dwell
upon it. He had lost her. No more surely had she been lost when
he thought her dead than she was in reality now that he had seen her
living--living in the guise of a refinement that had transfigured
and sanctified her.

He had loved her before, now he worshipped her. He knew that he
might never possess her now, but at least he might see her. From
a distance he might look upon her. Perhaps he might serve her;
but never must she guess that he had found her or that he lived.

He wondered if she ever thought of him--if the happy days that
they had spent together never recurred to her mind. It seemed
unbelievable that such could be the case, and yet, too, it seemed
almost equally unbelievable that this beautiful girl was the same
disheveled, half naked, little sprite who skipped nimbly among the
branches of the trees as they ran and played in the lazy, happy
days of the past. It could not be that her memory held more of
the past than did her new appearance.

It was a sad Korak who ranged the jungle near the plain's edge
waiting for the coming of his Meriem--the Meriem who never came.

But there came another--a tall, broad-shouldered man in khaki at
the head of a swarthy crew of ebon warriors. The man's face was
set in hard, stern lines and the marks of sorrow were writ deep
about his mouth and eyes--so deep that the set expression of rage
upon his features could not obliterate them.

Korak saw the man pass beneath him where he hid in the great tree
that had harbored him before upon the edge of that fateful little
clearing. He saw him come and he set rigid and frozen and suffering
above him. He saw him search the ground with his keen eyes, and
he only sat there watching with eyes that glazed from the intensity
of his gaze. He saw him sign to his men that he had come upon that
which he sought and he saw him pass out of sight toward the north,
and still Korak sat like a graven image, with a heart that bled
in dumb misery. An hour later Korak moved slowly away, back into
the jungle toward the west. He went listlessly, with bent head
and stooped shoulders, like an old man who bore upon his back the
weight of a great sorrow.

Baynes, following his black guide, battled his way through the
dense underbrush, riding stooped low over his horse's neck, or often
he dismounted where the low branches swept too close to earth to
permit him to remain in the saddle. The black was taking him the
shortest way, which was no way at all for a horseman, and after
the first day's march the young Englishman was forced to abandon
his mount, and follow his nimble guide entirely on foot.

During the long hours of marching the Hon. Morison had much time to
devote to thought, and as he pictured the probable fate of Meriem
at the hands of the Swede his rage against the man became the greater.
But presently there came to him a realization of the fact that his
own base plans had led the girl into this terrible predicament, and
that even had she escaped "Hanson" she would have found but little
better deserts awaiting her with him.

There came too, the realization that Meriem was infinitely
more precious to him than he had imagined. For the first time he
commenced to compare her with other women of his acquaintance--women
of birth and position--and almost to his surprise--he discovered
that the young Arab girl suffered less than they by the comparison.
And then from hating "Hanson" he came to look upon himself with
hate and loathing--to see himself and his perfidious act in all
their contemptible hideousness.

Thus, in the crucible of shame amidst the white heat of naked truths,
the passion that the man had felt for the girl he had considered
his social inferior was transmuted into love. And as he staggered
on there burned within him beside his newborn love another great
passion--the passion of hate urging him on to the consummation of
revenge.

A creature of ease and luxury, he had never been subjected to the
hardships and tortures which now were his constant companionship,
yet, his clothing torn, his flesh scratched and bleeding, he urged
the black to greater speed, though with every dozen steps he himself
fell from exhaustion.

It was revenge which kept him going--that and a feeling that in his
suffering he was partially expiating the great wrong he had done
the girl he loved--for hope of saving her from the fate into which
he had trapped her had never existed. "Too late! Too late!" was
the dismal accompaniment of thought to which he marched. "Too late!
Too late to save; but not too late to avenge!" That kept him up.

Only when it became too dark to see would he permit of a halt. A
dozen times in the afternoon he had threatened the black with instant
death when the tired guide insisted upon resting. The fellow was
terrified. He could not understand the remarkable change that had
so suddenly come over the white man who had been afraid in the dark
the night before. He would have deserted this terrifying master had
he had the opportunity; but Baynes guessed that some such thought
might be in the other's mind, and so gave the fellow none. He kept
close to him by day and slept touching him at night in the rude
thorn boma they constructed as a slight protection against prowling
carnivora.

That the Hon. Morison could sleep at all in the midst of the savage
jungle was sufficient indication that he had changed considerably
in the past twenty-four hours, and that he could lie close beside
a none-too-fragrant black man spoke of possibilities for democracy
within him yet all undreamed of.

Morning found him stiff and lame and sore, but none the less
determined to push on in pursuit of "Hanson" as rapidly as possible.
With his rifle he brought down a buck at a ford in a small stream
shortly after they broke camp, breakfastless. Begrudgingly
he permitted a halt while they cooked and ate, and then on again
through the wilderness of trees and vines and underbrush.

And in the meantime Korak wandered slowly westward, coming upon
the trail of Tantor, the elephant, whom he overtook browsing in
the deep shade of the jungle. The ape-man, lonely and sorrowing,
was glad of the companionship of his huge friend. Affectionately
the sinuous trunk encircled him, and he was swung to the mighty back
where so often before he had lolled and dreamed the long afternoon
away.

Far to the north the Big Bwana and his black warriors clung
tenaciously to the trail of the fleeing safari that was luring them
further and further from the girl they sought to save, while back
at the bungalow the woman who had loved Meriem as though she had
been her own waited impatiently and in sorrow for the return of the
rescuing party and the girl she was positive her invincible lord
and master would bring back with him.