18
The Fight For the Treasure
It was morning before Tarzan could bring himself to a realization
of the possibility of failure of his quest, and even then he would
only admit that success was but delayed. He would eat and sleep,
and then set forth again. The jungle was wide; but wide too were
the experience and cunning of Tarzan. Taglat might travel far;
but Tarzan would find him in the end, though he had to search every
tree in the mighty forest.
Soliloquizing thus, the ape-man followed the spoor of Bara, the
deer, the unfortunate upon which he had decided to satisfy his
hunger. For half an hour the trail led the ape-man toward the
east along a well-marked game path, when suddenly, to the stalker's
astonishment, the quarry broke into sight, racing madly back along
the narrow way straight toward the hunter.
Tarzan, who had been following along the trail, leaped so quickly
to the concealing verdure at the side that the deer was still
unaware of the presence of an enemy in this direction, and while
the animal was still some distance away, the ape-man swung into
the lower branches of the tree which overhung the trail. There he
crouched, a savage beast of prey, awaiting the coming of its victim.
What had frightened the deer into so frantic a retreat, Tarzan
did not know--Numa, the lion, perhaps, or Sheeta, the panther; but
whatsoever it was mattered little to Tarzan of the Apes--he was
ready and willing to defend his kill against any other denizen of the
jungle. If he were unable to do it by means of physical prowess,
he had at his command another and a greater power--his shrewd
intelligence.
And so, on came the running deer, straight into the jaws of death.
The ape-man turned so that his back was toward the approaching
animal. He poised with bent knees upon the gently swaying limb
above the trail, timing with keen ears the nearing hoof beats of
frightened Bara.
In a moment the victim flashed beneath the limb and at the same
instant the ape-man above sprang out and down upon its back. The
weight of the man's body carried the deer to the ground. It
stumbled forward once in a futile effort to rise, and then mighty
muscles dragged its head far back, gave the neck a vicious wrench,
and Bara was dead.
Quick had been the killing, and equally quick were the ape-man's
subsequent actions, for who might know what manner of killer pursued
Bara, or how close at hand he might be? Scarce had the neck of the
victim snapped than the carcass was hanging over one of Tarzan's
broad shoulders, and an instant later the ape-man was perched once
more among the lower branches of a tree above the trail, his keen,
gray eyes scanning the pathway down which the deer had fled.
Nor was it long before the cause of Bara's fright became evident to
Tarzan, for presently came the unmistakable sounds of approaching
horsemen. Dragging his kill after him the ape-man ascended to the
middle terrace, and settling himself comfortably in the crotch of
a tree where he could still view the trail beneath, cut a juicy
steak from the deer's loin, and burying his strong, white teeth
in the hot flesh proceeded to enjoy the fruits of his prowess and
his cunning.
Nor did he neglect the trail beneath while he satisfied his
hunger. His sharp eyes saw the muzzle of the leading horse as it
came into view around a bend in the tortuous trail, and one by one
they scrutinized the riders as they passed beneath him in single
file.
Among them came one whom Tarzan recognized, but so schooled was the
ape-man in the control of his emotions that no slightest change of
expression, much less any hysterical demonstration that might have
revealed his presence, betrayed the fact of his inward excitement.
Beneath him, as unconscious of his presence as were the Abyssinians
before and behind him, rode Albert Werper, while the ape-man
scrutinized the Belgian for some sign of the pouch which he had
stolen.
As the Abyssinians rode toward the south, a giant figure hovered
ever upon their trail--a huge, almost naked white man, who carried
the bloody carcass of a deer upon his shoulders, for Tarzan knew
that he might not have another opportunity to hunt for some time
if he were to follow the Belgian.
To endeavor to snatch him from the midst of the armed horsemen,
not even Tarzan would attempt other than in the last extremity,
for the way of the wild is the way of caution and cunning, unless
they be aroused to rashness by pain or anger.
So the Abyssinians and the Belgian marched southward and Tarzan of
the Apes swung silently after them through the swaying branches of
the middle terrace.
A two days' march brought them to a level plain beyond which lay
mountains--a plain which Tarzan remembered and which aroused within
him vague half memories and strange longings. Out upon the plain
the horsemen rode, and at a safe distance behind them crept the
ape-man, taking advantage of such cover as the ground afforded.
Beside a charred pile of timbers the Abyssinians halted, and Tarzan,
sneaking close and concealing himself in nearby shrubbery, watched
them in wonderment. He saw them digging up the earth, and he
wondered if they had hidden meat there in the past and now had come
for it. Then he recalled how he had buried his pretty pebbles,
and the suggestion that had caused him to do it. They were digging
for the things the blacks had buried here!
Presently he saw them uncover a dirty, yellow object, and he
witnessed the joy of Werper and of Abdul Mourak as the grimy object
was exposed to view. One by one they unearthed many similar pieces,
all of the same uniform, dirty yellow, until a pile of them lay
upon the ground, a pile which Abdul Mourak fondled and petted in
an ecstasy of greed.
Something stirred in the ape-man's mind as he looked long upon the
golden ingots. Where had he seen such before? What were they?
Why did these Tarmangani covet them so greatly? To whom did they
belong?
He recalled the black men who had buried them. The things must be
theirs. Werper was stealing them as he had stolen Tarzan's pouch
of pebbles. The ape-man's eyes blazed in anger. He would like to
find the black men and lead them against these thieves. He wondered
where their village might be.
As all these things ran through the active mind, a party of men
moved out of the forest at the edge of the plain and advanced toward
the ruins of the burned bungalow.
Abdul Mourak, always watchful, was the first to see them, but already
they were halfway across the open. He called to his men to mount
and hold themselves in readiness, for in the heart of Africa who
may know whether a strange host be friend or foe?
Werper, swinging into his saddle, fastened his eyes upon the
newcomers, then, white and trembling he turned toward Abdul Mourak.
"It is Achmet Zek and his raiders," he whispered. "They are come
for the gold."
It must have been at about the same instant that Achmet Zek
discovered the pile of yellow ingots and realized the actuality of
what he had already feared since first his eyes had alighted upon
the party beside the ruins of the Englishman's bungalow. Someone
had forestalled him--another had come for the treasure ahead of
him.
The Arab was crazed by rage. Recently everything had gone against
him. He had lost the jewels, the Belgian, and for the second time
he had lost the Englishwoman. Now some one had come to rob him of
this treasure which he had thought as safe from disturbance here
as though it never had been mined.
He cared not whom the thieves might be. They would not give up
the gold without a battle, of that he was certain, and with a wild
whoop and a command to his followers, Achmet Zek put spurs to his
horse and dashed down upon the Abyssinians, and after him, waving
their long guns above their heads, yelling and cursing, came his
motley horde of cut-throat followers.
The men of Abdul Mourak met them with a volley which emptied a few
saddles, and then the raiders were among them, and sword, pistol
and musket, each was doing its most hideous and bloody work.
Achmet Zek, spying Werper at the first charge, bore down upon the
Belgian, and the latter, terrified by contemplation of the fate
he deserved, turned his horse's head and dashed madly away in an
effort to escape. Shouting to a lieutenant to take command, and
urging him upon pain of death to dispatch the Abyssinians and bring
the gold back to his camp, Achmet Zek set off across the plain
in pursuit of the Belgian, his wicked nature unable to forego the
pleasures of revenge, even at the risk of sacrificing the treasure.
As the pursued and the pursuer raced madly toward the distant forest
the battle behind them raged with bloody savageness. No quarter
was asked or given by either the ferocious Abyssinians or the
murderous cut-throats of Achmet Zek.
From the concealment of the shrubbery Tarzan watched the sanguinary
conflict which so effectually surrounded him that he found no
loop-hole through which he might escape to follow Werper and the
Arab chief.
The Abyssinians were formed in a circle which included Tarzan's
position, and around and into them galloped the yelling raiders,
now darting away, now charging in to deliver thrusts and cuts with
their curved swords.
Numerically the men of Achmet Zek were superior, and slowly but
surely the soldiers of Menelek were being exterminated. To Tarzan
the result was immaterial. He watched with but a single purpose--to
escape the ring of blood-mad fighters and be away after the Belgian
and his pouch.
When he had first discovered Werper upon the trail where he had
slain Bara, he had thought that his eyes must be playing him false,
so certain had he been that the thief had been slain and devoured
by Numa; but after following the detachment for two days, with his
keen eyes always upon the Belgian, he no longer doubted the identity
of the man, though he was put to it to explain the identity of the
mutilated corpse he had supposed was the man he sought.
As he crouched in hiding among the unkempt shrubbery which so
short a while since had been the delight and pride of the wife he
no longer recalled, an Arab and an Abyssinian wheeled their mounts
close to his position as they slashed at each other with their
swords.
Step by step the Arab beat back his adversary until the latter's
horse all but trod upon the ape-man, and then a vicious cut clove
the black warrior's skull, and the corpse toppled backward almost
upon Tarzan.
As the Abyssinian tumbled from his saddle the possibility of escape
which was represented by the riderless horse electrified the ape-man
to instant action. Before the frightened beast could gather himself
for flight a naked giant was astride his back. A strong hand had
grasped his bridle rein, and the surprised Arab discovered a new
foe in the saddle of him, whom he had slain.
But this enemy wielded no sword, and his spear and bow remained upon
his back. The Arab, recovered from his first surprise, dashed in
with raised sword to annihilate this presumptuous stranger. He aimed
a mighty blow at the ape-man's head, a blow which swung harmlessly
through thin air as Tarzan ducked from its path, and then the Arab
felt the other's horse brushing his leg, a great arm shot out and
encircled his waist, and before he could recover himself he was
dragged from his saddle, and forming a shield for his antagonist
was borne at a mad run straight through the encircling ranks of
his fellows.
Just beyond them he was tossed aside upon the ground, and the last
he saw of his strange foeman the latter was galloping off across
the plain in the direction of the forest at its farther edge.
For another hour the battle raged nor did it cease until the last
of the Abyssinians lay dead upon the ground, or had galloped off
toward the north in flight. But a handful of men escaped, among
them Abdul Mourak.
The victorious raiders collected about the pile of golden ingots
which the Abyssinians had uncovered, and there awaited the return
of their leader. Their exultation was slightly tempered by the
glimpse they had had of the strange apparition of the naked white
man galloping away upon the horse of one of their foemen and carrying
a companion who was now among them expatiating upon the superhuman
strength of the ape-man. None of them there but was familiar with
the name and fame of Tarzan of the Apes, and the fact that they had
recognized the white giant as the ferocious enemy of the wrongdoers
of the jungle, added to their terror, for they had been assured
that Tarzan was dead.
Naturally superstitious, they fully believed that they had seen
the disembodied spirit of the dead man, and now they cast fearful
glances about them in expectation of the ghost's early return to the
scene of the ruin they had inflicted upon him during their recent
raid upon his home, and discussed in affrighted whispers the probable
nature of the vengeance which the spirit would inflict upon them
should he return to find them in possession of his gold.
As they conversed their terror grew, while from the concealment
of the reeds along the river below them a small party of naked,
black warriors watched their every move. From the heights beyond
the river these black men had heard the noise of the conflict,
and creeping warily down to the stream had forded it and advanced
through the reeds until they were in a position to watch every move
of the combatants.
For a half hour the raiders awaited Achmet Zek's return, their fear
of the earlier return of the ghost of Tarzan constantly undermining
their loyalty to and fear of their chief. Finally one among them
voiced the desires of all when he announced that he intended riding
forth toward the forest in search of Achmet Zek. Instantly every
man of them sprang to his mount.
"The gold will be safe here," cried one. "We have killed the
Abyssinians and there are no others to carry it away. Let us ride
in search of Achmet Zek!"
And a moment later, amidst a cloud of dust, the raiders were
galloping madly across the plain, and out from the concealment of
the reeds along the river, crept a party of black warriors toward
the spot where the golden ingots of Opar lay piled on the ground.
Werper had still been in advance of Achmet Zek when he reached
the forest; but the latter, better mounted, was gaining upon him.
Riding with the reckless courage of desperation the Belgian urged
his mount to greater speed even within the narrow confines of the
winding, game trail that the beast was following.
Behind him he could hear the voice of Achmet Zek crying to him to
halt; but Werper only dug the spurs deeper into the bleeding sides
of his panting mount. Two hundred yards within the forest a broken
branch lay across the trail. It was a small thing that a horse
might ordinarily take in his natural stride without noticing its
presence; but Werper's horse was jaded, his feet were heavy with
weariness, and as the branch caught between his front legs he
stumbled, was unable to recover himself, and went down, sprawling
in the trail.
Werper, going over his head, rolled a few yards farther on, scrambled
to his feet and ran back. Seizing the reins he tugged to drag the
beast to his feet; but the animal would not or could not rise, and
as the Belgian cursed and struck at him, Achmet Zek appeared in
view.
Instantly the Belgian ceased his efforts with the dying animal at
his feet, and seizing his rifle, dropped behind the horse and fired
at the oncoming Arab.
His bullet, going low, struck Achmet Zek's horse in the breast,
bringing him down a hundred yards from where Werper lay preparing
to fire a second shot.
The Arab, who had gone down with his mount, was standing astride
him, and seeing the Belgian's strategic position behind his fallen
horse, lost no time in taking up a similar one behind his own.
And there the two lay, alternately firing at and cursing each other,
while from behind the Arab, Tarzan of the Apes approached to the
edge of the forest. Here he heard the occasional shots of the
duelists, and choosing the safer and swifter avenue of the forest
branches to the uncertain transportation afforded by a half-broken
Abyssinian pony, took to the trees.
Keeping to one side of the trail, the ape-man came presently to a
point where he could look down in comparative safety upon the fighters.
First one and then the other would partially raise himself above
his breastwork of horseflesh, fire his weapon and immediately drop
flat behind his shelter, where he would reload and repeat the act
a moment later.
Werper had but little ammunition, having been hastily armed by
Abdul Mourak from the body of one of the first of the Abyssinians
who had fallen in the fight about the pile of ingots, and now he
realized that soon he would have used his last bullet, and be at
the mercy of the Arab--a mercy with which he was well acquainted.
Facing both death and despoilment of his treasure, the Belgian cast
about for some plan of escape, and the only one that appealed to
him as containing even a remote possibility of success hinged upon
the chance of bribing Achmet Zek.
Werper had fired all but a single cartridge, when, during a lull
in the fighting, he called aloud to his opponent.
"Achmet Zek," he cried, "Allah alone knows which one of us may
leave our bones to rot where he lies upon this trail today if we
keep up our foolish battle. You wish the contents of the pouch I
wear about my waist, and I wish my life and my liberty even more
than I do the jewels. Let us each, then, take that which he most
desires and go our separate ways in peace. I will lay the pouch
upon the carcass of my horse, where you may see it, and you, in
turn, will lay your gun upon your horse, with butt toward me. Then
I will go away, leaving the pouch to you, and you will let me go
in safety. I want only my life, and my freedom."
The Arab thought in silence for a moment. Then he spoke. His reply
was influenced by the fact that he had expended his last shot.
"Go your way, then," he growled, "leaving the pouch in plain sight
behind you. See, I lay my gun thus, with the butt toward you.
Go."
Werper removed the pouch from about his waist. Sorrowfully and
affectionately he let his fingers press the hard outlines of the
contents. Ah, if he could extract a little handful of the precious
stones! But Achmet Zek was standing now, his eagle eyes commanding
a plain view of the Belgian and his every act.
Regretfully Werper laid the pouch, its contents undisturbed, upon
the body of his horse, rose, and taking his rifle with him, backed
slowly down the trail until a turn hid him from the view of the
watchful Arab.
Even then Achmet Zek did not advance, fearful as he was of some
such treachery as he himself might have been guilty of under like
circumstances; nor were his suspicions groundless, for the Belgian,
no sooner had he passed out of the range of the Arab's vision, halted
behind the bole of a tree, where he still commanded an unobstructed
view of his dead horse and the pouch, and raising his rifle covered
the spot where the other's body must appear when he came forward
to seize the treasure.
But Achmet Zek was no fool to expose himself to the blackened honor
of a thief and a murderer. Taking his long gun with him, he left
the trail, entering the rank and tangled vegetation which walled
it, and crawling slowly forward on hands and knees he paralleled
the trail; but never for an instant was his body exposed to the
rifle of the hidden assassin.
Thus Achmet Zek advanced until he had come opposite the dead horse
of his enemy. The pouch lay there in full view, while a short
distance along the trail, Werper waited in growing impatience
and nervousness, wondering why the Arab did not come to claim his
reward.
Presently he saw the muzzle of a rifle appear suddenly and
mysteriously a few inches above the pouch, and before he could
realize the cunning trick that the Arab had played upon him the
sight of the weapon was adroitly hooked into the rawhide thong
which formed the carrying strap of the pouch, and the latter was
drawn quickly from his view into the dense foliage at the trail's
side.
Not for an instant had the raider exposed a square inch of his
body, and Werper dared not fire his one remaining shot unless every
chance of a successful hit was in his favor.
Chuckling to himself, Achmet Zek withdrew a few paces farther into
the jungle, for he was as positive that Werper was waiting nearby
for a chance to pot him as though his eyes had penetrated the
jungle trees to the figure of the hiding Belgian, fingering his
rifle behind the bole of the buttressed giant.
Werper did not dare advance--his cupidity would not permit him to
depart, and so he stood there, his rifle ready in his hands, his
eyes watching the trail before him with catlike intensity.
But there was another who had seen the pouch and recognized it, who
did advance with Achmet Zek, hovering above him, as silent and as
sure as death itself, and as the Arab, finding a little spot less
overgrown with bushes than he had yet encountered, prepared to gloat
his eyes upon the contents of the pouch, Tarzan paused directly
above him, intent upon the same object.
Wetting his thin lips with his tongue, Achmet Zek loosened the
tie strings which closed the mouth of the pouch, and cupping one
claw-like hand poured forth a portion of the contents into his
palm.
A single look he took at the stones lying in his hand. His eyes
narrowed, a curse broke from his lips, and he hurled the small
objects upon the ground, disdainfully. Quickly he emptied the
balance of the contents until he had scanned each separate stone,
and as he dumped them all upon the ground and stamped upon them
his rage grew until the muscles of his face worked in demon-like
fury, and his fingers clenched until his nails bit into the flesh.
Above, Tarzan watched in wonderment. He had been curious to discover
what all the pow-wow about his pouch had meant. He wanted to see
what the Arab would do after the other had gone away, leaving the
pouch behind him, and, having satisfied his curiosity, he would
then have pounced upon Achmet Zek and taken the pouch and his pretty
pebbles away from him, for did they not belong to Tarzan?
He saw the Arab now throw aside the empty pouch, and grasping his
long gun by the barrel, clublike, sneak stealthily through the
jungle beside the trail along which Werper had gone.
As the man disappeared from his view, Tarzan dropped to the ground
and commenced gathering up the spilled contents of the pouch, and
the moment that he obtained his first near view of the scattered
pebbles he understood the rage of the Arab, for instead of the
glittering and scintillating gems which had first caught and held
the attention of the ape-man, the pouch now contained but a collection
of ordinary river pebbles.
