5
Tarzan and the Black Boy
TARZAN OF THE Apes sat at the foot of a great tree braiding
a new grass rope. Beside him lay the frayed remnants of the
old one, torn and severed by the fangs and talons of Sheeta,
the panther. Only half the original rope was there,
the balance having been carried off by the angry cat as he
bounded away through the jungle with the noose still about
his savage neck and the loose end dragging among the underbrush.
Tarzan smiled as he recalled Sheeta's great rage, his frantic
efforts to free himself from the entangling strands,
his uncanny screams that were part hate, part anger,
part terror. He smiled in retrospection at the discomfiture
of his enemy, and in anticipation of another day as he
added an extra strand to his new rope.
This would be the strongest, the heaviest rope that Tarzan
of the Apes ever had fashioned. Visions of Numa, the lion,
straining futilely in its embrace thrilled the ape-man. He
was quite content, for his hands and his brain were busy.
Content, too, were his fellows of the tribe of Kerchak,
searching for food in the clearing and the surrounding
trees about him. No perplexing thoughts of the future
burdened their minds, and only occasionally, dimly arose
recollections of the near past. They were stimulated
to a species of brutal content by the delectable business
of filling their bellies. Afterward they would sleep--it
was their life, and they enjoyed it as we enjoy ours,
you and I--as Tarzan enjoyed his. Possibly they enjoyed
theirs more than we enjoy ours, for who shall say that the
beasts of the jungle do not better fulfill the purposes
for which they are created than does man with his many
excursions into strange fields and his contraventions
of the laws of nature? And what gives greater content
and greater happiness than the fulfilling of a destiny?
As Tarzan worked, Gazan, Teeka's little balu, played about
him while Teeka sought food upon the opposite side of
the clearing. No more did Teeka, the mother, or Taug,
the sullen sire, harbor suspicions of Tarzan's intentions
toward their first-born. Had he not courted death to save
their Gazan from the fangs and talons of Sheeta? Did he
not fondle and cuddle the little one with even as great
a show of affection as Teeka herself displayed? Their
fears were allayed and Tarzan now found himself often
in the role of nursemaid to a tiny anthropoid-- an
avocation which he found by no means irksome, since Gazan
was a never-failing fount of surprises and entertainment.
Just now the apeling was developing those arboreal
tendencies which were to stand him in such good stead
during the years of his youth, when rapid flight into
the upper terraces was of far more importance and value
than his undeveloped muscles and untried fighting fangs.
Backing off fifteen or twenty feet from the bole of the tree
beneath the branches of which Tarzan worked upon his rope,
Gazan scampered quickly forward, scrambling nimbly upward
to the lower limbs. Here he would squat for a moment or two,
quite proud of his achievement, then clamber to the ground
again and repeat. Sometimes, quite often in fact, for he
was an ape, his attention was distracted by other things,
a beetle, a caterpillar, a tiny field mouse, and off he
would go in pursuit; the caterpillars he always caught,
and sometimes the beetles; but the field mice, never.
Now he discovered the tail of the rope upon which Tarzan
was working. Grasping it in one small hand he bounced away,
for all the world like an animated rubber ball, snatching it
from the ape-man's hand and running off across the clearing.
Tarzan leaped to his feet and was in pursuit in an instant,
no trace of anger on his face or in his voice as he called
to the roguish little balu to drop his rope.
Straight toward his mother raced Gazan, and after him
came Tarzan. Teeka looked up from her feeding, and in the
first instant that she realized that Gazan was fleeing and
that another was in pursuit, she bared her fangs and bristled;
but when she saw that the pursuer was Tarzan she turned back
to the business that had been occupying her attention.
At her very feet the ape-man overhauled the balu and,
though the youngster squealed and fought when Tarzan
seized him, Teeka only glanced casually in their direction.
No longer did she fear harm to her first-born at the hands
of the ape-man. Had he not saved Gazan on two occasions?
Rescuing his rope, Tarzan returned to his tree and resumed
his labor; but thereafter it was necessary to watch
carefully the playful balu, who was now possessed to steal
it whenever he thought his great, smooth-skinned cousin
was momentarily off his guard.
But even under this handicap Tarzan finally completed
the rope, a long, pliant weapon, stronger than any he
ever had made before. The discarded piece of his former
one he gave to Gazan for a plaything, for Tarzan had
it in his mind to instruct Teeka's balu after ideas
of his own when the youngster should be old and strong
enough to profit by his precepts. At present the little
ape's innate aptitude for mimicry would be sufficient
to familiarize him with Tarzan's ways and weapons,
and so the ape-man swung off into the jungle, his new rope
coiled over one shoulder, while little Gazan hopped about
the clearing dragging the old one after him in childish glee.
As Tarzan traveled, dividing his quest for food with one
for a sufficiently noble quarry whereupon to test his
new weapon, his mind often was upon Gazan. The ape-man
had realized a deep affection for Teeka's balu almost from
the first, partly because the child belonged to Teeka,
his first love, and partly for the little ape's own sake,
and Tarzan's human longing for some sentient creature
upon which to expend those natural affections of the soul
which are inherent to all normal members of the GENUS
HOMO. Tarzan envied Teeka. It was true that Gazan
evidenced a considerable reciprocation of Tarzan's fondness
for him, even preferring him to his own surly sire;
but to Teeka the little one turned when in pain or terror,
when tired or hungry. Then it was that Tarzan felt
quite alone in the world and longed desperately for one
who should turn first to him for succor and protection.
Taug had Teeka; Teeka had Gazan; and nearly every other
bull and cow of the tribe of Kerchak had one or more
to love and by whom to be loved. Of course Tarzan could
scarcely formulate the thought in precisely this way--he
only knew that he craved something which was denied him;
something which seemed to be represented by those
relations which existed between Teeka and her balu,
and so he envied Teeka and longed for a balu of his own.
He saw Sheeta and his mate with their little family of three;
and deeper inland toward the rocky hills, where one might lie
up during the heat of the day, in the dense shade of a tangled
thicket close under the cool face of an overhanging rock,
Tarzan had found the lair of Numa, the lion, and of Sabor,
the lioness. Here he had watched them with their little
balus--playful creatures, spotted leopard-like. And he
had seen the young fawn with Bara, the deer, and with Buto,
the rhinoceros, its ungainly little one. Each of the
creatures of the jungle had its own--except Tarzan.
It made the ape-man sad to think upon this thing,
sad and lonely; but presently the scent of game cleared
his young mind of all other considerations, as catlike he
crawled far out upon a bending limb above the game trail
which led down to the ancient watering place of the wild
things of this wild world.
How many thousands of times had this great, old limb bent
to the savage form of some blood-thirsty hunter in the
long years that it had spread its leafy branches above
the deep-worn jungle path! Tarzan, the ape-man, Sheeta,
the panther, and Histah, the snake, it knew well.
They had worn smooth the bark upon its upper surface.
Today it was Horta, the boar, which came down toward the
watcher in the old tree--Horta, the boar, whose formidable
tusks and diabolical temper preserved him from all but
the most ferocious or most famished of the largest carnivora.
But to Tarzan, meat was meat; naught that was edible or tasty
might pass a hungry Tarzan unchallenged and unattacked.
In hunger, as in battle, the ape-man out-savaged the
dreariest denizens of the jungle. He knew neither fear
nor mercy, except upon rare occasions when some strange,
inexplicable force stayed his hand--a force inexplicable
to him, perhaps, because of his ignorance of his own origin
and of all the forces of humanitarianism and civilization
that were his rightful heritage because of that origin.
So today, instead of staying his hand until a less
formidable feast found its way toward him, Tarzan dropped
his new noose about the neck of Horta, the boar.
It was an excellent test for the untried strands.
The angered boar bolted this way and that; but each time
the new rope held him where Tarzan had made it fast
about the stem of the tree above the branch from which he
had cast it.
As Horta grunted and charged, slashing the sturdy jungle
patriarch with his mighty tusks until the bark flew in
every direction, Tarzan dropped to the ground behind him.
In the ape-man's hand was the long, keen blade that had been
his constant companion since that distant day upon which
chance had directed its point into the body of Bolgani,
the gorilla, and saved the torn and bleeding man-child
from what else had been certain death.
Tarzan walked in toward Horta, who swung now to face
his enemy. Mighty and muscled as was the young giant,
it yet would have appeared but the maddest folly for him
to face so formidable a creature as Horta, the boar,
armed only with a slender hunting knife. So it would
have seemed to one who knew Horta even slightly and Tarzan
not at all.
For a moment Horta stood motionless facing the ape-man.
His wicked, deep-set eyes flashed angrily. He shook
his lowered head.
"Mud-eater!" jeered the ape-man. "Wallower in filth.
Even your meat stinks, but it is juicy and makes Tarzan strong.
Today I shall eat your heart, O Lord of the Great Tusks,
that it shall keep savage that which pounds against my
own ribs."
Horta, understanding nothing of what Tarzan said, was none
the less enraged because of that. He saw only a naked
man-thing, hairless and futile, pitting his puny fangs
and soft muscles against his own indomitable savagery,
and he charged.
Tarzan of the Apes waited until the upcut of a wicked
tusk would have laid open his thigh, then he moved--just
the least bit to one side; but so quickly that lightning
was a sluggard by comparison, and as he moved, he stooped
low and with all the great power of his right arm drove
the long blade of his father's hunting knife straight
into the heart of Horta, the boar. A quick leap carried
him from the zone of the creature's death throes,
and a moment later the hot and dripping heart of Horta
was in his grasp.
His hunger satisfied, Tarzan did not seek a lying-up place
for sleep, as was sometimes his way, but continued on
through the jungle more in search of adventure than of food,
for today he was restless. And so it came that he turned
his footsteps toward the village of Mbonga, the black chief,
whose people Tarzan had baited remorselessly since that
day upon which Kulonga, the chief's son, had slain Kala.
A river winds close beside the village of the black men.
Tarzan reached its side a little below the clearing where
squat the thatched huts of the Negroes. The river life
was ever fascinating to the ape-man. He found pleasure
in watching the ungainly antics of Duro, the hippopotamus,
and keen sport in tormenting the sluggish crocodile,
Gimla, as he basked in the sun. Then, too, there were
the shes and the balus of the black men of the Gomangani
to frighten as they squatted by the river, the shes with
their meager washing, the balus with their primitive toys.
This day he came upon a woman and her child farther
down stream than usual. The former was searching for a
species of shellfish which was to be found in the mud
close to the river bank. She was a young black woman
of about thirty. Her teeth were filed to sharp points,
for her people ate the flesh of man. Her under lip
was slit that it might support a rude pendant of copper
which she had worn for so many years that the lip had been
dragged downward to prodigious lengths, exposing the teeth
and gums of her lower jaw. Her nose, too, was slit,
and through the slit was a wooden skewer. Metal ornaments
dangled from her ears, and upon her forehead and cheeks;
upon her chin and the bridge of her nose were tattooings
in colors that were mellowed now by age. She was
naked except for a girdle of grasses about her waist.
Altogether she was very beautiful in her own estimation
and even in the estimation of the men of Mbonga's tribe,
though she was of another people--a trophy of war seized
in her maidenhood by one of Mbonga's fighting men.
Her child was a boy of ten, lithe, straight and,
for a black, handsome. Tarzan looked upon the two from
the concealing foliage of a near-by bush. He was about
to leap forth before them with a terrifying scream,
that he might enjoy the spectacle of their terror and their
incontinent flight; but of a sudden a new whim seized him.
Here was a balu fashioned as he himself was fashioned.
Of course this one's skin was black; but what of it?
Tarzan had never seen a white man. In so far as he knew,
he was the sole representative of that strange form
of life upon the earth. The black boy should make an
excellent balu for Tarzan, since he had none of his own.
He would tend him carefully, feed him well, protect him
as only Tarzan of the Apes could protect his own,
and teach him out of his half human, half bestial lore
the secrets of the jungle from its rotting surface
vegetation to the high tossed pinnacles of the forest's
upper terraces.
* * *
Tarzan uncoiled his rope, and shook out the noose.
The two before him, all ignorant of the near presence of
that terrifying form, continued preoccupied in the search
for shellfish, poking about in the mud with short sticks.
Tarzan stepped from the jungle behind them; his noose
lay open upon the ground beside him. There was a quick
movement of the right arm and the noose rose gracefully
into the air, hovered an instant above the head of the
unsuspecting youth, then settled. As it encompassed
his body below the shoulders, Tarzan gave a quick jerk
that tightened it about the boy's arms, pinioning them
to his sides. A scream of terror broke from the lad's lips,
and as his mother turned, affrighted at his cry,
she saw him being dragged quickly toward a great white
giant who stood just beneath the shade of a near-by tree,
scarcely a dozen long paces from her.
With a savage cry of terror and rage, the woman leaped fearlessly
toward the ape-man. In her mien Tarzan saw determination
and courage which would shrink not even from death itself.
She was very hideous and frightful even when her face
was in repose; but convulsed by passion, her expression
became terrifyingly fiendish. Even the ape-man drew back,
but more in revulsion than fear--fear he knew not.
Biting and kicking was the black she's balu as Tarzan tucked
him beneath his arm and vanished into the branches hanging
low above him, just as the infuriated mother dashed forward
to seize and do battle with him. And as he melted away into
the depth of the jungle with his still struggling prize,
he meditated upon the possibilities which might lie in the
prowess of the Gomangani were the hes as formidable as the shes.
Once at a safe distance from the despoiled mother and out
of earshot of her screams and menaces, Tarzan paused
to inspect his prize, now so thoroughly terrorized
that he had ceased his struggles and his outcries.
The frightened child rolled his eyes fearfully toward
his captor, until the whites showed gleaming all about
the irises.
"I am Tarzan," said the ape-man, in the vernacular of
the anthropoids. "I will not harm you. You are to be
Tarzan's balu. Tarzan will protect you. He will feed you.
The best in the jungle shall be for Tarzan's balu,
for Tarzan is a mighty hunter. None need you fear,
not even Numa, the lion, for Tarzan is a mighty fighter.
None so great as Tarzan, son of Kala. Do not fear."
But the child only whimpered and trembled, for he did
not understand the tongue of the great apes, and the voice
of Tarzan sounded to him like the barking and growling
of a beast. Then, too, he had heard stories of this bad,
white forest god. It was he who had slain Kulonga
and others of the warriors of Mbonga, the chief.
It was he who entered the village stealthily, by magic,
in the darkness of the night, to steal arrows and poison,
and frighten the women and the children and even the
great warriors. Doubtless this wicked god fed upon
little boys. Had his mother not said as much when he
was naughty and she threatened to give him to the white
god of the jungle if he were not good? Little black Tibo
shook as with ague.
"Are you cold, Go-bu-balu?" asked Tarzan, using the simian
equivalent of black he-baby in lieu of a better name.
"The sun is hot; why do you shiver?"
Tibo could not understand; but he cried for his mamma and
begged the great, white god to let him go, promising always
to be a good boy thereafter if his plea were granted.
Tarzan shook his head. Not a word could he understand.
This would never do! He must teach Go-bu-balu a language
which sounded like talk. It was quite certain to Tarzan
that Go-bu-balu's speech was not talk at all. It sounded
quite as senseless as the chattering of the silly birds.
It would be best, thought the ape-man, quickly to get him
among the tribe of Kerchak where he would hear the Mangani
talking among themselves. Thus he would soon learn an
intelligible form of speech.
Tarzan rose to his feet upon the swaying branch where he
had halted far above the ground, and motioned to the child
to follow him; but Tibo only clung tightly to the bole
of the tree and wept. Being a boy, and a native African,
he had, of course, climbed into trees many times before this;
but the idea of racing off through the forest, leaping from
one branch to another, as his captor, to his horror,
had done when he had carried Tibo away from his mother,
filled his childish heart with terror.
Tarzan sighed. His newly acquired balu had much indeed
to learn. It was pitiful that a balu of his size and strength
should be so backward. He tried to coax Tibo to follow him;
but the child dared not, so Tarzan picked him up and carried
him upon his back. Tibo no longer scratched or bit.
Escape seemed impossible. Even now, were he set upon
the ground, the chance was remote, he knew, that he could
find his way back to the village of Mbonga, the chief.
Even if he could, there were the lions and the leopards
and the hyenas, any one of which, as Tibo was well aware,
was particularly fond of the meat of little black boys.
So far the terrible white god of the jungle had offered
him no harm. He could not expect even this much
consideration from the frightful, green-eyed man-eaters.
It would be the lesser of two evils, then, to let the
white god carry him away without scratching and biting,
as he had done at first.
As Tarzan swung rapidly through the trees, little Tibo
closed his eyes in terror rather than look longer down
into the frightful abysses beneath. Never before in all
his life had Tibo been so frightened, yet as the white
giant sped on with him through the forest there stole
over the child an inexplicable sensation of security as he
saw how true were the leaps of the ape-man, how unerring
his grasp upon the swaying limbs which gave him hand-hold,
and then, too, there was safety in the middle terraces
of the forest, far above the reach of the dreaded lions.
And so Tarzan came to the clearing where the tribe fed,
dropping among them with his new balu clinging tightly
to his shoulders. He was fairly in the midst of them
before Tibo spied a single one of the great hairy forms,
or before the apes realized that Tarzan was not alone.
When they saw the little Gomangani perched upon his back
some of them came forward in curiosity with upcurled lips
and snarling mien.
An hour before little Tibo would have said that he
knew the uttermost depths of fear; but now, as he saw
these fearsome beasts surrounding him, he realized that
all that had gone before was as nothing by comparison.
Why did the great white giant stand there so unconcernedly?
Why did he not flee before these horrid, hairy, tree men
fell upon them both and tore them to pieces? And then
there came to Tibo a numbing recollection. It was none
other than the story he had heard passed from mouth
to mouth, fearfully, by the people of Mbonga, the chief,
that this great white demon of the jungle was naught other
than a hairless ape, for had not he been seen in company with
these?
Tibo could only stare in wide-eyed horror at the
approaching apes. He saw their beetling brows,
their great fangs, their wicked eyes. He noted their
mighty muscles rolling beneath their shaggy hides.
Their every attitude and expression was a menace.
Tarzan saw this, too. He drew Tibo around in front of him.
"This is Tarzan's Go-bu-balu," he said. "Do not harm him,
or Tarzan will kill you," and he bared his own fangs
in the teeth of the nearest ape.
"It is a Gomangani," replied the ape. "Let me kill it.
It is a Gomangani. The Gomangani are our enemies.
Let me kill it."
"Go away," snarled Tarzan. "I tell you, Gunto, it is
Tarzan's balu. Go away or Tarzan will kill you,"
and the ape-man took a step toward the advancing ape.
The latter sidled off, quite stiff and haughty,
after the manner of a dog which meets another and is
too proud to fight and too fearful to turn his back and run.
Next came Teeka, prompted by curiosity. At her side
skipped little Gazan. They were filled with wonder
like the others; but Teeka did not bare her fangs.
Tarzan saw this and motioned that she approach.
"Tarzan has a balu now," he said. "He and Teeka's balu
can play together."
"It is a Gomangani, " replied Teeka. "It will kill my balu.
Take it away, Tarzan."
Tarzan laughed. "It could not harm Pamba, the rat,"
he said. "It is but a little balu and very frightened.
Let Gazan play with it."
Teeka still was fearful, for with all their mighty
ferocity the great anthropoids are timid; but at last,
assured by her great confidence in Tarzan, she pushed
Gazan forward toward the little black boy. The small ape,
guided by instinct, drew back toward its mother, baring its
small fangs and screaming in mingled fear and rage.
Tibo, too, showed no signs of desiring a closer acquaintance
with Gazan, so Tarzan gave up his efforts for the time.
During the week which followed, Tarzan found his time
much occupied. His balu was a greater responsibility
than he had counted upon. Not for a moment did he dare
leave it, since of all the tribe, Teeka alone could have
been depended upon to refrain from slaying the hapless
black had it not been for Tarzan's constant watchfulness.
When the ape-man hunted, he must carry Go-bu-balu about
with him. It was irksome, and then the little black
seemed so stupid and fearful to Tarzan. It was quite
helpless against even the lesser of the jungle creatures.
Tarzan wondered how it had survived at all. He tried
to teach it, and found a ray of hope in the fact that
Go-bu-balu had mastered a few words of the language
of the anthropoids, and that he could now cling to a
high-tossed branch without screaming in fear; but there
was something about the child which worried Tarzan.
He often had watched the blacks within their village.
He had seen the children playing, and always there had
been much laughter; but little Go-bu-balu never laughed.
It was true that Tarzan himself never laughed. Upon occasion
he smiled, grimly, but to laughter he was a stranger.
The black, however, should have laughed, reasoned the ape-man.
It was the way of the Gomangani.
Also, he saw that the little fellow often refused food
and was growing thinner day by day. At times he surprised
the boy sobbing softly to himself. Tarzan tried to
comfort him, even as fierce Kala had comforted Tarzan
when the ape-man was a balu, but all to no avail.
Go-bu-balu merely no longer feared Tarzan--that was all.
He feared every other living thing within the jungle.
He feared the jungle days with their long excursions
through the dizzy tree tops. He feared the jungle nights
with their swaying, perilous couches far above the ground,
and the grunting and coughing of the great carnivora prowling
beneath him.
Tarzan did not know what to do. His heritage of English
blood rendered it a difficult thing even to consider
a surrender of his project, though he was forced to admit
to himself that his balu was not all that he had hoped.
Though he was faithful to his self-imposed task, and even
found that he had grown to like Go-bu-balu, he could
not deceive himself into believing that he felt for it
that fierce heat of passionate affection which Teeka
revealed for Gazan, and which the black mother had shown
for Go-bu-balu.
The little black boy from cringing terror at the sight of
Tarzan passed by degrees into trustfulness and admiration.
Only kindness had he ever received at the hands of the
great white devil-god, yet he had seen with what ferocity
his kindly captor could deal with others. He had seen him
leap upon a certain he-ape which persisted in attempting
to seize and slay Go-bu-balu. He had seen the strong,
white teeth of the ape-man fastened in the neck of
his adversary, and the mighty muscles tensed in battle.
He had heard the savage, bestial snarls and roars
of combat, and he had realized with a shudder that he
could not differentiate between those of his guardian
and those of the hairy ape.
He had seen Tarzan bring down a buck, just as Numa, the lion,
might have done, leaping upon its back and fastening his fangs
in the creature's neck. Tibo had shuddered at the sight,
but he had thrilled, too, and for the first time there
entered his dull, Negroid mind a vague desire to emulate
his savage foster parent. But Tibo, the little black boy,
lacked the divine spark which had permitted Tarzan,
the white boy, to benefit by his training in the ways
of the fierce jungle. In imagination he was wanting,
and imagination is but another name for super-intelligence.
Imagination it is which builds bridges, and cities,
and empires. The beasts know it not, the blacks only
a little, while to one in a hundred thousand of earth's
dominant race it is given as a gift from heaven that man
may not perish from the earth.
While Tarzan pondered his problem concerning the future
of his balu, Fate was arranging to take the matter out
of his hands. Momaya, Tibo's mother, grief-stricken at
the loss of her boy, had consulted the tribal witch-doctor,
but to no avail. The medicine he made was not good medicine,
for though Momaya paid him two goats for it, it did
not bring back Tibo, nor even indicate where she might
search for him with reasonable assurance of finding him.
Momaya, being of a short temper and of another people,
had little respect for the witch-doctor of her
husband's tribe, and so, when he suggested that a further
payment of two more fat goats would doubtless enable
him to make stronger medicine, she promptly loosed her
shrewish tongue upon him, and with such good effect that
he was glad to take himself off with his zebra's tail and his pot
of magic.
When he had gone and Momaya had succeeded in partially
subduing her anger, she gave herself over to thought,
as she so often had done since the abduction of her Tibo,
in the hope that she finally might discover some feasible
means of locating him, or at least assuring herself as to
whether he were alive or dead.
It was known to the blacks that Tarzan did not eat the flesh
of man, for he had slain more than one of their number,
yet never tasted the flesh of any. Too, the bodies
always had been found, sometimes dropping as though
from the clouds to alight in the center of the village.
As Tibo's body had not been found, Momaya argued that he
still lived, but where?
Then it was that there came to her mind a recollection
of Bukawai, the unclean, who dwelt in a cave in the hillside
to the north, and who it was well known entertained
devils in his evil lair. Few, if any, had the temerity
to visit old Bukawai, firstly because of fear of his black
magic and the two hyenas who dwelt with him and were
commonly known to be devils masquerading, and secondly
because of the loathsome disease which had caused Bukawai
to be an outcast--a disease which was slowly eating away his
face.
Now it was that Momaya reasoned shrewdly that if any might
know the whereabouts of her Tibo, it would be Bukawai,
who was in friendly intercourse with gods and demons,
since a demon or a god it was who had stolen her baby;
but even her great mother love was sorely taxed to find
the courage to send her forth into the black jungle toward
the distant hills and the uncanny abode of Bukawai,
the unclean, and his devils.
Mother love, however, is one of the human passions
which closely approximates to the dignity of an
irresistible force. It drives the frail flesh of weak
women to deeds of heroic measure. Momaya was neither frail
nor weak, physically, but she was a woman, an ignorant,
superstitious, African savage. She believed in devils,
in black magic, and in witchcraft. To Momaya, the jungle
was inhabited by far more terrifying things than lions
and leopards--horrifying, nameless things which possessed
the power of wreaking frightful harm under various innocent
guises.
From one of the warriors of the village, whom she knew
to have once stumbled upon the lair of Bukawai, the mother
of Tibo learned how she might find it--near a spring of
water which rose in a small rocky canon between two hills,
the easternmost of which was easily recognizable because
of a huge granite boulder which rested upon its summit.
The westerly hill was lower than its companion, and was
quite bare of vegetation except for a single mimosa tree
which grew just a little below its summit.
These two hills, the man assured her, could be seen
for some distance before she reached them, and together
formed an excellent guide to her destination.
He warned her, however, to abandon so foolish and
dangerous an adventure, emphasizing what she already
quite well knew, that if she escaped harm at the hands
of Bukawai and his demons, the chances were that she
would not be so fortunate with the great carnivora
of the jungle through which she must pass going and returning.
The warrior even went to Momaya's husband, who, in turn,
having little authority over the vixenish lady of his choice,
went to Mbonga, the chief. The latter summoned Momaya,
threatening her with the direst punishment should she
venture forth upon so unholy an excursion. The old
chief's interest in the matter was due solely to that
age-old alliance which exists between church and state.
The local witch-doctor, knowing his own medicine
better than any other knew it, was jealous of all
other pretenders to accomplishments in the black art.
He long had heard of the power of Bukawai, and feared lest,
should he succeed in recovering Momaya's lost child,
much of the tribal patronage and consequent fees would be
diverted to the unclean one. As Mbonga received, as chief,
a certain proportion of the witch-doctor's fees and could
expect nothing from Bukawai, his heart and soul were,
quite naturally, wrapped up in the orthodox church.
But if Momaya could view with intrepid heart an excursion
into the jungle and a visit to the fear-haunted abode
of Bukawai, she was not likely to be deterred by threats
of future punishment at the hands of old Mbonga,
whom she secretly despised. Yet she appeared to accede
to his injunctions, returning to her hut in silence.
She would have preferred starting upon her quest
by day-light, but this was now out of the question,
since she must carry food and a weapon of some sort--things
which she never could pass out of the village with by
day without being subjected to curious questioning
that surely would come immediately to the ears of Mbonga.
So Momaya bided her time until night, and just before the
gates of the village were closed, she slipped through into
the darkness and the jungle. She was much frightened,
but she set her face resolutely toward the north, and though
she paused often to listen, breathlessly, for the huge
cats which, here, were her greatest terror, she nevertheless
continued her way staunchly for several hours, until a low
moan a little to her right and behind her brought her to a sudden
stop.
With palpitating heart the woman stood, scarce daring
to breathe, and then, very faintly but unmistakable
to her keen ears, came the stealthy crunching of twigs
and grasses beneath padded feet.
All about Momaya grew the giant trees of the tropical jungle,
festooned with hanging vines and mosses. She seized
upon the nearest and started to clamber, apelike, to the
branches above. As she did so, there was a sudden
rush of a great body behind her, a menacing roar that
caused the earth to tremble, and something crashed
into the very creepers to which she was clinging--but below her.
Momaya drew herself to safety among the leafy branches and
thanked the foresight which had prompted her to bring along
the dried human ear which hung from a cord about her neck.
She always had known that that ear was good medicine.
It had been given her, when a girl, by the witch-doctor
of her town tribe, and was nothing like the poor,
weak medicine of Mbonga's witch-doctor.
All night Momaya clung to her perch, for although the
lion sought other prey after a short time, she dared
not descend into the darkness again, for fear she might
encounter him or another of his kind; but at daylight
she clambered down and resumed her way.
Tarzan of the Apes, finding that his balu never ceased to give
evidence of terror in the presence of the apes of the tribe,
and also that most of the adult apes were a constant menace
to Go-bu-balu's life, so that Tarzan dared not leave him
alone with them, took to hunting with the little black boy
farther and farther from the stamping grounds of the anthropoids.
Little by little his absences from the tribe grew in length
as he wandered farther away from them, until finally he
found himself a greater distance to the north than he ever
before had hunted, and with water and ample game and fruit,
he felt not at all inclined to return to the tribe.
Little Go-bu-balu gave evidences of a greater interest
in life, an interest which varied in direct proportion
to the distance he was from the apes of Kerchak.
He now trotted along behind Tarzan when the ape-man went
upon the ground, and in the trees he even did his best
to follow his mighty foster parent. The boy was still
sad and lonely. His thin, little body had grown steadily
thinner since he had come among the apes, for while,
as a young cannibal, he was not overnice in the matter
of diet, he found it not always to his taste to stomach
the weird things which tickled the palates of epicures
among the apes.
His large eyes were very large indeed now, his cheeks sunken,
and every rib of his emaciated body plainly discernible
to whomsoever should care to count them. Constant terror,
perhaps, had had as much to do with his physical condition as
had improper food. Tarzan noticed the change and was worried.
He had hoped to see his balu wax sturdy and strong.
His disappointment was great. In only one respect did
Go-bu-balu seem to progress--he readily was mastering
the language of the apes. Even now he and Tarzan could
converse in a fairly satisfactory manner by supplementing
the meager ape speech with signs; but for the most part,
Go-bu-balu was silent other than to answer questions put
to him. His great sorrow was yet too new and too poignant
to be laid aside even momentarily. Always he pined for
Momaya--shrewish, hideous, repulsive, perhaps, she would
have been to you or me, but to Tibo she was mamma,
the personification of that one great love which knows
no selfishness and which does not consume itself in its own
fires.
As the two hunted, or rather as Tarzan hunted and Go-bu-balu
tagged along in his wake, the ape-man noticed many things
and thought much. Once they came upon Sabor moaning in
the tall grasses. About her romped and played two little
balls of fur, but her eyes were for one which lay between
her great forepaws and did not romp, one who never would romp
again.
Tarzan read aright the anguish and the suffering of the
huge mother cat. He had been minded to bait her. It was
to do this that he had sneaked silently through the trees
until he had come almost above her, but something held the
ape-man as he saw the lioness grieving over her dead cub.
With the acquisition of Go-bu-balu, Tarzan had come
to realize the responsibilities and sorrows of parentage,
without its joys. His heart went out to Sabor as it might
not have done a few weeks before. As he watched her,
there rose quite unbidden before him a vision of Momaya,
the skewer through the septum of her nose, her pendulous
under lip sagging beneath the weight which dragged it down.
Tarzan saw not her unloveliness; he saw only the same anguish
that was Sabor's, and he winced. That strange functioning
of the mind which sometimes is called association of ideas
snapped Teeka and Gazan before the ape-man's mental vision.
What if one should come and take Gazan from Teeka.
Tarzan uttered a low and ominous growl as though Gazan were
his own. Go-bu-balu glanced here and there apprehensively,
thinking that Tarzan had espied an enemy. Sabor sprang
suddenly to her feet, her yellow-green eyes blazing,
her tail lashing as she cocked her ears, and raising
her muzzle, sniffed the air for possible danger.
The two little cubs, which had been playing, scampered
quickly to her, and standing beneath her, peered out
from between her forelegs, their big ears upstanding,
their little heads cocked first upon one side and then
upon the other.
With a shake of his black shock, Tarzan turned away
and resumed his hunting in another direction; but all day
there rose one after another, above the threshold of his
objective mind, memory portraits of Sabor, of Momaya,
and of Teeka--a lioness, a cannibal, and a she-ape, yet
to the ape-man they were identical through motherhood.
It was noon of the third day when Momaya came within
sight of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean. The old
witch-doctor had rigged a framework of interlaced boughs
to close the mouth of the cave from predatory beasts.
This was now set to one side, and the black cavern beyond
yawned mysterious and repellent. Momaya shivered as from
a cold wind of the rainy season. No sign of life appeared
about the cave, yet Momaya experienced that uncanny
sensation as of unseen eyes regarding her malevolently.
Again she shuddered. She tried to force her unwilling
feet onward toward the cave, when from its depths issued
an uncanny sound that was neither brute nor human, a weird
sound that was akin to mirthless laughter.
With a stifled scream, Momaya turned and fled into the jungle.
For a hundred yards she ran before she could control
her terror, and then she paused, listening. Was all
her labor, were all the terrors and dangers through
which she had passed to go for naught? She tried to steel
herself to return to the cave, but again fright overcame her.
Saddened, disheartened, she turned slowly upon the back trail
toward the village of Mbonga. Her young shoulders now were
drooped like those of an old woman who bears a great burden
of many years with their accumulated pains and sorrows,
and she walked with tired feet and a halting step.
The spring of youth was gone from Momaya.
For another hundred yards she dragged her weary way,
her brain half paralyzed from dumb terror and suffering,
and then there came to her the memory of a little babe
that suckled at her breast, and of a slim boy who romped,
laughing, about her, and they were both Tibo--her Tibo!
Her shoulders straightened. She shook her savage head,
and she turned about and walked boldly back to the
mouth of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean--of Bukawai,
the witch-doctor.
Again, from the interior of the cave came the hideous
laughter that was not laughter. This time Momaya
recognized it for what it was, the strange cry of a hyena.
No more did she shudder, but she held her spear ready
and called aloud to Bukawai to come out.
Instead of Bukawai came the repulsive head of a hyena.
Momaya poked at it with her spear, and the ugly,
sullen brute drew back with an angry growl. Again Momaya
called Bukawai by name, and this time there came an answer
in mumbling tones that were scarce more human than those
of the beast.
"Who comes to Bukawai?" queried the voice.
"It is Momaya," replied the woman; "Momaya from the village
of Mbonga, the chief.
"What do you want?"
"I want good medicine, better medicine than Mbonga's witch-doctor
can make," replied Momaya. "The great, white, jungle god
has stolen my Tibo, and I want medicine to bring him back,
or to find where he is hidden that I may go and get him."
"Who is Tibo?" asked Bukawai.
Momaya told him.
"Bukawai's medicine is very strong," said the voice.
"Five goats and a new sleeping mat are scarce enough in
exchange for Bukawai's medicine."
"Two goats are enough," said Momaya, for the spirit
of barter is strong in the breasts of the blacks.
The pleasure of haggling over the price was a sufficiently
potent lure to draw Bukawai to the mouth of the cave.
Momaya was sorry when she saw him that he had not
remained within. There are some things too horrible,
too hideous, too repulsive for description--Bukawai's face
was of these. When Momaya saw him she understood why it
was that he was almost inarticulate.
Beside him were two hyenas, which rumor had said were his
only and constant companions. They made an excellent
trio--the most repulsive of beasts with the most repulsive
of humans.
"Five goats and a new sleeping mat," mumbled Bukawai.
"Two fat goats and a sleeping mat." Momaya raised her bid;
but Bukawai was obdurate. He stuck for the five goats
and the sleeping mat for a matter of half an hour,
while the hyenas sniffed and growled and laughed hideously.
Momaya was determined to give all that Bukawai asked
if she could do no better, but haggling is second nature
to black barterers, and in the end it partly repaid her,
for a compromise finally was reached which included
three fat goats, a new sleeping mat, and a piece of
copper wire.
"Come back tonight," said Bukawai, "when the moon is two
hours in the sky. Then will I make the strong medicine
which shall bring Tibo back to you. Bring with you
the three fat goats, the new sleeping mat, and the piece
of copper wire the length of a large man's forearm."
"I cannot bring them," said Momaya. "You will have
to come after them. When you have restored Tibo to me,
you shall have them all at the village of Mbonga.
Bukawai shook his head.
"I will make no medicine," he said, "until I have
the goats and the mat and the copper wire."
Momaya pleaded and threatened, but all to no avail.
Finally, she turned away and started off through the jungle
toward the village of Mbonga. How she could get three
goats and a sleeping mat out of the village and through
the jungle to the cave of Bukawai, she did not know,
but that she would do it somehow she was quite positive--she
would do it or die. Tibo must be restored to her.
Tarzan coming lazily through the jungle with little Go-bu-balu,
caught the scent of Bara, the deer. Tarzan hungered for
the flesh of Bara. Naught tickled his palate so greatly;
but to stalk Bara with Go-bu-balu at his heels, was out
of the question, so he hid the child in the crotch of
a tree where the thick foliage screened him from view,
and set off swiftly and silently upon the spoor of Bara.
Tibo alone was more terrified than Tibo even among the apes.
Real and apparent dangers are less disconcerting than
those which we imagine, and only the gods of his people
knew how much Tibo imagined.
He had been but a short time in his hiding place when
he heard something approaching through the jungle.
He crouched closer to the limb upon which he lay and prayed
that Tarzan would return quickly. His wide eyes searched
the jungle in the direction of the moving creature.
What if it was a leopard that had caught his scent! It would
be upon him in a minute. Hot tears flowed from the large
eyes of little Tibo. The curtain of jungle foliage rustled
close at hand. The thing was but a few paces from his tree!
His eyes fairly popped from his black face as he watched
for the appearance of the dread creature which presently would
thrust a snarling countenance from between the vines and
creepers.
And then the curtain parted and a woman stepped into
full view. With a gasping cry, Tibo tumbled from his
perch and raced toward her. Momaya suddenly started
back and raised her spear, but a second later she cast
it aside and caught the thin body in her strong arms.
Crushing it to her, she cried and laughed all at one and
the same time, and hot tears of joy, mingled with the tears
of Tibo, trickled down the crease between her naked breasts.
Disturbed by the noise so close at hand, there arose
from his sleep in a near-by thicket Numa, the lion.
He looked through the tangled underbrush and saw
the black woman and her young. He licked his chops
and measured the distance between them and himself.
A short charge and a long leap would carry him upon them.
He flicked the end of his tail and sighed.
A vagrant breeze, swirling suddenly in the wrong direction,
carried the scent of Tarzan to the sensitive nostrils
of Bara, the deer. There was a startled tensing of muscles
and cocking of ears, a sudden dash, and Tarzan's meat
was gone. The ape-man angrily shook his head and turned
back toward the spot where he had left Go-bu-balu. He
came softly, as was his way. Before he reached the spot
he heard strange sounds--the sound of a woman laughing
and of a woman weeping, and the two which seemed to come
from one throat were mingled with the convulsive sobbing
of a child. Tarzan hastened, and when Tarzan hastened,
only the birds and the wind went faster.
And as Tarzan approached the sounds, he heard another,
a deep sigh. Momaya did not hear it, nor did Tibo;
but the ears of Tarzan were as the ears of Bara, the deer.
He heard the sigh, and he knew, so he unloosed the heavy
spear which dangled at his back. Even as he sped through
the branches of the trees, with the same ease that you
or I might take out a pocket handkerchief as we strolled
nonchalantly down a lazy country lane, Tarzan of the Apes
took the spear from its thong that it might be ready against
any emergency.
Numa, the lion, did not rush madly to attack.
He reasoned again, and reason told him that already the prey
was his, so he pushed his great bulk through the foliage
and stood eyeing his meat with baleful, glaring eyes.
Momaya saw him and shrieked, drawing Tibo closer to her breast.
To have found her child and to lose him, all in a moment!
She raised her spear, throwing her hand far back of
her shoulder. Numa roared and stepped slowly forward.
Momaya cast her weapon. It grazed the tawny shoulder,
inflicting a flesh wound which aroused all the terrific
bestiality of the carnivore, and the lion charged.
Momaya tried to close her eyes, but could not. She saw
the flashing swiftness of the huge, oncoming death,
and then she saw something else. She saw a mighty,
naked white man drop as from the heavens into the path
of the charging lion. She saw the muscles of a great arm
flash in the light of the equatorial sun as it filtered,
dappling, through the foliage above. She saw a heavy
hunting spear hurtle through the air to meet the lion
in midleap.
Numa brought up upon his haunches, roaring terribly and striking
at the spear which protruded from his breast. His great blows
bent and twisted the weapon. Tarzan, crouching and with
hunting knife in hand, circled warily about the frenzied cat.
Momaya, wide-eyed, stood rooted to the spot, watching,
fascinated.
In sudden fury Numa hurled himself toward the ape-man,
but the wiry creature eluded the blundering charge,
side-stepping quickly only to rush in upon his foe.
Twice the hunting blade flashed in the air. Twice it fell
upon the back of Numa, already weakening from the spear
point so near his heart. The second stroke of the blade
pierced far into the beast's spine, and with a last
convulsive sweep of the fore-paws, in a vain attempt
to reach his tormentor, Numa sprawled upon the ground,
paralyzed and dying.
Bukawai, fearful lest he should lose any recompense,
followed Momaya with the intention of persuading her
to part with her ornaments of copper and iron against
her return with the price of the medicine--to pay,
as it were, for an option on his services as one pays
a retaining fee to an attorney, for, like an attorney,
Bukawai knew the value of his medicine and that it was
well to collect as much as possible in advance.
The witch-doctor came upon the scene as Tarzan leaped
to meet the lion's charge. He saw it all and marveled,
guessing immediately that this must be the strange white
demon concerning whom he had heard vague rumors before
Momaya came to him.
Momaya, now that the lion was past harming her or hers,
gazed with new terror upon Tarzan. It was he who had stolen
her Tibo. Doubtless he would attempt to steal him again.
Momaya hugged the boy close to her. She was determined
to die this time rather than suffer Tibo to be taken from
her again.
Tarzan eyed them in silence. The sight of the boy clinging,
sobbing, to his mother aroused within his savage breast
a melancholy loneliness. There was none thus to cling
to Tarzan, who yearned so for the love of someone,
of something.
At last Tibo looked up, because of the quiet that had
fallen upon the jungle, and saw Tarzan. He did not shrink.
"Tarzan," he said, in the speech of the great apes of the
tribe of Kerchak, "do not take me from Momaya, my mother.
Do not take me again to the lair of the hairy, tree men,
for I fear Taug and Gunto and the others. Let me stay
with Momaya, O Tarzan, God of the Jungle! Let me stay
with Momaya, my mother, and to the end of our days we will
bless you and put food before the gates of the village
of Mbonga that you may never hunger."
Tarzan sighed.
"Go," he said, "back to the village of Mbonga, and Tarzan
will follow to see that no harm befalls you."
Tibo translated the words to his mother, and the two turned
their backs upon the ape-man and started off toward home.
In the heart of Momaya was a great fear and a great exultation,
for never before had she walked with God, and never had
she been so happy. She strained little Tibo to her,
stroking his thin cheek. Tarzan saw and sighed again.
"For Teeka there is Teeka's balu," he soliloquized;
"for Sabor there are balus, and for the she-Gomangani,
and for Bara, and for Manu, and even for Pamba, the rat;
but for Tarzan there can be none--neither a she nor a balu.
Tarzan of the Apes is a man, and it must be that man
walks alone."
Bukawai saw them go, and he mumbled through his rotting face,
swearing a great oath that he would yet have the three
fat goats, the new sleeping mat, and the bit of copper wire.
