9
The Nightmare
THE BLACKS OF the village of Mbonga, the chief, were feasting,
while above them in a large tree sat Tarzan of the
Apes--grim, terrible, empty, and envious. Hunting had
proved poor that day, for there are lean days as well
as fat ones for even the greatest of the jungle hunters.
Oftentimes Tarzan went empty for more than a full sun,
and he had passed through entire moons during which he
had been but barely able to stave off starvation;
but such times were infrequent.
There once had been a period of sickness among the
grass-eaters which had left the plains almost bare of game
for several years, and again the great cats had increased
so rapidly and so overrun the country that their prey,
which was also Tarzan's, had been frightened off for a
considerable time.
But for the most part Tarzan had fed well always.
Today, though, he had gone empty, one misfortune following
another as rapidly as he raised new quarry, so that now,
as he sat perched in the tree above the feasting blacks,
he experienced all the pangs of famine and his hatred
for his lifelong enemies waxed strong in his breast.
It was tantalizing, indeed, to sit there hungry while
these Gomangani filled themselves so full of food that
their stomachs seemed almost upon the point of bursting,
and with elephant steaks at that!
It was true that Tarzan and Tantor were the best of friends,
and that Tarzan never yet had tasted of the flesh of
the elephant; but the Gomangani evidently had slain one,
and as they were eating of the flesh of their kill,
Tarzan was assailed by no doubts as to the ethics
of his doing likewise, should he have the opportunity.
Had he known that the elephant had died of sickness
several days before the blacks discovered the carcass,
he might not have been so keen to partake of the feast,
for Tarzan of the Apes was no carrion-eater. Hunger,
however, may blunt the most epicurean taste, and Tarzan
was not exactly an epicure.
What he was at this moment was a very hungry wild beast
whom caution was holding in leash, for the great cooking
pot in the center of the village was surrounded by
black warriors, through whom not even Tarzan of the Apes
might hope to pass unharmed. It would be necessary,
therefore, for the watcher to remain there hungry until
the blacks had gorged themselves to stupor, and then,
if they had left any scraps, to make the best meal he
could from such; but to the impatient Tarzan it seemed
that the greedy Gomangani would rather burst than leave
the feast before the last morsel had been devoured.
For a time they broke the monotony of eating by executing
portions of a hunting dance, a maneuver which sufficiently
stimulated digestion to permit them to fall to once more
with renewed vigor; but with the consumption of appalling
quantities of elephant meat and native beer they presently
became too loggy for physical exertion of any sort,
some reaching a stage where they no longer could rise
from the ground, but lay conveniently close to the great
cooking pot, stuffing themselves into unconsciousness.
It was well past midnight before Tarzan even could begin
to see the end of the orgy. The blacks were now falling
asleep rapidly; but a few still persisted. From before
their condition Tarzan had no doubt but that he easily
could enter the village and snatch a handful of meat from
before their noses; but a handful was not what he wanted.
Nothing less than a stomachful would allay the gnawing
craving of that great emptiness. He must therefore have
ample time to forage in peace.
At last but a single warrior remained true to his ideals--
an old fellow whose once wrinkled belly was now as smooth
and as tight as the head of a drum. With evidences
of great discomfort, and even pain, he would crawl toward
the pot and drag himself slowly to his knees, from which
position he could reach into the receptacle and seize
a piece of meat. Then he would roll over on his back
with a loud groan and lie there while he slowly forced
the food between his teeth and down into his gorged stomach.
It was evident to Tarzan that the old fellow would
eat until he died, or until there was no more meat.
The ape-man shook his head in disgust. What foul
creatures were these Gomangani? Yet of all the jungle
folk they alone resembled Tarzan closely in form.
Tarzan was a man, and they, too, must be some manner of men,
just as the little monkeys, and the great apes, and Bolgani,
the gorilla, were quite evidently of one great family,
though differing in size and appearance and customs.
Tarzan was ashamed, for of all the beasts of the jungle,
then, man was the most disgusting--man and Dango, the hyena.
Only man and Dango ate until they swelled up like a dead rat.
Tarzan had seen Dango eat his way into the carcass of a dead
elephant and then continue to eat so much that he had been
unable to get out of the hole through which he had entered.
Now he could readily believe that man, given the opportunity,
would do the same. Man, too, was the most unlovely
of creatures--with his skinny legs and his big stomach,
his filed teeth, and his thick, red lips. Man was disgusting.
Tarzan's gaze was riveted upon the hideous old warrior
wallowing in filth beneath him.
There! the thing was struggling to its knees to reach
for another morsel of flesh. It groaned aloud in pain
and yet it persisted in eating, eating, ever eating.
Tarzan could endure it no longer--neither his hunger nor
his disgust. Silently he slipped to the ground with the
bole of the great tree between himself and the feaster.
The man was still kneeling, bent almost double in agony,
before the cooking pot. His back was toward the ape-man.
Swiftly and noiselessly Tarzan approached him. There was
no sound as steel fingers closed about the black throat.
The struggle was short, for the man was old and already half
stupefied from the effects of the gorging and the beer.
Tarzan dropped the inert mass and scooped several large
pieces of meat from the cooking pot--enough to satisfy even
his great hunger--then he raised the body of the feaster
and shoved it into the vessel. When the other blacks awoke
they would have something to think about! Tarzan grinned.
As he turned toward the tree with his meat, he picked
up a vessel containing beer and raised it to his lips,
but at the first taste he spat the stuff from his mouth
and tossed the primitive tankard aside. He was quite
sure that even Dango would draw the line at such filthy
tasting drink as that, and his contempt for man increased
with the conviction.
Tarzan swung off into the jungle some half mile or
so before he paused to partake of his stolen food.
He noticed that it gave forth a strange and unpleasant odor,
but assumed that this was due to the fact that it had
stood in a vessel of water above a fire. Tarzan was,
of course, unaccustomed to cooked food. He did not like it;
but he was very hungry and had eaten a considerable
portion of his haul before it was really borne in upon
him that the stuff was nauseating. It required far less
than he had imagined it would to satisfy his appetite.
Throwing the balance to the ground he curled up in a
convenient crotch and sought slumber; but slumber seemed
difficult to woo. Ordinarily Tarzan of the Apes was asleep
as quickly as a dog after it curls itself upon a hearthrug
before a roaring blaze; but tonight he squirmed and twisted,
for at the pit of his stomach was a peculiar feeling
that resembled nothing more closely than an attempt upon
the part of the fragments of elephant meat reposing there
to come out into the night and search for their elephant;
but Tarzan was adamant. He gritted his teeth and held
them back. He was not to be robbed of his meal after
waiting so long to obtain it.
He had succeeded in dozing when the roaring of a lion
awoke him. He sat up to discover that it was broad daylight.
Tarzan rubbed his eyes. Could it be that he had really
slept? He did not feel particularly refreshed as he
should have after a good sleep. A noise attracted
his attention, and he looked down to see a lion standing
at the foot of the tree gazing hungrily at him.
Tarzan made a face at the king of beasts, whereat Numa,
greatly to the ape-man's surprise, started to climb up into
the branches toward him. Now, never before had Tarzan seen
a lion climb a tree, yet, for some unaccountable reason,
he was not greatly surprised that this particular lion
should do so.
As the lion climbed slowly toward him, Tarzan sought
higher branches; but to his chagrin, he discovered that it
was with the utmost difficulty that he could climb at all.
Again and again he slipped back, losing all that he
had gained, while the lion kept steadily at his climbing,
coming ever closer and closer to the ape-man. Tarzan
could see the hungry light in the yellow-green eyes.
He could see the slaver on the drooping jowls,
and the great fangs agape to seize and destroy him.
Clawing desperately, the ape-man at last succeeded in gaining
a little upon his pursuer. He reached the more slender
branches far aloft where he well knew no lion could follow;
yet on and on came devil-faced Numa. It was incredible;
but it was true. Yet what most amazed Tarzan was
that though he realized the incredibility of it all,
he at the same time accepted it as a matter of course,
first that a lion should climb at all and second that he
should enter the upper terraces where even Sheeta, the panther,
dared not venture.
To the very top of a tall tree the ape-man clawed his awkward
way and after him came Numa, the lion, moaning dismally.
At last Tarzan stood balanced upon the very utmost pinnacle
of a swaying branch, high above the forest. He could go
no farther. Below him the lion came steadily upward,
and Tarzan of the Apes realized that at last the end had come.
He could not do battle upon a tiny branch with Numa,
the lion, especially with such a Numa, to which swaying
branches two hundred feet above the ground provided as
substantial footing as the ground itself.
Nearer and nearer came the lion. Another moment and he
could reach up with one great paw and drag the ape-man
downward to those awful jaws. A whirring noise above
his head caused Tarzan to glance apprehensively upward.
A great bird was circling close above him. He never had
seen so large a bird in all his life, yet he recognized
it immediately, for had he not seen it hundreds of times
in one of the books in the little cabin by the land-locked
bay--the moss-grown cabin that with its contents was
the sole heritage left by his dead and unknown father
to the young Lord Greystoke?
In the picture-book the great bird was shown flying far
above the ground with a small child in its talons while,
beneath, a distracted mother stood with uplifted hands.
The lion was already reaching forth a taloned paw to seize
him when the bird swooped and buried no less formidable
talons in Tarzan's back. The pain was numbing; but it
was with a sense of relief that the ape-man felt himself
snatched from the clutches of Numa.
With a great whirring of wings the bird rose rapidly
until the forest lay far below. It made Tarzan sick
and dizzy to look down upon it from so great a height,
so he closed his eyes tight and held his breath. Higher and
higher climbed the huge bird. Tarzan opened his eyes.
The jungle was so far away that he could see only a dim,
green blur below him, but just above and quite close was
the sun. Tarzan reached out his hands and warmed them,
for they were very cold. Then a sudden madness seized him.
Where was the bird taking him? Was he to submit thus
passively to a feathered creature however enormous? Was he,
Tarzan of the Apes, mighty fighter, to die without striking
a blow in his own defense? Never!
He snatched the hunting blade from his gee-string
and thrusting upward drove it once, twice, thrice into
the breast above him. The mighty wings fluttered a few
more times, spasmodically, the talons relaxed their hold,
and Tarzan of the Apes fell hurtling downward toward
the distant jungle.
It seemed to the ape-man that he fell for many minutes before
he crashed through the leafy verdure of the tree tops.
The smaller branches broke his fall, so that he came
to rest for an instant upon the very branch upon which he
had sought slumber the previous night. For an instant he
toppled there in a frantic attempt to regain his equilibrium;
but at last he rolled off, yet, clutching wildly,
he succeeded in grasping the branch and hanging on.
Once more he opened his eyes, which he had closed during
the fall. Again it was night. With all his old agility he
clambered back to the crotch from which he had toppled.
Below him a lion roared, and, looking downward, Tarzan could
see the yellow-green eyes shining in the moonlight as they
bored hungrily upward through the darkness of the jungle
night toward him.
The ape-man gasped for breath. Cold sweat stood out
from every pore, there was a great sickness at the pit
of Tarzan's stomach. Tarzan of the Apes had dreamed
his first dream.
For a long time he sat watching for Numa to climb into the tree
after him, and listening for the sound of the great wings
from above, for to Tarzan of the Apes his dream was a reality.
He could not believe what he had seen and yet,
having seen even these incredible things, he could
not disbelieve the evidence of his own perceptions.
Never in all his life had Tarzan's senses deceived
him badly, and so, naturally, he had great faith in them.
Each perception which ever had been transmitted to Tarzan's
brain had been, with varying accuracy, a true perception.
He could not conceive of the possibility of apparently
having passed through such a weird adventure in which there
was no grain of truth. That a stomach, disordered by
decayed elephant flesh, a lion roaring in the jungle,
a picture-book, and sleep could have so truly portrayed
all the clear-cut details of what he had seemingly
experienced was quite beyond his knowledge; yet he knew
that Numa could not climb a tree, he knew that there
existed in the jungle no such bird as he had seen,
and he knew, too, that he could not have fallen a tiny
fraction of the distance he had hurtled downward, and lived.
To say the least, he was a very puzzled Tarzan as he tried
to compose himself once more for slumber--a very puzzled
and a very nauseated Tarzan.
As he thought deeply upon the strange occurrences of
the night, he witnessed another remarkable happening.
It was indeed quite preposterous, yet he saw it all
with his own eyes--it was nothing less than Histah,
the snake, wreathing his sinuous and slimy way up the bole
of the tree below him--Histah, with the head of the old
man Tarzan had shoved into the cooking pot--the head and
the round, tight, black, distended stomach. As the old
man's frightful face, with upturned eyes, set and glassy,
came close to Tarzan, the jaws opened to seize him.
The ape-man struck furiously at the hideous face, and as he
struck the apparition disappeared.
Tarzan sat straight up upon his branch trembling in
every limb, wide-eyed and panting. He looked all around
him with his keen, jungle-trained eyes, but he saw naught
of the old man with the body of Histah, the snake,
but on his naked thigh the ape-man saw a caterpillar,
dropped from a branch above him. With a grimace he
flicked it off into the darkness beneath.
And so the night wore on, dream following dream, nightmare
following nightmare, until the distracted ape-man started
like a frightened deer at the rustling of the wind in the
trees about him, or leaped to his feet as the uncanny laugh
of a hyena burst suddenly upon a momentary jungle silence.
But at last the tardy morning broke and a sick and feverish
Tarzan wound sluggishly through the dank and gloomy mazes
of the forest in search of water. His whole body seemed
on fire, a great sickness surged upward to his throat.
He saw a tangle of almost impenetrable thicket, and,
like the wild beast he was, he crawled into it to die
alone and unseen, safe from the attacks of predatory carnivora.
But he did not die. For a long time he wanted to;
but presently nature and an outraged stomach relieved
themselves in their own therapeutic manner, the ape-man broke
into a violent perspiration and then fell into a normal and
untroubled sleep which persisted well into the afternoon.
When he awoke he found himself weak but no longer sick.
Once more he sought water, and after drinking deeply,
took his way slowly toward the cabin by the sea.
In times of loneliness and trouble it had long been his
custom to seek there the quiet and restfulness which he
could find nowhere else.
As he approached the cabin and raised the crude latch
which his father had fashioned so many years before,
two small, blood-shot eyes watched him from the concealing
foliage of the jungle close by. From beneath shaggy,
beetling brows they glared maliciously upon him,
maliciously and with a keen curiosity; then Tarzan entered
the cabin and closed the door after him. Here, with all
the world shut out from him, he could dream without
fear of interruption. He could curl up and look at
the pictures in the strange things which were books,
he could puzzle out the printed word he had learned to read
without knowledge of the spoken language it represented,
he could live in a wonderful world of which he had no
knowledge beyond the covers of his beloved books.
Numa and Sabor might prowl about close to him, the elements
might rage in all their fury; but here at least,
Tarzan might be entirely off his guard in a delightful
relaxation which gave him all his faculties for the
uninterrupted pursuit of this greatest of all his pleasures.
Today he turned to the picture of the huge bird which bore
off the little Tarmangani in its talons. Tarzan puckered
his brows as he examined the colored print. Yes, this was
the very bird that had carried him off the day before,
for to Tarzan the dream had been so great a reality
that he still thought another day and a night had passed
since he had lain down in the tree to sleep.
But the more he thought upon the matter the less positive
he was as to the verity of the seeming adventure through
which he had passed, yet where the real had ceased and
the unreal commenced he was quite unable to determine.
Had he really then been to the village of the blacks at all,
had he killed the old Gomangani, had he eaten of the
elephant meat, had he been sick? Tarzan scratched his
tousled black head and wondered. It was all very strange,
yet he knew that he never had seen Numa climb a tree,
or Histah with the head and belly of an old black man whom
Tarzan already had slain.
Finally, with a sigh he gave up trying to fathom
the unfathomable, yet in his heart of hearts he knew
that something had come into his life that he never before
had experienced, another life which existed when he slept
and the consciousness of which was carried over into his waking
hours.
Then he commenced to wonder if some of these strange
creatures which he met in his sleep might not slay him,
for at such times Tarzan of the Apes seemed to be a
different Tarzan, sluggish, helpless and timid--wishing
to flee his enemies as fled Bara, the deer, most fearful
of creatures.
Thus, with a dream, came the first faint tinge of a knowledge
of fear, a knowledge which Tarzan, awake, had never experienced,
and perhaps he was experiencing what his early forbears
passed through and transmitted to posterity in the form of
superstition first and religion later; for they, as Tarzan,
had seen things at night which they could not explain
by the daylight standards of sense perception or of reason,
and so had built for themselves a weird explanation
which included grotesque shapes, possessed of strange
and uncanny powers, to whom they finally came to attribute
all those inexplicable phenomena of nature which with
each recurrence filled them with awe, with wonder, or with
terror.
And as Tarzan concentrated his mind on the little bugs
upon the printed page before him, the active recollection
of the strange adventures presently merged into the text
of that which he was reading--a story of Bolgani,
the gorilla, in captivity. There was a more or less
lifelike illustration of Bolgani in colors and in a cage,
with many remarkable looking Tarmangani standing against
a rail and peering curiously at the snarling brute.
Tarzan wondered not a little, as he always did, at the odd
and seemingly useless array of colored plumage which covered
the bodies of the Tarmangani. It always caused him to grin
a trifle when he looked at these strange creatures.
He wondered if they so covered their bodies from shame
of their hairlessness or because they thought the odd things
they wore added any to the beauty of their appearance.
Particularly was Tarzan amused by the grotesque headdresses
of the pictured people. He wondered how some of the shes
succeeded in balancing theirs in an upright position,
and he came as near to laughing aloud as he ever had,
as he contemplated the funny little round things upon
the heads of the hes.
Slowly the ape-man picked out the meaning of the various
combinations of letters on the printed page, and as he read,
the little bugs, for as such he always thought of the letters,
commenced to run about in a most confusing manner,
blurring his vision and befuddling his thoughts.
Twice he brushed the back of a hand smartly across his eyes;
but only for a moment could he bring the bugs back
to coherent and intelligible form. He had slept ill the
night before and now he was exhausted from loss of sleep,
from sickness, and from the slight fever he had had,
so that it became more and more difficult to fix his attention,
or to keep his eyes open.
Tarzan realized that he was falling asleep, and just
as the realization was borne in upon him and he had
decided to relinquish himself to an inclination which
had assumed almost the proportions of a physical pain,
he was aroused by the opening of the cabin door.
Turning quickly toward the interruption Tarzan was amazed,
for a moment, to see bulking large in the doorway the huge
and hairy form of Bolgani, the gorilla.
Now there was scarcely a denizen of the great jungle
with whom Tarzan would rather not have been cooped up
inside the small cabin than Bolgani, the gorilla, yet he
felt no fear, even though his quick eye noted that Bolgani
was in the throes of that jungle madness which seizes
upon so many of the fiercer males. Ordinarily the huge
gorillas avoid conflict, hide themselves from the other
jungle folk, and are generally the best of neighbors;
but when they are attacked, or the madness seizes them,
there is no jungle denizen so bold and fierce as to
deliberately seek a quarrel with them.
But for Tarzan there was no escape. Bolgani was glowering
at him from red-rimmed, wicked eyes. In a moment he
would rush in and seize the ape-man. Tarzan reached
for the hunting knife where he had lain it on the table
beside him; but as his fingers did not immediately locate
the weapon, he turned a quick glance in search of it.
As he did so his eyes fell upon the book he had been
looking at which still lay open at the picture of Bolgani.
Tarzan found his knife, but he merely fingered it idly
and grinned in the direction of the advancing gorilla.
Not again would he be fooled by empty things which came
while he slept! In a moment, no doubt, Bolgani would turn
into Pamba, the rat, with the head of Tantor, the elephant.
Tarzan had seen enough of such strange happenings
recently to have some idea as to what he might expect;
but this time Bolgani did not alter his form as he came
slowly toward the young ape-man.
Tarzan was a bit puzzled, too, that he felt no desire
to rush frantically to some place of safety, as had been
the sensation most conspicuous in the other of his new
and remarkable adventures. He was just himself now,
ready to fight, if necessary; but still sure that no flesh
and blood gorilla stood before him.
The thing should be fading away into thin air by now,
thought Tarzan, or changing into something else;
yet it did not. Instead it loomed clear-cut and real
as Bolgani himself, the magnificent dark coat glistening
with life and health in a bar of sunlight which shot
across the cabin through the high window behind the young
Lord Greystoke. This was quite the most realistic
of his sleep adventures, thought Tarzan, as he passively
awaited the next amusing incident.
And then the gorilla charged. Two mighty, calloused hands
seized upon the ape-man, great fangs were bared close
to his face, a hideous growl burst from the cavernous
throat and hot breath fanned Tarzan's cheek, and still he
sat grinning at the apparition. Tarzan might be fooled
once or twice, but not for so many times in succession!
He knew that this Bolgani was no real Bolgani, for had he
been he never could have gained entrance to the cabin,
since only Tarzan knew how to operate the latch.
The gorilla seemed puzzled by the strange passivity of the
hairless ape. He paused an instant with his jaws snarling
close to the other's throat, then he seemed suddenly
to come to some decision. Whirling the ape-man across
a hairy shoulder, as easily as you or I might lift a babe
in arms, Bolgani turned and dashed out into the open,
racing toward the great trees.
Now, indeed, was Tarzan sure that this was a sleep
adventure, and so grinned largely as the giant gorilla
bore him, unresisting, away. Presently, reasoned Tarzan,
he would awaken and find himself back in the cabin
where he had fallen asleep. He glanced back at the
thought and saw the cabin door standing wide open.
This would never do! Always had he been careful to close
and latch it against wild intruders. Manu, the monkey,
would make sad havoc there among Tarzan's treasures should
he have access to the interior for even a few minutes.
The question which arose in Tarzan's mind was a baffling one.
Where did sleep adventures end and reality commence? How
was he to be sure that the cabin door was not really open?
Everything about him appeared quite normal--there were none
of the grotesque exaggerations of his former sleep adventures.
It would be better then to be upon the safe side and make
sure that the cabin door was closed--it would do no harm
even if all that seemed to be happening were not happening at
all.
Tarzan essayed to slip from Bolgani's shoulder; but the
great beast only growled ominously and gripped him tighter.
With a mighty effort the ape-man wrenched himself loose,
and as he slid to the ground, the dream gorilla turned
ferociously upon him, seized him once more and buried
great fangs in a sleek, brown shoulder.
The grin of derision faded from Tarzan's lips as the pain
and the hot blood aroused his fighting instincts.
Asleep or awake, this thing was no longer a joke! Biting,
tearing, and snarling, the two rolled over upon the ground.
The gorilla now was frantic with insane rage. Again and again
he loosed his hold upon the ape-man's shoulder in an attempt
to seize the jugular; but Tarzan of the Apes had fought
before with creatures who struck first for the vital vein,
and each time he wriggled out of harm's way as he
strove to get his fingers upon his adversary's throat.
At last he succeeded--his great muscles tensed and knotted
beneath his smooth hide as he forced with every ounce
of his mighty strength to push the hairy torso from him.
And as he choked Bolgani and strained him away,
his other hand crept slowly upward between them until
the point of the hunting knife rested over the savage
heart--there was a quick movement of the steel-thewed
wrist and the blade plunged to its goal.
Bolgani, the gorilla, voiced a single frightful shriek,
tore himself loose from the grasp of the ape-man, rose to
his feet, staggered a few steps and then plunged to earth.
There were a few spasmodic movements of the limbs and the
brute was still.
Tarzan of the Apes stood looking down upon his kill,
and as he stood there he ran his fingers through his thick,
black shock of hair. Presently he stooped and touched
the dead body. Some of the red life-blood of the gorilla
crimsoned his fingers. He raised them to his nose and sniffed.
Then he shook his head and turned toward the cabin.
The door was still open. He closed it and fastened the latch.
Returning toward the body of his kill he again paused
and scratched his head.
If this was a sleep adventure, what then was reality? How
was he to know the one from the other? How much of all
that had happened in his life had been real and how much
unreal?
He placed a foot upon the prostrate form and raising his face
to the heavens gave voice to the kill cry of the bull ape.
Far in the distance a lion answered. It was very real and,
yet, he did not know. Puzzled, he turned away into the jungle.
No, he did not know what was real and what was not;
but there was one thing that he did know--never again
would he eat of the flesh of Tantor, the elephant.
