The Return of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs (i love reading txt) 📖

As the three squatted upon the roof above the quarters of the Ouled-Nails they heard the angry cursing of the Arabs in the room beneath. Abdul translated from time to time to Tarzan.

“They are berating those in the street below now,” said Abdul, “for permitting us to escape so easily. Those in the street say that we did not come that way—that we are still within the building, and that those above, being too cowardly to attack us, are attempting to deceive them into believing that we have escaped. In a moment they will have fighting of their own to attend to if they continue their brawling.”

Presently those in the building gave up the search, and returned to the cafe. A few remained in the street below, smoking and talking.

Tarzan spoke to the girl, thanking her for the sacrifice she had made for him, a total stranger.

“I liked you,” she said simply. “You were unlike the others who come to the cafe. You did not speak coarsely to me—the manner in which you gave me money was not an insult.”

“What shall you do after tonight?” he asked. “You cannot return to the cafe. Can you even remain with safety in Sidi Aissa?”

“Tomorrow it will be forgotten,” she replied. “But I should be glad if it might be that I need never return to this or another cafe. I have not remained because I wished to; I have been a prisoner.”

“A prisoner!” ejaculated Tarzan incredulously.

“A slave would be the better word,” she answered. “I was stolen in the night from my father’s DOUAR by a band of marauders. They brought me here and sold me to the Arab who keeps this cafe. It has been nearly two years now since I saw the last of mine own people. They are very far to the south. They never come to Sidi Aissa.”

“You would like to return to your people?” asked Tarzan. “Then I shall promise to see you safely so far as Bou Saada at least. There we can doubtless arrange with the commandant to send you the rest of the way.”

“Oh, m’sieur,” she cried, “how can I ever repay you! You cannot really mean that you will do so much for a poor Ouled-Nail. But my father can reward you, and he will, for is he not a great sheik? He is Kadour ben Saden.”

“Kadour ben Saden!” ejaculated Tarzan. “Why, Kadour ben Saden is in Sidi Aissa this very night. He dined with me but a few hours since.”

“My father in Sidi Aissa?” cried the amazed girl. “Allah be praised then, for I am indeed saved.”

“Hssh!” cautioned Abdul. “Listen.”

From below came the sound of voices, quite distinguishable upon the still night air. Tarzan could not understand the words, but Abdul and the girl translated.

“They have gone now,” said the latter. “It is you they want, m’sieur. One of them said that the stranger who had offered money for your slaying lay in the house of Akmed din Soulef with a broken wrist, but that he had offered a still greater reward if some would lay in wait for you upon the road to Bou Saada and kill you.”

“It is he who followed m’sieur about the market today,” exclaimed Abdul. “I saw him again within the cafe—him and another; and the two went out into the inner court after talking with this girl here. It was they who attacked and fired upon us, as we came out of the cafe. Why do they wish to kill you, m’sieur?”

“I do not know,” replied Tarzan, and then, after a pause: “Unless—” But he did not finish, for the thought that had come to his mind, while it seemed the only reasonable solution of the mystery, appeared at the same time quite improbable. Presently the men in the street went away. The courtyard and the cafe were deserted. Cautiously Tarzan lowered himself to the sill of the girl’s window. The room was empty. He returned to the roof and let Abdul down, then he lowered the girl to the arms of the waiting Arab.

From the window Abdul dropped the short distance to the street below, while Tarzan took the girl in his arms and leaped down as he had done on so many other occasions in his own forest with a burden in his arms. A little cry of alarm was startled from the girl’s lips, but Tarzan landed in the street with but an imperceptible jar, and lowered her in safety to her feet.

She clung to him for a moment.

“How strong m’sieur is, and how active,” she cried. “EL ADREA, the black lion, himself is not more so.”

“I should like to meet this EL ADREA of yours,” he said. “I have heard much about him.”

“And you come to the DOUAR of my father you shall see him,” said the girl. “He lives in a spur of the mountains north of us, and comes down from his lair at night to rob my father’s DOUAR. With a single blow of his mighty paw he crushes the skull of a bull, and woe betide the belated wayfarer who meets EL ADREA abroad at night.”

Without further mishap they reached the hotel. The sleepy landlord objected strenuously to instituting a search for Kadour ben Saden until the following morning, but a piece of gold put a different aspect on the matter, so that a few moments later a servant had started to make the rounds of the lesser native hostelries where it might be expected that a desert sheik would find congenial associations. Tarzan had felt it necessary to find the girl’s father that night, for fear he might start on his homeward journey too early in the morning to be intercepted.

They had waited perhaps half an hour when the messenger returned with Kadour ben Saden. The old sheik entered the room with a questioning expression upon his proud face.

“Monsieur has done me the honor to—” he commenced, and then his eyes fell upon the girl. With outstretched arms he crossed the room to meet her. “My daughter!” he cried. “Allah is merciful!” and tears dimmed the martial eyes of the old warrior.

When the story of her abduction and her final rescue had been told to Kadour ben Saden he extended his hand to Tarzan.

“All that is Kadour ben Saden’s is thine, my friend, even to his life,” he said very simply, but Tarzan knew that those were no idle words.

It was decided that although three of them would have to ride after practically no sleep, it would be best to make an early start in the morning, and attempt to ride all the way to Bou Saada in one day. It would have been comparatively easy for the men, but for the girl it was sure to be a fatiguing journey.

She, however, was the most anxious to undertake it, for it seemed to her that she could not quickly enough reach the family and friends from whom she had been separated for two years.

It seemed to Tarzan that he had not closed his eyes before he was awakened, and in another hour the party was on its way south toward Bou Saada. For a few miles the road was good, and they made rapid progress, but suddenly it became only a waste of sand, into which the horses sank fetlock deep at nearly every step. In addition to Tarzan, Abdul, the sheik, and his daughter were four of the wild plainsmen of the sheik’s tribe who had accompanied him upon the trip to Sidi Aissa. Thus, seven guns strong, they entertained little fear of attack by day, and if all went well they should reach Bou Saada before nightfall.

A brisk wind enveloped them in the blowing sand of the desert, until Tarzan’s lips were parched and cracked. What little he could see of the surrounding country was far from alluring—a vast expanse of rough country, rolling in little, barren hillocks, and tufted here and there with clumps of dreary shrub. Far to the south rose the dim lines of the Saharan Atlas range. How different, thought Tarzan, from the gorgeous Africa of his boyhood!

Abdul, always on the alert, looked backward quite as often as he did ahead. At the top of each hillock that they mounted he would draw in his horse and, turning, scan the country to the rear with utmost care. At last his scrutiny was rewarded.

“Look!” he cried. “There are six horsemen behind us.”

“Your friends of last evening, no doubt, monsieur,” remarked Kadour ben Saden dryly to Tarzan.

“No doubt,” replied the ape-man. “I am sorry that my society should endanger the safety of your journey. At the next village I shall remain and question these gentlemen, while you ride on. There is no necessity for my being at Bou Saada tonight, and less still why you should not ride in peace.”

“If you stop we shall stop,” said Kadour ben Saden. “Until you are safe with your friends, or the enemy has left your trail, we shall remain with you. There is nothing more to say.”

Tarzan nodded his head. He was a man of few words, and possibly it was for this reason as much as any that Kadour ben Saden had taken to him, for if there be one thing that an Arab despises it is a talkative man.

All the balance of the day Abdul caught glimpses of the horsemen in their rear. They remained always at about the same distance. During the occasional halts for rest, and at the longer halt at noon, they approached no closer.

“They are waiting for darkness,” said Kadour ben Saden.

And darkness came before they reached Bou Saada. The last glimpse that Abdul had of the grim, white-robed figures that trailed them, just before dusk made it impossible to distinguish them, had made it apparent that they were rapidly closing up the distance that intervened between them and their intended quarry. He whispered this fact to Tarzan, for he did not wish to alarm the girl. The ape-man drew back beside him.

“You will ride ahead with the others, Abdul,” said Tarzan. “This is my quarrel. I shall wait at the next convenient spot, and interview these fellows.”

“Then Abdul shall wait at thy side,” replied the young Arab, nor would any threats or commands move him from his decision.

“Very well, then,” replied Tarzan. “Here is as good a place as we could wish. Here are rocks at the top of this hillock. We shall remain hidden here and give an account of ourselves to these gentlemen when they appear.”

They drew in their horses and dismounted. The others riding ahead were already out of sight