The Return of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs (i love reading txt) đ
- Author: Edgar Rice Burroughs
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Presently Clayton awoke. It was several minutes before he could gather his senses sufficiently to realize where he was, or recall the disaster of the previous night. Finally his bewildered eyes fell upon the girl.
âJane!â he cried. âThank God that we are together!â
âLook,â said the girl dully, indicating the horizon with an apathetic gesture. âWe are all alone.â
Clayton scanned the water in every direction.
âWhere can they be?â he cried. âThey cannot have gone down, for there has been no sea, and they were afloat after the yacht sankâI saw them all.â
He awoke the other members of the party, and explained their plight.
âIt is just as well that the boats are scattered, sir,â said one of the sailors. âThey are all provisioned, so that they do not need each other on that score, and should a storm blow up they could be of no service to one another even if they were together, but scattered about the ocean there is a much better chance that one at least will be picked up, and then a search will be at once started for the others. Were we together there would be but one chance of rescue, where now there may be four.â
They saw the wisdom of his philosophy, and were cheered by it, but their joy was short-lived, for when it was decided that they should row steadily toward the east and the continent, it was discovered that the sailors who had been at the only two oars with which the boat had been provided had fallen asleep at their work, and allowed both to slip into the sea, nor were they in sight anywhere upon the water.
During the angry words and recriminations which followed the sailors nearly came to blows, but Clayton succeeded in quieting them; though a moment later Monsieur Thuran almost precipitated another row by making a nasty remark about the stupidity of all Englishmen, and especially English sailors.
âCome, come, mates,â spoke up one of the men, Tompkins, who had taken no part in the altercation, âshootinâ off our bloominâ mugs wonât get us nothinâ. As Spider âere said afore, weâll all bloody well be picked up, anyway, sez âe, so wotâs the use oâ squabblinâ? Letâs eat, sez I.â
âThatâs not a bad idea,â said Monsieur Thuran, and then, turning to the third sailor, Wilson, he said: âPass one of those tins aft, my good man.â
âFetch it yerself,â retorted Wilson sullenly. âI ainât a-takinâ no orders from noâfurrinerâyou ainât captain oâ this ship yet.â
The result was that Clayton himself had to get the tin, and then another angry altercation ensued when one of the sailors accused Clayton and Monsieur Thuran of conspiring to control the provisions so that they could have the lionâs share.
âSome one should take command of this boat,â spoke up Jane Porter, thoroughly disgusted with the disgraceful wrangling that had marked the very opening of a forced companionship that might last for many days. âIt is terrible enough to be alone in a frail boat on the Atlantic, without having the added misery and danger of constant bickering and brawling among the members of our party. You men should elect a leader, and then abide by his decisions in all matters. There is greater need for strict discipline here than there is upon a well-ordered ship.â
She had hoped before she voiced her sentiments that it would not be necessary for her to enter into the transaction at all, for she believed that Clayton was amply able to cope with every emergency, but she had to admit that so far at least he had shown no greater promise of successfully handling the situation than any of the others, though he had at least refrained from adding in any way to the unpleasantness, even going so far as to give up the tin to the sailors when they objected to its being opened by him.
The girlâs words temporarily quieted the men, and finally it was decided that the two kegs of water and the four tins of food should be divided into two parts, one-half going forward to the three sailors to do with as they saw best, and the balance aft to the three passengers.
Thus was the little company divided into two camps, and when the provisions had been apportioned each immediately set to work to open and distribute food and water. The sailors were the first to get one of the tins of âfoodâ open, and their curses of rage and disappointment caused Clayton to ask what the trouble might be.
âTrouble!â shrieked Spider. âTrouble! Itâs worse than troubleâitâs death! Thisâtin is full of coal oil!â
Hastily now Clayton and Monsieur Thuran tore open one of theirs, only to learn the hideous truth that it also contained, not food, but coal oil. One after another the four tins on board were opened. And as the contents of each became known howls of anger announced the grim truthâthere was not an ounce of food upon the boat.
âWell, thank Gawd it wasnât the water,â cried Thompkins. âItâs easier to get along without food than it is without water. We can eat our shoes if worse comes to worst, but we couldnât drink âem.â
As he spoke Wilson had been boring a hole in one of the water kegs, and as Spider held a tin cup he tilted the keg to pour a draft of the precious fluid. A thin stream of blackish, dry particles filtered slowly through the tiny aperture into the bottom of the cup. With a groan Wilson dropped the keg, and sat staring at the dry stuff in the cup, speechless with horror.
âThe kegs are filled with gunpowder,â said Spider, in a low tone, turning to those aft. And so it proved when the last had been opened.
âCoal oil and gunpowder!â cried Monsieur Thuran. âSAPRISTI! What a diet for shipwrecked mariners!â
With the full knowledge that there was neither food nor water on board, the pangs of hunger and thirst became immediately aggravated, and so on the first day of their tragic adventure real suffering commenced in grim earnest, and the full horrors of shipwreck were upon them.
As the days passed conditions became horrible. Aching eyes scanned the horizon day and night until the weak and weary watchers would sink exhausted to the bottom of the boat, and there wrest in dream-disturbed slumber a momentâs respite from the horrors of the waking reality.
The sailors, goaded by the remorseless pangs of hunger, had eaten their leather belts, their shoes, the sweatbands from their caps, although both Clayton and Monsieur Thuran had done their best to convince them that these would only add to the suffering they were enduring.
Weak and hopeless, the entire party lay beneath the pitiless tropic sun, with parched lips and swollen tongues, waiting for the death they were beginning to crave. The intense suffering of the first few days had become deadened for the three passengers who had eaten nothing, but the agony of the sailors was pitiful, as their weak and impoverished stomachs attempted to cope with the bits of leather with which they had filled them. Tompkins was the first to succumb. Just a week from the day the LADY ALICE went down the sailor died horribly in frightful convulsions.
For hours his contorted and hideous features lay grinning back at those in the stern of the little boat, until Jane Porter could endure the sight no longer. âCan you not drop his body overboard, William?â she asked.
Clayton rose and staggered toward the corpse. The two remaining sailors eyed him with a strange, baleful light in their sunken orbs. Futilely the Englishman tried to lift the corpse over the side of the boat, but his strength was not equal to the task.
âLend me a hand here, please,â he said to Wilson, who lay nearest him.
âWot do you want to throw âim over for?â questioned the sailor, in a querulous voice.
âWeâve got to before weâre too weak to do it,â replied Clayton. âHeâd be awful by tomorrow, after a day under that broiling sun.â
âBetter leave well enough alone,â grumbled Wilson. âWe may need him before tomorrow.â
Slowly the meaning of the manâs words percolated into Claytonâs understanding. At last he realized the fellowâs reason for objecting to the disposal of the dead man.
âGod!â whispered Clayton, in a horrified tone. âYou donât meanââ
âWây not?â growled Wilson. âAinât we gotta live? Heâs dead,â he added, jerking his thumb in the direction of the corpse. âHe wonât care.â
âCome here, Thuran,â said Clayton, turning toward the Russian. âWeâll have something worse than death aboard us if we donât get rid of this body before dark.â
Wilson staggered up menacingly to prevent the contemplated act, but when his comrade, Spider, took sides with Clayton and Monsieur Thuran he gave up, and sat eying the corpse hungrily as the three men, by combining their efforts, succeeded in rolling it overboard.
All the balance of the day Wilson sat glaring at Clayton, in his eyes the gleam of insanity. Toward evening, as the sun was sinking into the sea, he commenced to chuckle and mumble to himself, but his eyes never left Clayton.
After it became quite dark Clayton could still feel those terrible eyes upon him. He dared not sleep, and yet so exhausted was he that it was a constant fight to retain consciousness. After what seemed an eternity of suffering his head dropped upon a thwart, and he slept. How long he was unconscious he did not knowâhe was awakened by a shuffling noise quite close to him. The moon had risen, and as he opened his startled eyes he saw Wilson creeping stealthily toward him, his mouth open and his swollen tongue hanging out.
The slight noise had awakened Jane Porter at the same time, and as she saw the hideous tableau she gave a shrill cry of alarm, and at the same instant the sailor lurched forward and fell upon Clayton. Like a wild beast his teeth sought the throat of his intended prey, but Clayton, weak though he was, still found sufficient strength to hold the maniacâs mouth from him.
At Jane Porterâs scream Monsieur Thuran and Spider awoke. On seeing the cause of her alarm, both men crawled to Claytonâs rescue, and between the three of them were able to subdue Wilson and hurl him to the bottom of the boat. For a few minutes he lay there chattering and laughing, and then, with an awful scream, and before any of his companions could prevent, he staggered to his feet and leaped overboard.
The reaction from the terrific strain of excitement left the weak survivors trembling and prostrated. Spider broke down and wept; Jane Porter prayed; Clayton swore softly to himself; Monsieur Thuran sat with his head in his hands, thinking. The result of his cogitation developed the following morning in a proposition he made to Spider and Clayton.
âGentlemen,â said Monsieur Thuran, âyou see the fate that awaits us all unless we are picked up within a day or two. That there is little hope of that is evidenced by the fact that during all the days we have drifted we have seen no sail, nor the faintest smudge of smoke upon the horizon.
âThere might be a chance if we had food, but without food there is none. There remains for us, then, but one of two alternatives, and we must choose at once. Either we must all die together within a few days, or one must be sacrificed that the others may live. Do you quite clearly grasp my meaning?â
Jane Porter, who had overheard, was horrified. If the proposition had come from the poor, ignorant sailor, she might possibly have not been
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