ADVENTURE books online

Reading books adventure Nowadays a big variety of genres are exist. In our electronic library you can choose any book that suits your mood, request and purpose. This website is full of free ebooks. Reading online is very popular and become mainstream. This website can provoke you to be smarter than anyone. You can read between work breaks, in public transport, in cafes over a cup of coffee and cheesecake.
No matter where, but it’s important to read books in our elibrary , without registration.



Today let's analyze the genre adventure. Genre adventure is a reference book for adults and children. But it serve for adults and children in different purposes. If a boy or girl presents himself as a brave and courageous hero, doing noble deeds, then an adult with pleasure can be a little distracted from their daily worries.


A great interest to the reader is the adventure of a historical nature. For example, question: «Who discovered America?»
Today there are quite interesting descriptions of the adventures of Portuguese sailors, who visited this continent 20 years before Columbus.




It should be noted the different quality of literary works created in the genre of adventure. There is an understandable interest of generations of people in the classic adventure. At the same time, new works, which are created by contemporary authors, make classic works in the adventure genre quite worthy competition.
The close attention of readers to the genre of adventure is explained by the very essence of man, which involves constant movement, striving for something new, struggle and achievement of success. Adventure genre is very excited
Heroes of adventure books are always strong and brave. And we, off course, want to be like them. Unfortunately, book life is very different from real life.But that doesn't stop us from loving books even more.

Read books online » Adventure » Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs (bill gates books recommendations .txt) 📖

Book online «Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs (bill gates books recommendations .txt) 📖». Author Edgar Rice Burroughs



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D’Arnot had thought, but one of those that commonly attack whites in the jungles of Africa, and either kill or leave them as suddenly as D’Arnot’s had left him.

Two days later, D’Arnot was tottering about the amphitheater, Tarzan’s strong arm about him to keep him from falling.

They sat beneath the shade of a great tree, and Tarzan found some smooth bark that they might converse.

D’Arnot wrote the first message:

 

What can I do to repay you for all that you have done for me?

 

And Tarzan, in reply:

 

Teach me to speak the language of men.

 

And so D’Arnot commenced at once, pointing out familiar objects and repeating their names in French, for he thought that it would be easier to teach this man his own language, since he understood it himself best of all.

It meant nothing to Tarzan, of course, for he could not tell one language from another, so when he pointed to the word man which he had printed upon a piece of bark he learned from D’Arnot that it was pronounced HOMME, and in the same way he was taught to pronounce ape, SINGE and tree, ARBRE.

He was a most eager student, and in two more days had mastered so much French that he could speak little sentences such as: “That is a tree,” “this is grass,” “I am hungry,” and the like, but D’Arnot found that it was difficult to teach him the French construction upon a foundation of English.

The Frenchman wrote little lessons for him in English and had Tarzan repeat them in French, but as a literal translation was usually very poor French Tarzan was often confused.

D’Arnot realized now that he had made a mistake, but it seemed too late to go back and do it all over again and force Tarzan to unlearn all that he had learned, especially as they were rapidly approaching a point where they would be able to converse.

On the third day after the fever broke Tarzan wrote a message asking D’Arnot if he felt strong enough to be carried back to the cabin. Tarzan was as anxious to go as D’Arnot, for he longed to see Jane again.

It had been hard for him to remain with the Frenchman all these days for that very reason, and that he had unselfishly done so spoke more glowingly of his nobility of character than even did his rescuing the French officer from Mbonga’s clutches.

D’Arnot, only too willing to attempt the journey, wrote:

 

But you cannot carry me all the distance through this tangled forest.

 

Tarzan laughed.

“MAIS OUI,” he said, and D’Arnot laughed aloud to hear the phrase that he used so often glide from Tarzan’s tongue.

So they set out, D’Arnot marveling as had Clayton and Jane at the wondrous strength and agility of the apeman.

Midafternoon brought them to the clearing, and as Tarzan dropped to earth from the branches of the last tree his heart leaped and bounded against his ribs in anticipation of seeing Jane so soon again.

No one was in sight outside the cabin, and D’Arnot was perplexed to note that neither the cruiser nor the Arrow was at anchor in the bay.

An atmosphere of loneliness pervaded the spot, which caught suddenly at both men as they strode toward the cabin.

Neither spoke, yet both knew before they opened the closed door what they would find beyond.

Tarzan lifted the latch and pushed the great door in upon its wooden hinges. It was as they had feared. The cabin was deserted.

The men turned and looked at one another. D’Arnot knew that his people thought him dead; but Tarzan thought only of the woman who had kissed him in love and now had fled from him while he was serving one of her people.

A great bitterness rose in his heart. He would go away, far into the jungle and join his tribe. Never would he see one of his own kind again, nor could he bear the thought of returning to the cabin. He would leave that forever behind him with the great hopes he had nursed there of finding his own race and becoming a man among men.

And the Frenchman? D’Arnot? What of him? He could get along as Tarzan had. Tarzan did not want to see him more. He wanted to get away from everything that might remind him of Jane.

As Tarzan stood upon the threshold brooding, D’Arnot had entered the cabin. Many comforts he saw that had been left behind. He recognized numerous articles from the cruiser —a camp oven, some kitchen utensils, a rifle and many rounds of ammunition, canned foods, blankets, two chairs and a cot—and several books and periodicals, mostly American.

“They must intend returning,” thought D’Arnot.

He walked over to the table that John Clayton had built so many years before to serve as a desk, and on it he saw two notes addressed to Tarzan of the Apes.

One was in a strong masculine hand and was unsealed. The other, in a woman’s hand, was sealed.

“Here are two messages for you, Tarzan of the Apes,” cried D’Arnot, turning toward the door; but his companion was not there.

D’Arnot walked to the door and looked out. Tarzan was nowhere in sight. He called aloud but there was no response.

“MON DIEU!” exclaimed D’Arnot, “he has left me. I feel it. He has gone back into his jungle and left me here alone.”

And then he remembered the look on Tarzan’s face when they had discovered that the cabin was empty—such a look as the hunter sees in the eyes of the wounded deer he has wantonly brought down.

The man had been hard hit—D’Arnot realized it now— but why? He could not understand.

The Frenchman looked about him. The loneliness and the horror of the place commenced to get on his nerves—already weakened by the ordeal of suffering and sickness he had passed through.

To be left here alone beside this awful jungle—never to hear a human voice or see a human face—in constant dread of savage beasts and more terribly savage men—a prey to solitude and hopelessness. It was awful.

And far to the east Tarzan of the Apes was speeding through the middle terrace back to his tribe. Never had he traveled with such reckless speed. He felt that he was running away from himself—that by hurtling through the forest like a frightened squirrel he was escaping from his own thoughts. But no matter how fast he went he found them always with him.

He passed above the sinuous body of Sabor, the lioness, going in the opposite direction—toward the cabin, thought Tarzan.

What could D’Arnot do against Sabor—or if Bolgani, the gorilla, should come upon him—or Numa, the lion, or cruel Sheeta?

Tarzan paused in his flight.

“What are you, Tarzan?” he asked aloud. “An ape or a man?”

“If you are an ape you will do as the apes would do— leave one of your kind to die in the jungle if it suited your whim to go elsewhere.

“If you are a man, you will return to protect your kind. You will not run away from one of your own people, because one of them has run away from you.”

 

D’Arnot closed the cabin door. He was very nervous. Even brave men, and D’Arnot was a brave man, are sometimes frightened by solitude.

He loaded one of the rifles and placed it within easy reach. Then he went to the desk and took up the unsealed letter addressed to Tarzan.

Possibly it contained word that his people had but left the beach temporarily. He felt that it would be no breach of ethics to read this letter, so he took the enclosure from the envelope and read:

TO TARZAN OF THE APES:

 

We thank you for the use of your cabin, and are sorry that you did not permit us the pleasure of seeing and thanking you in person.

We have harmed nothing, but have left many things for you which may add to your comfort and safety here in your lonely home.

If you know the strange white man who saved our lives so many times, and brought us food, and if you can converse with him, thank him, also, for his kindness.

We sail within the hour, never to return; but we wish you and that other jungle friend to know that we shall always thank you for what you did for strangers on your shore, and that we should have done infinitely more to reward you both had you given us the opportunity. Very respectfully, WM. CECIL CLAYTON.

 

“`Never to return,’” muttered D’Arnot, and threw himself face downward upon the cot.

An hour later he started up listening. Something was at the door trying to enter.

D’Arnot reached for the loaded rifle and placed it to his shoulder.

Dusk was falling, and the interior of the cabin was very dark; but the man could see the latch moving from its place.

He felt his hair rising upon his scalp.

Gently the door opened until a thin crack showed something standing just beyond.

D’Arnot sighted along the blue barrel at the crack of the door—and then he pulled the trigger.

Chapter 24 Lost Treasure

When the expedition returned, following their fruitless endeavor to succor D’Arnot, Captain Dufranne was anxious to steam away as quickly as possible, and all save Jane had acquiesced.

“No,” she said, determinedly, “I shall not go, nor should you, for there are two friends in that jungle who will come out of it some day expecting to find us awaiting them.

“Your officer, Captain Dufranne, is one of them, and the forest man who has saved the lives of every member of my father’s party is the other.

“He left me at the edge of the jungle two days ago to hasten to the aid of my father and Mr. Clayton, as he thought, and he has stayed to rescue Lieutenant D’Arnot; of that you may be sure.

“Had he been too late to be of service to the lieutenant he would have been back before now—the fact that he is not back is sufficient proof to me that he is delayed because Lieutenant D’Arnot is wounded, or he has had to follow his captors further than the village which your sailors attacked.”

“But poor D’Arnot’s uniform and all his belongings were found in that village, Miss Porter,” argued the captain, “and the natives showed great excitement when questioned as to the white man’s fate.”

“Yes, Captain, but they did not admit that he was dead and as for his clothes and accouterments being in their possession—why more civilized peoples than these poor savage negroes strip their prisoners of every article of value whether they intend killing them or not.

“Even the soldiers of my own dear South looted not only the living but the dead. It is strong circumstantial evidence, I will admit, but it is not positive proof.”

“Possibly your forest man, himself was captured or killed by the savages,” suggested Captain Dufranne.

The girl laughed.

“You do not know him,” she replied, a little thrill of pride setting her nerves a-tingle at the thought that she spoke of her own.

“I admit that he would be worth waiting for, this superman of yours,” laughed the captain. “I most certainly should like to see him.”

“Then wait for him, my dear captain,” urged the girl, “for I intend doing so.”

The Frenchman would have been a very much surprised man could he have interpreted the true meaning of the girl’s words.

They had been walking from the beach toward the cabin as they talked, and now they joined a little group sitting on camp stools in the shade of a great tree beside the cabin.

Professor Porter

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