Jungle Tales of Tarzan by Edgar Rice Burroughs (novel24 txt) 📖

tribe, and of mysterious things with which he communed in the strange lair by the sea. They had never understood his books, and after he had shown them to one or two of the tribe and discovered that even the pictures carried no impression to their brains, he had desisted.

 

“Tarzan is not an ape,” said Gunto. “He will bring Numa to eat us, as he is bringing him to eat Goro.

We should kill him.”

 

Immediately Taug bristled. Kill Tarzan! “First you will kill Taug,” he said, and lumbered away to search for food.

 

But others joined the plotters. They thought of many things which Tarzan had done—things which apes did not do and could not understand. Again Gunto voiced the opinion that the Tarmangani, the white ape, should be slain, and the others, filled with terror about the stories they had heard, and thinking Tarzan was planning to slay Goro, greeted the proposal with growls of accord.

 

Among them was Teeka, listening with all her ears; but her voice was not raised in furtherance of the plan.

Instead she bristled, showing her fangs, and afterward she went away in search of Tarzan; but she could not find him, as he was roaming far afield in search of meat.

She found Taug, though, and told him what the others were planning, and the great bull stamped upon the ground and roared. His bloodshot eyes blazed with wrath, his upper lip curled up to expose his fighting fangs, and the hair upon his spine stood erect, and then a rodent scurried across the open and Taug sprang to seize it.

In an instant he seemed to have forgotten his rage against the enemies of his friend; but such is the mind of an ape.

 

Several miles away Tarzan of the Apes lolled upon the broad head of Tantor, the elephant. He scratched beneath the great ears with the point of a sharp stick, and he talked to the huge pachyderm of everything which filled his black-thatched head. Little, or nothing, of what he said did Tantor understand; but Tantor is a good listener.

Swaying from side to side he stood there enjoying the companionship of his friend, the friend he loved, and absorbing the delicious sensations of the scratching.

 

Numa, the lion, caught the scent of man, and warily stalked it until he came within sight of his prey upon the head of the mighty tusker; then he turned, growling and muttering, away in search of more propitious hunting grounds.

 

The elephant caught the scent of the lion, borne to him by an eddying breeze, and lifting his trunk trumpeted loudly.

Tarzan stretched back luxuriously, lying supine at full length along the rough hide. Flies swarmed about his face; but with a leafy branch torn from a tree he lazily brushed them away.

 

“Tantor,” he said, “it is good to be alive. It is good to lie in the cool shadows. It is good to look upon the green trees and the bright colors of the flowers—upon everything which Bulamutumumo has put here for us.

He is very good to us, Tantor; He has given you tender leaves and bark, and rich grasses to eat; to me He has given Bara and Horta and Pisah, the fruits and the nuts and the roots.

He provides for each the food that each likes best.

All that He asks is that we be strong enough or cunning enough to go forth and take it. Yes, Tantor, it is good to live.

I should hate to die.”

 

Tantor made a little sound in his throat and curled his trunk upward that he might caress the ape-man’s cheek with the finger at its tip.

 

“Tantor,” said Tarzan presently, “turn and feed in the direction of the tribe of Kerchak, the great ape, that Tarzan may ride home upon your head without walking.”

 

The tusker turned and moved slowly off along a broad, tree-arched trail, pausing occasionally to pluck a tender branch, or strip the edible bark from an adjacent tree.

Tarzan sprawled face downward upon the beast’s head and back, his legs hanging on either side, his head supported by his open palms, his elbows resting on the broad cranium.

And thus they made their leisurely way toward the gathering place of the tribe.

 

Just before they arrived at the clearing from the north there reached it from the south another figure—that of a well-knit black warrior, who stepped cautiously through the jungle, every sense upon the alert against the many dangers which might lurk anywhere along the way.

Yet he passed beneath the southernmost sentry that was posted in a great tree commanding the trail from the south.

The ape permitted the Gomangani to pass unmolested, for he saw that he was alone; but the moment that the warrior had entered the clearing a loud “Kreegah!” rang out from behind him, immediately followed by a chorus of replies from different directions, as the great bulls crashed through the trees in answer to the summons of their fellow.

 

The black man halted at the first cry and looked about him.

He could see nothing, but he knew the voice of the hairy tree men whom he and his kind feared, not alone because of the strength and ferocity of the savage beings, but as well through a superstitious terror engendered by the manlike appearance of the apes.

 

But Bulabantu was no coward. He heard the apes all about him; he knew that escape was probably impossible, so he stood his ground, his spear ready in his hand and a war cry trembling on his lips. He would sell his life dearly, would Bulabantu, under-chief of the village of Mbonga, the chief.

 

Tarzan and Tantor were but a short distance away when the first cry of the sentry rang out through the quiet jungle.

Like a flash the ape-man leaped from the elephant’s back to a near-by tree and was swinging rapidly in the direction of the clearing before the echoes of the first “Kreegah” had died away. When he arrived he saw a dozen bulls circling a single Gomangani.

With a blood-curdling scream Tarzan sprang to the attack.

He hated the blacks even more than did the apes, and here was an opportunity for a kill in the open.

What had the Gomangani done? Had he slain one of the tribe?

 

Tarzan asked the nearest ape. No, the Gomangani had harmed none. Gozan, being on watch, had seen him coming through the forest and had warned the tribe—that was all.

The ape-man pushed through the circle of bulls, none of which as yet had worked himself into sufficient frenzy for a charge, and came where he had a full and close view of the black. He recognized the man instantly.

Only the night before he had seen him facing the eyes in the dark, while his fellows groveled in the dirt at his feet, too terrified even to defend themselves.

Here was a brave man, and Tarzan had deep admiration for bravery. Even his hatred of the blacks was not so strong a passion as his love of courage. He would have joyed in battling with a black warrior at almost any time; but this one he did not wish to kill—he felt, vaguely, that the man had earned his life by his brave defense of it on the preceding night, nor did he fancy the odds that were pitted against the lone warrior.

 

He turned to the apes. “Go back to your feeding,”

he said, “and let this Gomangani go his way in peace.

He has not harmed us, and last night I saw him fighting Numa and Sabor with fire, alone in the jungle. He is brave.

Why should we kill one who is brave and who has not attacked us? Let him go.”

 

The apes growled. They were displeased. “Kill the Gomangani!”

cried one.

 

“Yes.” roared another, “kill the Gomangani and the Tarmangani as well.”

 

“Kill the white ape!” screamed Gozan, “he is no ape at all; but a Gomangani with his skin off.”

 

“Kill Tarzan!” bellowed Gunto. “Kill! Kill! Kill!”

 

The bulls were now indeed working themselves into the frenzy of slaughter; but against Tarzan rather than the black man.

A shaggy form charged through them, hurling those it came in contact with to one side as a strong man might scatter children. It was Taug—great, savage Taug.

 

“Who says ‘kill Tarzan’?” he demanded. “Who kills Tarzan must kill Taug, too. Who can kill Taug? Taug will tear your insides from you and feed them to Dango.”

 

“We can kill you all,” replied Gunto. “There are many of us and few of you,” and he was right. Tarzan knew that he was right. Taug knew it; but neither would admit such a possibility. It is not the way of bull apes.

 

“I am Tarzan,” cried the ape-man. “I am Tarzan.

Mighty hunter; mighty fighter. In all the jungle none so great as Tarzan.”

 

Then, one by one, the opposing bulls recounted their virtues and their prowess. And all the time the combatants came closer and closer to one another. Thus do the bulls work themselves to the proper pitch before engaging in battle.

 

Gunto came, stiff-legged, close to Tarzan and sniffed at him, with bared fangs. Tarzan rumbled forth a low, menacing growl.

They might repeat these tactics a dozen times; but sooner or later one bull would close with another and then the whole hideous pack would be tearing and rending at their prey.

 

Bulabantu, the black man, had stood wide-eyed in wonder from the moment he had seen Tarzan approaching through the apes.

He had heard much of this devil-god who ran with the hairy tree people; but never before had he seen him in full daylight. He knew him well enough from the description of those who had seen him and from the glimpses he had had of the marauder upon several occasions when the ape-man had entered the village of Mbonga, the chief, by night, in the perpetration of one of his numerous ghastly jokes.

 

Bulabantu could not, of course, understand anything which passed between Tarzan and the apes; but he saw that the ape-man and one of the larger bulls were in argument with the others. He saw that these two were standing with their back toward him and between him and the balance of the tribe, and he guessed, though it seemed improbable, that they might be defending him.

He knew that Tarzan had once spared the life of Mbonga, the chief, and that he had succored Tibo, and Tibo’s mother, Momaya. So it was not impossible that he would help Bulabantu; but how he could accomplish it Bulabantu could not guess; nor as a matter of fact could Tarzan, for the odds against him were too great.

 

Gunto and the others were slowly forcing Tarzan and Taug back toward Bulabantu. The ape-man thought of his words with Tantor just a short time before: “Yes, Tantor, it is good to live. I should hate to die.” And now he knew that he was about to die, for the temper of the great bulls was mounting rapidly against him.

Always had many of them hated him, and all were suspicious of him. They knew he was different. Tarzan knew it too; but he was glad that he was—he was a MAN; that he had learned from his picture-books, and he was very proud of the distinction. Presently, though, he would be a dead man.

 

Gunto was preparing to charge. Tarzan knew the signs.

He knew that the balance of the bulls would charge with Gunto. Then it would soon be over. Something moved among the verdure at the opposite side of the clearing.

Tarzan