Tarzan and the Golden Lion by Edgar Rice Burroughs (most important books to read TXT) 📖

he should search the world over to obtain—the dream-woman for whom he had always searched—the dream-woman he had never found, the fit companion for such as Esteban Miranda imagined himself to be. Presently through the dark lashes that veiled his narrowed lids the Spaniard seemed to see before him in the flickering light of his campfire a vague materialization of the figure of his dream—a woman’s figure, clothed in flowing diaphanous white which appeared to hover just above him at the outer rim of his firelight at the summit of the ancient river bank.

It was strange how the vision persisted. Esteban closed his eyes tightly, and then opened them ever so little, and there, as it had been before he closed them, the vision remained. And then he opened his eyes wide, and still the figure of the woman in white floated above him.

Esteban Miranda went suddenly pale. “Mother of God!” he cried. “It is Flora. She is dead and has come back to haunt me.”

With staring eyes he slowly rose to his feet to confront the apparition, when in soft and gentle tones it spoke.

“Heart of my heart,” it cried, “it is really you!”

Instantly Esteban realized that this was no disembodied spirit, nor was it Flora—but who was it? Who was this vision of beauty, alone in the savage African wilderness?

Very slowly now it was descending the embankment and coming toward him. Esteban returned the diamonds to the pouch and replaced it inside his loin cloth.

With outstretched arms the girl came toward him. “My love, my love,” she cried, “do not tell me that you do not know me.” She was close enough now for the Spaniard to see her rapidly rising and falling breasts and her lips trembling with love and passion. A sudden wave of hot desire swept over him, so with outstretched arms he sprang forward to meet her and crush her to his breast.

Tarzan, following the spoor of the man and the woman, moved in a leisurely manner along the jungle trail, for he realized that no haste was essential to overtake these two. Nor was he at all surprised when he came suddenly upon the huddled figure of a woman, lying in the center of the pathway. He knelt beside her and laid a hand upon her shoulder, eliciting a startled scream.

“God!” she cried, “this is the end!”

“You are in no danger,” said the ape-man. “I will not harm you.”

She turned her eyes and looked up at him. At first she thought he was Esteban. “You have come back to save me, Esteban?” she asked.

“Esteban!” he exclaimed. “I am not Esteban. That is not my name.” And then she recognized him.

“Lord Greystoke!” she cried. “It is really you?”

“Yes,” he said, “and who are you?”

“I am Flora Hawkes. I was Lady Greystoke’s maid.”

“I remember you,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I am afraid to tell you,” she said. “I am afraid of your anger.”

“Tell me,” he commanded. “You should know, Flora, that I do not harm women.”

“We came to get gold from the vaults of Opar,” she said. “But that you know.”

“I know nothing of it,” he replied. “Do you mean that you were with those Europeans who drugged me and left me in their camp?”

“Yes,” she said, “we got the gold, but you came with your Waziri and took it from us.”

“I came with no Waziri and took nothing from you,” said Tarzan. “I do not understand you.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, for she knew that Tarzan of the Apes did not lie.

“We became separated,” she said, “after our men turned against us. Esteban stole me from the others, and then, after a while Kraski found us. He was the Russian. He came with a bagful of diamonds and then Esteban killed him and took the diamonds.”

It was now Tarzan’s turn to experience surprise.

“And Esteban is the man who is with you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “but he has deserted me. I could not walk farther on my sore feet. He has gone and left me here to die and he has taken the diamonds with him.”

“We shall find him,” said the ape-man. “Come.”

“But I cannot walk,” said the girl.

“That is a small matter,” he said, and stooping lifted her to his shoulder.

Easily the ape-man bore the exhausted girl along the trail. “It is not far to water,” he said, “and water is what you need. It will help to revive you and give you strength, and perhaps I shall be able to find food for you soon.”

“Why are you so good to me?” asked the girl.

“You are a woman. I could not leave you alone in the jungle to die, no matter what you may have done,” replied the ape-man. And Flora Hawkes could only sob a broken plea for forgiveness for the wrong she had done him.

It grew quite dark, but still they moved along the silent trail until presently Tarzan caught in the distance the reflection of firelight.

“I think we shall soon find your friend,” he whispered. “Make no noise.”

A moment later his keen ears caught the sound of voices. He halted and lowered the girl to her feet.

“If you cannot follow,” he said, “wait here. I do not wish him to escape. I will return for you. If you can follow on slowly, do so.” And then he left her and made his way cautiously forward toward the light and the voices. He heard Flora Hawkes moving directly behind him. It was evident that she could not bear the thought of being left alone again in the dark jungle. Almost simultaneously Tarzan heard a low whine a few paces to his right. “Jad-bal-ja,” he whispered in a low voice, “heel,” and the great black-maned lion crept close to him, and Flora Hawkes, stifling a scream, rushed to his side and grasped his arms.

“Silence,” he whispered; “Jad-bal-ja will not harm you.”

An instant later the three came to the edge of the ancient river bank, and through the tall grasses growing there looked down upon the little camp beneath.

Tarzan, to his consternation, saw a counterpart of himself standing before a little fire, while slowly approaching the man, with outstretched arms, was a woman, draped in flowing white. He heard her words; soft words of love and endearment, and at the sound of the voice and the scent spoor that a vagrant wind carried suddenly to his nostrils, a strange complex of emotion overwhelmed him—happiness, despair, rage, love, and hate.

He saw the man at the fire step forward with open arms to take the woman to his breast, and then Tarzan separated the grasses and stepped to the very edge of the embankment, his voice shattering the jungle with a single word.

“Jane!” he cried, and instantly the man and woman turned and looked up at him, where his figure was dimly revealed in the light of the campfire. At sight of him the man wheeled and raced for the jungle on the opposite side of the river, and then Tarzan leaped to the bottom of the wash below and ran toward the woman.

“Jane,” he cried, “it is you, it is you!”

The woman showed her bewilderment. She looked first at the retreating figure of the man she had been about to embrace and then turned her eyes toward Tarzan. She drew her fingers across her brow and looked back toward Esteban, but Esteban was no longer in sight. Then she took a faltering step toward the ape-man.

“My God,” she cried, “what does it mean? Who are you, and if you are Tarzan who was he?”

“I am Tarzan, Jane,” said the ape-man.

She looked back and saw Flora Hawkes approaching. “Yes,” she said, “you are Tarzan. I saw you when you ran off into the jungle with Flora Hawkes. I cannot understand, John. I could not believe that you, even had you suffered an accident to your head, could have done such a thing.”

“I, run off into the jungle with Flora Hawkes?” he asked, in unfeigned surprise.

“I saw you,” said Jane.

The ape-man turned toward Flora. “I do not understand it,” he said.

“It was Esteban who ran off into the jungle with me, Lady Greystoke,” said the girl. “It was Esteban who was about to deceive you again. This is indeed Lord Greystoke. The other was an impostor, who only just deserted me and left me to die in the jungle. Had not Lord Greystoke come when he did I should be dead by now.”

Lady Greystoke took a faltering step toward her husband. “Ah, John,” she said, “I knew it could not have been you. My heart told me, but my eyes deceived me. Quick,” she cried, “that impostor must be captured. Hurry, John, before he escapes.”

“Let him go,” said the ape-man. “As much as I want him, as much as I want that which he has stolen from me, I will not leave you alone again in the jungle, Jane, even to catch him.”

“But Jad-bal-ja,” she cried. “What of him?”

“Ah,” cried the ape-man, “I had forgotten,” and turning to the lion he pointed toward the direction that the Spaniard had escaped. “Fetch him, Jad-bal-ja,” he cried; and, with a bound, the tawny beast was off upon the spoor of his quarry.

“He will kill him?” asked Flora Hawkes, shuddering. And yet at heart she was glad of the just fate that was overtaking the Spaniard.

“No, he will not kill him,” said Tarzan of the Apes. “He may maul him a bit, but he will bring him back alive if it is possible.” And then, as though the fate of the fugitive was already forgotten, he turned toward his mate.

“Jane,” he said, “Usula told me that you were dead. He said that they found your burned body in the Arab village and that they buried it there. How is it, then, that you are here alive and unharmed? I have been searching the jungles for Luvini to avenge your death. Perhaps it is well that I did not find him.”

“You would never have found him,” replied Jane Clayton, “but I cannot understand why Usula should have told you that he had found my body and buried it.”

“Some prisoners that he took,” replied Tarzan, “told him that Luvini had taken you bound hand and foot into one of the Arab huts near the village gateway, and that there he had further secured you to a stake driven into the floor of the hut. After the village had been destroyed by fire Usula and the other Waziri returned to search for you with some of the prisoners they had taken who pointed out the location of the hut, where the charred remains of a human body were found beside a burned stake to which it had apparently been tied.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the girl, “I see. Luvini did bind me hand and foot and tie me to the stake, but later he came back into the hut and removed the bonds. He attempted to attack me—how long we fought I do not know, but so engrossed were we in our struggle that neither one of us was aware of the burning of the village about us. As I persistently fought him off I caught a glimpse of a knife in his belt, and then I let him seize me and as his arms encircled me I grasped the knife and, drawing it from its sheath, plunged it into his back, below his left shoulder—that was the end. Luvini sank lifeless to the floor of the hut. Almost simultaneously the rear and roof of the structure burst into flames.

“I was almost naked, for he had torn nearly all my