Chapter X. The Fear-Phantom

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

　　From a lofty perch Tarzan viewed the village of thatchedhuts across the intervening plantation.

　　He saw that at one point the forest touched the village, andto this spot he made his way, lured by a fever of curiosityto behold animals of his own kind, and to learn more oftheir ways and view the strange lairs in which they lived.

　　His savage life among the fierce wild brutes of the jungleleft no opening for any thought that these could be aught elsethan enemies. Similarity of form led him into no erroneousconception of the welcome that would be accorded himshould he be discovered by these, the first of his own kind hehad ever seen.

　　Tarzan of the Apes was no sentimentalist. He knew nothingof the brotherhood of man. All things outside his owntribe were his deadly enemies, with the few exceptions ofwhich Tantor, the elephant, was a marked example.

　　And he realized all this without malice or hatred. To killwas the law of the wild world he knew. Few were his primitivepleasures, but the greatest of these was to hunt and kill,and so he accorded to others the right to cherish the samedesires as he, even though he himself might be the object oftheir hunt.

　　His strange life had left him neither morose nor bloodthirsty.That he joyed in killing, and that he killed with a joyouslaugh upon his handsome lips betokened no innate cruelty.He killed for food most often, but, being a man, he sometimeskilled for pleasure, a thing which no other animal does;for it has remained for man alone among all creatures to killsenselessly and wantonly for the mere pleasure of inflictingsuffering and death.

　　And when he killed for revenge, or in self-defense, he didthat also without hysteria, for it was a very businesslikeproceeding which admitted of no levity.

　　So it was that now, as he cautiously approached the village ofMbonga, he was quite prepared either to kill or be killed shouldhe be discovered. He proceeded with unwonted stealth, for Kulongahad taught him great respect for the little sharp splinters ofwood which dealt death so swiftly and unerringly.

　　At length he came to a great tree, heavy laden with thickfoliage and loaded with pendant loops of giant creepers.From this almost impenetrable bower above the village hecrouched, looking down upon the scene below him, wonderingover every feature of this new, strange life.

　　There were naked children running and playing in the villagestreet. There were women grinding dried plantain incrude stone mortars, while others were fashioning cakes fromthe powdered flour. Out in the fields he could see still otherwomen hoeing, weeding, or gathering.

　　All wore strange protruding girdles of dried grass abouttheir hips and many were loaded with brass and copperanklets, armlets and bracelets. Around many a dusky neck hungcuriously coiled strands of wire, while several were furtherornamented by huge nose rings.

　　Tarzan of the Apes looked with growing wonder at thesestrange creatures. Dozing in the shade he saw several men,while at the extreme outskirts of the clearing he occasionallycaught glimpses of armed warriors apparently guarding thevillage against surprise from an attacking enemy.

　　He noticed that the women alone worked. Nowhere wasthere evidence of a man tilling the fields or performingany of the homely duties of the village.

　　Finally his eyes rested upon a woman directly beneath him.

　　Before her was a small cauldron standing over a low fireand in it bubbled a thick, reddish, tarry mass. On one side ofher lay a quantity of wooden arrows the points of which shedipped into the seething substance, then laying them upon anarrow rack of boughs which stood upon her other side.

　　Tarzan of the Apes was fascinated. Here was the secret ofthe terrible destructiveness of The Archer's tiny missiles.He noted the extreme care which the woman took that none ofthe matter should touch her hands, and once when a particlespattered upon one of her fingers he saw her plunge themember into a vessel of water and quickly rub the tiny stainaway with a handful of leaves.

　　Tarzan knew nothing of poison, but his shrewd reasoningtold him that it was this deadly stuff that killed, and not thelittle arrow, which was merely the messenger that carried itinto the body of its victim.

　　How he should like to have more of those little death-dealingslivers. If the woman would only leave her work for aninstant he could drop down, gather up a handful, and beback in the tree again before she drew three breaths.

　　As he was trying to think out some plan to distract herattention he heard a wild cry from across the clearing. Helooked and saw a black warrior standing beneath the verytree in which he had killed the murderer of Kala an hour before.

　　The fellow was shouting and waving his spear above hishead. Now and again he would point to something on theground before him.

　　The village was in an uproar instantly. Armed men rushedfrom the interior of many a hut and raced madly across theclearing toward the excited sentry. After them trooped theold men, and the women and children until, in a moment, thevillage was deserted.

　　Tarzan of the Apes knew that they had found the body ofhis victim, but that interested him far less than the fact thatno one remained in the village to prevent his taking a supplyof the arrows which lay below him.

　　Quickly and noiselessly he dropped to the ground besidethe cauldron of poison. For a moment he stood motionless,his quick, bright eyes scanning the interior of the palisade.

　　No one was in sight. His eyes rested upon the open doorwayof a nearby hut. He would take a look within, thought Tarzan,and so, cautiously, he approached the low thatched building.

　　For a moment he stood without, listening intently. There wasno sound, and he glided into the semi-darkness of the interior.

　　Weapons hung against the walls--long spears, strangelyshaped knives, a couple of narrow shields. In the center ofthe room was a cooking pot, and at the far end a litter of drygrasses covered by woven mats which evidently served theowners as beds and bedding. Several human skulls lay uponthe floor.

　　Tarzan of the Apes felt of each article, hefted the spears,smelled of them, for he "saw" largely through his sensitiveand highly trained nostrils. He determined to own one ofthese long, pointed sticks, but he could not take one on thistrip because of the arrows he meant to carry.

　　As he took each article from the walls, he placed it in apile in the center of the room. On top of all he placed thecooking pot, inverted, and on top of this he laid one of thegrinning skulls, upon which he fastened the headdress of thedead Kulonga.

　　Then he stood back, surveyed his work, and grinned.Tarzan of the Apes enjoyed a joke.

　　But now he heard, outside, the sounds of many voices, andlong mournful howls, and mighty wailing. He was startled.Had he remained too long? Quickly he reached the doorwayand peered down the village street toward the village gate.

　　The natives were not yet in sight, though he could plainlyhear them approaching across the plantation. They must bevery near.

　　Like a flash he sprang across the opening to the pile of arrows.Gathering up all he could carry under one arm, he overturnedthe seething cauldron with a kick, and disappeared intothe foliage above just as the first of the returning nativesentered the gate at the far end of the village street. Then heturned to watch the proceeding below, poised like some wildbird ready to take swift wing at the first sign of danger.

　　The natives filed up the street, four of them bearing thedead body of Kulonga. Behind trailed the women, utteringstrange cries and weird lamentation. On they came to theportals of Kulonga's hut, the very one in which Tarzan hadwrought his depredations.

　　Scarcely had half a dozen entered the building ere theycame rushing out in wild, jabbering confusion. The othershastened to gather about. There was much excited gesticulating,pointing, and chattering; then several of the warriorsapproached and peered within.

　　Finally an old fellow with many ornaments of metal abouthis arms and legs, and a necklace of dried human handsdepending upon his chest, entered the hut.

　　It was Mbonga, the king, father of Kulonga.

　　For a few moments all was silent. Then Mbonga emerged,a look of mingled wrath and superstitious fear writ upon hishideous countenance. He spoke a few words to the assembledwarriors, and in an instant the men were flying through thelittle village searching minutely every hut and corner withinthe palisades.

　　Scarcely had the search commenced than the overturnedcauldron was discovered, and with it the theft of the poisonedarrows. Nothing more they found, and it was a thoroughlyawed and frightened group of savages which huddled aroundtheir king a few moments later.

　　Mbonga could explain nothing of the strange events thathad taken place. The finding of the still warm body ofKulonga--on the very verge of their fields and within easyearshot of the village--knifed and stripped at the door ofhis father's home, was in itself sufficiently mysterious, butthese last awesome discoveries within the village, within thedead Kulonga's own hut, filled their hearts with dismay, andconjured in their poor brains only the most frightful ofsuperstitious explanations.

　　They stood in little groups, talking in low tones, and evercasting affrighted glances behind them from their greatrolling eyes.

　　Tarzan of the Apes watched them for a while from hislofty perch in the great tree. There was much in theirdemeanor which he could not understand, for of superstitionhe was ignorant, and of fear of any kind he had but a vagueconception.

　　The sun was high in the heavens. Tarzan had not brokenfast this day, and it was many miles to where lay thetoothsome remains of Horta the boar.

　　So he turned his back upon the village of Mbonga andmelted away into the leafy fastness of the forest.