Chapter XIII. His Own Kind

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

　　The following morning, Tarzan, lame and sore from thewounds of his battle with Terkoz, set out toward the westand the seacoast.

　　He traveled very slowly, sleeping in the jungle at night,and reaching his cabin late the following morning.

　　For several days he moved about but little, only enough togather what fruits and nuts he required to satisfy the demandsof hunger.

　　In ten days he was quite sound again, except for a terrible,half-healed scar, which, starting above his left eye ran acrossthe top of his head, ending at the right ear. It was the markleft by Terkoz when he had torn the scalp away.

　　During his convalescence Tarzan tried to fashion a mantlefrom the skin of Sabor, which had lain all this time in thecabin. But he found the hide had dried as stiff as a board,and as he knew naught of tanning, he was forced to abandonhis cherished plan.

　　Then he determined to filch what few garments he couldfrom one of the black men of Mbonga's village, for Tarzanof the Apes had decided to mark his evolution from thelower orders in every possible manner, and nothing seemed tohim a more distinguishing badge of manhood than ornamentsand clothing.

　　To this end, therefore, he collected the various arm and legornaments he had taken from the black warriors who hadsuccumbed to his swift and silent noose, and donned them allafter the way he had seen them worn.

　　About his neck hung the golden chain from which dependedthe diamond encrusted locket of his mother, the LadyAlice. At his back was a quiver of arrows slung from aleathern shoulder belt, another piece of loot from somevanquished black.

　　About his waist was a belt of tiny strips of rawhidefashioned by himself as a support for the home-made scabbard inwhich hung his father's hunting knife. The long bow whichhad been Kulonga's hung over his left shoulder.

　　The young Lord Greystoke was indeed a strange and war-likefigure, his mass of black hair falling to his shouldersbehind and cut with his hunting knife to a rude bang uponhis forehead, that it might not fall before his eyes.

　　His straight and perfect figure, muscled as the best of theancient Roman gladiators must have been muscled, and yetwith the soft and sinuous curves of a Greek god, told at aglance the wondrous combination of enormous strength withsuppleness and speed.

　　A personification, was Tarzan of the Apes, of the primitiveman, the hunter, the warrior.

　　With the noble poise of his handsome head upon those broadshoulders, and the fire of life and intelligence in thosefine, clear eyes, he might readily have typified some demigodof a wild and warlike bygone people of his ancient forest.

　　But of these things Tarzan did not think. He was worriedbecause he had not clothing to indicate to all the jungle folksthat he was a man and not an ape, and grave doubt oftenentered his mind as to whether he might not yet become an ape.

　　Was not hair commencing to grow upon his face? All theapes had hair upon theirs but the black men were entirelyhairless, with very few exceptions.

　　True, he had seen pictures in his books of men with greatmasses of hair upon lip and cheek and chin, but, nevertheless,Tarzan was afraid. Almost daily he whetted his keen knifeand scraped and whittled at his young beard to eradicate thisdegrading emblem of apehood.

　　And so he learned to shave--rudely and painfully, it istrue--but, nevertheless, effectively.

　　When he felt quite strong again, after his bloody battlewith Terkoz, Tarzan set off one morning towards Mbonga'svillage. He was moving carelessly along a winding jungletrail, instead of making his progress through the trees, whensuddenly he came face to face with a black warrior.

　　The look of surprise on the savage face was almost comical,and before Tarzan could unsling his bow the fellow hadturned and fled down the path crying out in alarm as thoughto others before him.

　　Tarzan took to the trees in pursuit, and in a few momentscame in view of the men desperately striving to escape.

　　There were three of them, and they were racing madly insingle file through the dense undergrowth.

　　Tarzan easily distanced them, nor did they see his silentpassage above their heads, nor note the crouching figuresquatted upon a low branch ahead of them beneath which thetrail led them.

　　Tarzan let the first two pass beneath him, but as the thirdcame swiftly on, the quiet noose dropped about the blackthroat. A quick jerk drew it taut.

　　There was an agonized scream from the victim, and hisfellows turned to see his struggling body rise as by magicslowly into the dense foliage of the trees above.

　　With frightened shrieks they wheeled once more and plungedon in their efforts to escape.

　　Tarzan dispatched his prisoner quickly and silently; removedthe weapons and ornaments, and--oh, the greatest joyof all--a handsome deerskin breechcloth, which he quicklytransferred to his own person.

　　Now indeed was he dressed as a man should be. Nonethere was who could now doubt his high origin. How heshould have liked to have returned to the tribe to paradebefore their envious gaze this wondrous finery.

　　Taking the body across his shoulder, he moved moreslowly through the trees toward the little palisaded village,for he again needed arrows.

　　As he approached quite close to the enclosure he saw anexcited group surrounding the two fugitives, who, tremblingwith fright and exhaustion, were scarce able to recount theuncanny details of their adventure.

　　Mirando, they said, who had been ahead of them a shortdistance, had suddenly come screaming toward them, cryingthat a terrible white and naked warrior was pursuing him.The three of them had hurried toward the village as rapidlyas their legs would carry them.

　　Again Mirando's shrill cry of mortal terror had causedthem to look back, and there they had seen the most horriblesight--their companion's body flying upwards into the trees,his arms and legs beating the air and his tongue protrudingfrom his open mouth. No other sound did he utter nor wasthere any creature in sight about him.

　　The villagers were worked up into a state of fear borderingon panic, but wise old Mbonga affected to feel considerableskepticism regarding the tale, and attributed the wholefabrication to their fright in the face of some real danger.

　　"You tell us this great story," he said, "because you do notdare to speak the truth. You do not dare admit that when thelion sprang upon Mirando you ran away and left him. Youare cowards."

　　Scarcely had Mbonga ceased speaking when a great crashingof branches in the trees above them caused the blacks tolook up in renewed terror. The sight that met their eyes madeeven wise old Mbonga shudder, for there, turning and twistingin the air, came the dead body of Mirando, to sprawl with asickening reverberation upon the ground at their feet.

　　With one accord the blacks took to their heels; nor didthey stop until the last of them was lost in the denseshadows of the surrounding jungle.

　　Again Tarzan came down into the village and renewed hissupply of arrows and ate of the offering of food which theblacks had made to appease his wrath.

　　Before he left he carried the body of Mirando to the gateof the village, and propped it up against the palisade in sucha way that the dead face seemed to be peering around theedge of the gatepost down the path which led to the jungle.

　　Then Tarzan returned, hunting, always hunting, to thecabin by the beach.

　　It took a dozen attempts on the part of the thoroughlyfrightened blacks to reenter their village, past the horrible,grinning face of their dead fellow, and when they found thefood and arrows gone they knew, what they had only too wellfeared, that Mirando had seen the evil spirit of the jungle.

　　That now seemed to them the logical explanation. Onlythose who saw this terrible god of the jungle died; for was itnot true that none left alive in the village had ever seen him?Therefore, those who had died at his hands must have seenhim and paid the penalty with their lives.

　　As long as they supplied him with arrows and food hewould not harm them unless they looked upon him, so it wasordered by Mbonga that in addition to the food offering thereshould also be laid out an offering of arrows for this Munan-go-Keewati, and this was done from then on.

　　If you ever chance to pass that far off African village youwill still see before a tiny thatched hut, built just without thevillage, a little iron pot in which is a quantity of food, andbeside it a quiver of well-daubed arrows.

　　When Tarzan came in sight of the beach where stood hiscabin, a strange and unusual spectacle met his vision.

　　On the placid waters of the landlocked harbor floated agreat ship, and on the beach a small boat was drawn up.

　　But, most wonderful of all, a number of white men likehimself were moving about between the beach and his cabin.

　　Tarzan saw that in many ways they were like the men of hispicture books. He crept closer through the trees until hewas quite close above them.

　　There were ten men, swarthy, sun-tanned, villainous lookingfellows. Now they had congregated by the boat and weretalking in loud, angry tones, with much gesticulating andshaking of fists.

　　Presently one of them, a little, mean-faced, black-beardedfellow with a countenance which reminded Tarzan of Pamba,the rat, laid his hand upon the shoulder of a giant who stoodnext him, and with whom all the others had been arguing andquarreling.

　　The little man pointed inland, so that the giant was forcedto turn away from the others to look in the directionindicated. As he turned, the little, mean-faced man drew arevolver from his belt and shot the giant in the back.

　　The big fellow threw his hands above his head, his kneesbent beneath him, and without a sound he tumbled forwardupon the beach, dead.

　　The report of the weapon, the first that Tarzan had everheard, filled him with wonderment, but even this unaccustomedsound could not startle his healthy nerves into even asemblance of panic.

　　The conduct of the white strangers it was that caused himthe greatest perturbation. He puckered his brows into afrown of deep thought. It was well, thought he, that he hadnot given way to his first impulse to rush forward and greetthese white men as brothers.

　　They were evidently no different from the black men--nomore civilized than the apes--no less cruel than Sabor.

　　For a moment the others stood looking at the little, mean-faced man and the giant lying dead upon the beach.

　　Then one of them laughed and slapped the little man uponthe back. There was much more talk and gesticulating, butless quarreling.

　　Presently they launched the boat and all jumped into it androwed away toward the great ship, where Tarzan could seeother figures moving about upon the deck.

　　When they had clambered aboard, Tarzan dropped to earthbehind a great tree and crept to his cabin, keeping italways between himself and the ship.

　　Slipping in at the door he found that everything had beenransacked. His books and pencils strewed the floor. His weaponsand shields and other little store of treasures were littered about.

　　As he saw what had been done a great wave of angersurged through him, and the new made scar upon his foreheadstood suddenly out, a bar of inflamed crimson againsthis tawny hide.

　　Quickly he ran to the cupboard and searched in the far recessof the lower shelf. Ah! He breathed a sigh of relief as hedrew out the little tin box, and, opening it, found his greatesttreasures undisturbed.

　　The photograph of the smiling, strong-faced young man,and the little black puzzle book were safe.

　　What was that?

　　His quick ear had caught a faint but unfamiliar sound.

　　Running to the window Tarzan looked toward the harbor,and there he saw that a boat was being lowered from thegreat ship beside the one already in the water. Soon he sawmany people clambering over the sides of the larger vessel anddropping into the boats. They were coming back in full force.

　　For a moment longer Tarzan watched while a number ofboxes and bundles were lowered into the waiting boats, then,as they shoved off from the ship's side, the ape-man snatchedup a piece of paper, and with a pencil printed on it for a fewmoments until it bore several lines of strong, well-made,almost letter-perfect characters.

　　This notice he stuck upon the door with a small sharpsplinter of wood. Then gathering up his precious tin box, hisarrows, and as many bows and spears as he could carry, hehastened through the door and disappeared into the forest.

　　When the two boats were beached upon the silvery sand itwas a strange assortment of humanity that clambered ashore.

　　Some twenty souls in all there were, fifteen of them roughand villainous appearing seamen.

　　The others of the party were of different stamp.

　　One was an elderly man, with white hair and large rimmedspectacles. His slightly stooped shoulders were draped in anill-fitting, though immaculate, frock coat, and a shiny silk hatadded to the incongruity of his garb in an African jungle.

　　The second member of the party to land was a tall young manin white ducks, while directly behind came another elderlyman with a very high forehead and a fussy, excitable manner.

　　After these came a huge Negress clothed like Solomon as tocolors. Her great eyes rolled in evident terror, first towardthe jungle and then toward the cursing band of sailors whowere removing the bales and boxes from the boats.

　　The last member of the party to disembark was a girl ofabout nineteen, and it was the young man who stood at theboat's prow to lift her high and dry upon land. She gave him abrave and pretty smile of thanks, but no words passed between them.

　　In silence the party advanced toward the cabin. It was evidentthat whatever their intentions, all had been decided uponbefore they left the ship; and so they came to the door, thesailors carrying the boxes and bales, followed by the five whowere of so different a class. The men put down their burdens,and then one caught sight of the notice which Tarzan had posted.

　　"Ho, mates!" he cried. "What's here? This sign was notposted an hour ago or I'll eat the cook."

　　The others gathered about, craning their necks over theshoulders of those before them, but as few of them couldread at all, and then only after the most laborious fashion,one finally turned to the little old man of the top hat andfrock coat.

　　"Hi, perfesser," he called, "step for'rd and read thebloomin' notis."

　　Thus addressed, the old man came slowly to where thesailors stood, followed by the other members of his party.Adjusting his spectacles he looked for a moment at theplacard and then, turning away, strolled off muttering tohimself: "Most remarkable--most remarkable!"

　　"Hi, old fossil," cried the man who had first called on himfor assistance, "did je think we wanted of you to read thebloomin' notis to yourself? Come back here and read it outloud, you old barnacle."

　　The old man stopped and, turning back, said: "Oh, yes,my dear sir, a thousand pardons. It was quite thoughtless ofme, yes--very thoughtless. Most remarkable--most remarkable!"

　　Again he faced the notice and read it through, and doubtlesswould have turned off again to ruminate upon it had notthe sailor grasped him roughly by the collar and howled intohis ear.

　　"Read it out loud, you blithering old idiot."

　　"Ah, yes indeed, yes indeed," replied the professor softly,and adjusting his spectacles once more he read aloud:

　　THIS IS THE HOUSE OF TARZAN, THE KILLER OF BEASTS AND MANY BLACK MEN. DO NOT HARM THE THINGS WHICH ARE TARZAN'S. TARZAN WATCHES. TARZAN OF THE APES."Who the devil is Tarzan?" cried the sailor who had before spoken.

　　"He evidently speaks English," said the young man.

　　"But what does `Tarzan of the Apes' mean?" cried the girl.

　　"I do not know, Miss Porter," replied the young man, "unlesswe have discovered a runaway simian from the LondonZoo who has brought back a European education to his junglehome. What do you make of it, Professor Porter?" headded, turning to the old man.

　　Professor Archimedes Q. Porter adjusted his spectacles.

　　"Ah, yes, indeed; yes indeed--most remarkable, mostremarkable!" said the professor; "but I can add nothing furtherto what I have already remarked in elucidation of this trulymomentous occurrence," and the professor turned slowly inthe direction of the jungle.

　　"But, papa," cried the girl, "you haven't said anythingabout it yet."

　　"Tut, tut, child; tut, tut," responded Professor Porter, in akindly and indulgent tone, "do not trouble your pretty headwith such weighty and abstruse problems," and again he wanderedslowly off in still another direction, his eyes bent uponthe ground at his feet, his hands clasped behind him beneaththe flowing tails of his coat.

　　"I reckon the daffy old bounder don't know no more'n wedo about it," growled the rat-faced sailor.

　　"Keep a civil tongue in your head," cried the young man,his face paling in anger, at the insulting tone of the sailor."You've murdered our officers and robbed us. We are absolutelyin your power, but you'll treat Professor Porter andMiss Porter with respect or I'll break that vile neck of yourswith my bare hands--guns or no guns," and the young fellowstepped so close to the rat-faced sailor that the latter, thoughhe bore two revolvers and a villainous looking knife in hisbelt, slunk back abashed.

　　"You damned coward," cried the young man. "You'd neverdare shoot a man until his back was turned. You don'tdare shoot me even then," and he deliberately turned hisback full upon the sailor and walked nonchalantly away asif to put him to the test.

　　The sailor's hand crept slyly to the butt of one of hisrevolvers; his wicked eyes glared vengefully at the retreatingform of the young Englishman. The gaze of his fellows was uponhim, but still he hesitated. At heart he was even a greatercoward than Mr. William Cecil Clayton had imagined.

　　Two keen eyes had watched every move of the party fromthe foliage of a nearby tree. Tarzan had seen the surprisecaused by his notice, and while he could understand nothingof the spoken language of these strange people their gesturesand facial expressions told him much.

　　The act of the little rat-faced sailor in killing one of hiscomrades had aroused a strong dislike in Tarzan, and nowthat he saw him quarreling with the fine-looking young manhis animosity was still further stirred.

　　Tarzan had never seen the effects of a firearm before,though his books had taught him something of them, butwhen he saw the rat-faced one fingering the butt of hisrevolver he thought of the scene he had witnessed so shorta time before, and naturally expected to see the young manmurdered as had been the huge sailor earlier in the day.

　　So Tarzan fitted a poisoned arrow to his bow and drew abead upon the rat-faced sailor, but the foliage was so thickthat he soon saw the arrow would be deflected by the leavesor some small branch, and instead he launched a heavy spearfrom his lofty perch.

　　Clayton had taken but a dozen steps. The rat-faced sailorhad half drawn his revolver; the other sailors stood watchingthe scene intently.

　　Professor Porter had already disappeared into the jungle,whither he was being followed by the fussy Samuel T.Philander, his secretary and assistant.

　　Esmeralda, the Negress, was busy sorting her mistress' baggagefrom the pile of bales and boxes beside the cabin, andMiss Porter had turned away to follow Clayton, when somethingcaused her to turn again toward the sailor.

　　And then three things happened almost simultaneously.The sailor jerked out his weapon and leveled it at Clayton'sback, Miss Porter screamed a warning, and a long, metal-shod spear shot like a bolt from above and passed entirelythrough the right shoulder of the rat-faced man.

　　The revolver exploded harmlessly in the air, and the seamancrumpled up with a scream of pain and terror.

　　Clayton turned and rushed back toward the scene. Thesailors stood in a frightened group, with drawn weapons,peering into the jungle. The wounded man writhed andshrieked upon the ground.

　　Clayton, unseen by any, picked up the fallen revolver andslipped it inside his shirt, then he joined the sailors ingazing, mystified, into the jungle.

　　"Who could it have been?" whispered Jane Porter, and theyoung man turned to see her standing, wide-eyed andwondering, close beside him.

　　"I dare say Tarzan of the Apes is watching us all right," heanswered, in a dubious tone. "I wonder, now, who that spearwas intended for. If for Snipes, then our ape friend is afriend indeed.

　　"By jove, where are your father and Mr. Philander?There's someone or something in that jungle, and it's armed,whatever it is. Ho! Professor! Mr. Philander!" young Claytonshouted. There was no response.

　　"What's to be done, Miss Porter?" continued the youngman, his face clouded by a frown of worry and indecision.

　　"I can't leave you here alone with these cutthroats, andyou certainly can't venture into the jungle with me; yetsomeone must go in search of your father. He is more thanapt to wandering off aimlessly, regardless of danger ordirection, and Mr. Philander is only a trifle less impracticalthan he. You will pardon my bluntness, but our lives areall in jeopardy here, and when we get your father backsomething must be done to impress upon him the dangers towhich he exposes you as well as himself by his absent-mindedness."

　　"I quite agree with you," replied the girl, "and I am notoffended at all. Dear old papa would sacrifice his life for mewithout an instant's hesitation, provided one could keep hismind on so frivolous a matter for an entire instant. There isonly one way to keep him in safety, and that is to chain himto a tree. The poor dear is so impractical."

　　"I have it!" suddenly exclaimed Clayton. "You can use arevolver, can't you?"

　　"Yes. Why?"

　　"I have one. With it you and Esmeralda will be comparativelysafe in this cabin while I am searching for your fatherand Mr. Philander. Come, call the woman and I will hurryon. They can't have gone far."

　　Jane did as he suggested and when he saw the door closesafely behind them Clayton turned toward the jungle.

　　Some of the sailors were drawing the spear from theirwounded comrade and, as Clayton approached, he asked ifhe could borrow a revolver from one of them while hesearched the jungle for the professor.

　　The rat-faced one, finding he was not dead, had regainedhis composure, and with a volley of oaths directed at Claytonrefused in the name of his fellows to allow the young manany firearms.

　　This man, Snipes, had assumed the role of chief since hehad killed their former leader, and so little time had elapsedthat none of his companions had as yet questioned his authority.

　　Clayton's only response was a shrug of the shoulders, butas he left them he picked up the spear which had transfixedSnipes, and thus primitively armed, the son of the then LordGreystoke strode into the dense jungle.

　　Every few moments he called aloud the names of the wanderers.The watchers in the cabin by the beach heard the sound of hisvoice growing ever fainter and fainter, until at last it wasswallowed up by the myriad noises of the primeval wood.

　　When Professor Archimedes Q. Porter and his assistant,Samuel T. Philander, after much insistence on the part of thelatter, had finally turned their steps toward camp, they wereas completely lost in the wild and tangled labyrinth of thematted jungle as two human beings well could be, thoughthey did not know it.

　　It was by the merest caprice of fortune that they headedtoward the west coast of Africa, instead of toward Zanzibaron the opposite side of the dark continent.

　　When in a short time they reached the beach, only to findno camp in sight, Philander was positive that they were northof their proper destination, while, as a matter of fact theywere about two hundred yards south of it.

　　It never occurred to either of these impractical theorists tocall aloud on the chance of attracting their friends' attention.Instead, with all the assurance that deductive reasoning froma wrong premise induces in one, Mr. Samuel T. Philandergrasped Professor Archimedes Q. Porter firmly by the armand hurried the weakly protesting old gentleman off in thedirection of Cape Town, fifteen hundred miles to the south.

　　When Jane and Esmeralda found themselves safely behindthe cabin door the Negress's first thought was to barricadethe portal from the inside. With this idea in mind she turnedto search for some means of putting it into execution; but herfirst view of the interior of the cabin brought a shriek ofterror to her lips, and like a frightened child the huge womanran to bury her face on her mistress' shoulder.

　　Jane, turning at the cry, saw the cause of it lying proneupon the floor before them--the whitened skeleton of a man.A further glance revealed a second skeleton upon the bed.

　　"What horrible place are we in?" murmured the awe-struckgirl. But there was no panic in her fright.

　　At last, disengaging herself from the frantic clutch of the stillshrieking Esmeralda, Jane crossed the room to look into the littlecradle, knowing what she should see there even before the tinyskeleton disclosed itself in all its pitiful and pathetic frailty.

　　What an awful tragedy these poor mute bones proclaimed!The girl shuddered at thought of the eventualities whichmight lie before herself and her friends in this ill-fatedcabin, the haunt of mysterious, perhaps hostile, beings.

　　Quickly, with an impatient stamp of her little foot, sheendeavored to shake off the gloomy forebodings, and turning toEsmeralda bade her cease her wailing.

　　"Stop, Esmeralda, stop it this minute!" she cried. "You areonly making it worse."

　　She ended lamely, a little quiver in her own voice as shethought of the three men, upon whom she depended forprotection, wandering in the depth of that awful forest.

　　Soon the girl found that the door was equipped with aheavy wooden bar upon the inside, and after several effortsthe combined strength of the two enabled them to slip it intoplace, the first time in twenty years.

　　Then they sat down upon a bench with their arms aboutone another, and waited.