Chapter XXIII. Brother Men

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

　　When D'Arnot regained consciousness, he found himselflying upon a bed of soft ferns and grasses beneath alittle "A" shaped shelter of boughs.

　　At his feet an opening looked out upon a green sward, and at alittle distance beyond was the dense wall of jungle and forest.

　　He was very lame and sore and weak, and as full consciousnessreturned he felt the sharp torture of many cruelwounds and the dull aching of every bone and muscle in hisbody as a result of the hideous beating he had received.

　　Even the turning of his head caused him such excruciatingagony that he lay still with closed eyes for a long time.

　　He tried to piece out the details of his adventure prior tothe time he lost consciousness to see if they would explain hispresent whereabouts--he wondered if he were among friendsor foes.

　　At length he recollected the whole hideous scene at thestake, and finally recalled the strange white figure in whosearms he had sunk into oblivion.

　　D'Arnot wondered what fate lay in store for him now. Hecould neither see nor hear any signs of life about him.

　　The incessant hum of the jungle--the rustling of millionsof leaves--the buzz of insects--the voices of the birds andmonkeys seemed blended into a strangely soothing purr, asthough he lay apart, far from the myriad life whose soundscame to him only as a blurred echo.

　　At length he fell into a quiet slumber, nor did he awakeagain until afternoon.

　　Once more he experienced the strange sense of utterbewilderment that had marked his earlier awakening, but soon herecalled the recent past, and looking through the opening athis feet he saw the figure of a man squatting on his haunches.

　　The broad, muscular back was turned toward him, but,tanned though it was, D'Arnot saw that it was the back of awhite man, and he thanked God.

　　The Frenchman called faintly. The man turned, and rising,came toward the shelter. His face was very handsome--thehandsomest, thought D'Arnot, that he had ever seen.

　　Stooping, he crawled into the shelter beside the woundedofficer, and placed a cool hand upon his forehead.

　　D'Arnot spoke to him in French, but the man only shookhis head--sadly, it seemed to the Frenchman.

　　Then D'Arnot tried English, but still the man shook his head.Italian, Spanish and German brought similar discouragement.

　　D'Arnot knew a few words of Norwegian, Russian, Greek,and also had a smattering of the language of one of theWest Coast negro tribes--the man denied them all.

　　After examining D'Arnot's wounds the man left the shelterand disappeared. In half an hour he was back with fruit anda hollow gourd-like vegetable filled with water.

　　D'Arnot drank and ate a little. He was surprised that hehad no fever. Again he tried to converse with his strangenurse, but the attempt was useless.

　　Suddenly the man hastened from the shelter only to returna few minutes later with several pieces of bark and--wonderof wonders--a lead pencil.

　　Squatting beside D'Arnot he wrote for a minute on thesmooth inner surface of the bark; then he handed it to theFrenchman.

　　D'Arnot was astonished to see, in plain print-like characters,a message in English:

　　I am Tarzan of the Apes. Who are you? Can you read thislanguage?

　　D'Arnot seized the pencil--then he stopped. This strangeman wrote English--evidently he was an Englishman.

　　"Yes," said D'Arnot, "I read English. I speak it also. Nowwe may talk. First let me thank you for all that you havedone for me."

　　The man only shook his head and pointed to the penciland the bark.

　　"Mon Dieu!" cried D'Arnot. "If you are English why is itthen that you cannot speak English?"

　　And then in a flash it came to him--the man was a mute,possibly a deaf mute.

　　So D'Arnot wrote a message on the bark, in English.

　　I am Paul d'Arnot, Lieutenant in the navy of France. Ithank you for what you have done for me. You have savedmy life, and all that I have is yours. May I ask how itis that one who writes English does not speak it?

　　Tarzan's reply filled D'Arnot with still greater wonder:

　　I speak only the language of my tribe--the great apes whowere Kerchak's; and a little of the languages of Tantor, theelephant, and Numa, the lion, and of the other folks of thejungle I understand. With a human being I have never spoken,except once with Jane Porter, by signs. This is the first timeI have spoken with another of my kind through written words.

　　D'Arnot was mystified. It seemed incredible that therelived upon earth a full-grown man who had never spokenwith a fellow man, and still more preposterous that such aone could read and write.

　　He looked again at Tarzan's message--"except once, withJane Porter." That was the American girl who had beencarried into the jungle by a gorilla.

　　A sudden light commenced to dawn on D'Arnot--this thenwas the "gorilla." He seized the pencil and wrote:

　　Where is Jane Porter?

　　And Tarzan replied, below:

　　Back with her people in the cabin of Tarzan of the Apes.

　　She is not dead then? Where was she? What happened to her?

　　She is not dead. She was taken by Terkoz to be his wife;but Tarzan of the Apes took her away from Terkoz andkilled him before he could harm her.

　　None in all the jungle may face Tarzan of the Apes in battle,and live. I am Tarzan of the Apes--mighty fighter.

　　D'Arnot wrote:

　　I am glad she is safe. It pains me to write, I will rest awhile.

　　And then Tarzan:

　　Yes, rest. When you are well I shall take you back to your people.

　　For many days D'Arnot lay upon his bed of soft ferns.The second day a fever had come and D'Arnot thought thatit meant infection and he knew that he would die.

　　An idea came to him. He wondered why he had notthought of it before.

　　He called Tarzan and indicated by signs that he wouldwrite, and when Tarzan had fetched the bark and pencil,D'Arnot wrote:

　　Can you go to my people and lead them here? I will writea message that you may take to them, and they will follow you.

　　Tarzan shook his head and taking the bark, wrote:

　　I had thought of that--the first day; but I dared not. Thegreat apes come often to this spot, and if they found youhere, wounded and alone, they would kill you.

　　D'Arnot turned on his side and closed his eyes. He did notwish to die; but he felt that he was going, for the fever wasmounting higher and higher. That night he lost consciousness.

　　For three days he was in delirium, and Tarzan sat besidehim and bathed his head and hands and washed his wounds.

　　On the fourth day the fever broke as suddenly as it hadcome, but it left D'Arnot a shadow of his former self, andvery weak. Tarzan had to lift him that he might drink fromthe gourd.

　　The fever had not been the result of infection, as D'Arnothad thought, but one of those that commonly attack whites inthe jungles of Africa, and either kill or leave them assuddenly 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 Tarzanfound 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 familiarobjects and repeating their names in French, for he thoughtthat 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 tellone language from another, so when he pointed to the wordman which he had printed upon a piece of bark he learnedfrom D'Arnot that it was pronounced homme, and in thesame way he was taught to pronounce ape, singe and tree,arbre.

　　He was a most eager student, and in two more days hadmastered so much French that he could speak little sentencessuch as: "That is a tree," "this is grass," "I am hungry," andthe like, but D'Arnot found that it was difficult to teach himthe French construction upon a foundation of English.

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

　　D'Arnot realized now that he had made a mistake, but itseemed too late to go back and do it all over again and forceTarzan to unlearn all that he had learned, especially as theywere rapidly approaching a point where they would be ableto converse.

　　On the third day after the fever broke Tarzan wrote a messageasking D'Arnot if he felt strong enough to be carriedback 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 Frenchmanall these days for that very reason, and that he hadunselfishly done so spoke more glowingly of his nobilityof character than even did his rescuing the French officerfrom 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 hearthe phrase that he used so often glide from Tarzan's tongue.

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

　　Mid-afternoon brought them to the clearing, and as Tarzandropped to earth from the branches of the last tree his heartleaped and bounded against his ribs in anticipation of seeingJane so soon again.

　　No one was in sight outside the cabin, and D'Arnot wasperplexed to note that neither the cruiser nor the Arrow wasat anchor in the bay.

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

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

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

　　The men turned and looked at one another. D'Arnot knewthat his people thought him dead; but Tarzan thought only ofthe woman who had kissed him in love and now had fledfrom him while he was serving one of her people.

　　A great bitterness rose in his heart. He would go away, farinto the jungle and join his tribe. Never would he see one ofhis own kind again, nor could he bear the thought of returningto the cabin. He would leave that forever behind himwith the great hopes he had nursed there of finding his ownrace and becoming a man among men.

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

　　As Tarzan stood upon the threshold brooding, D'Arnothad entered the cabin. Many comforts he saw that had beenleft behind. He recognized numerous articles from the cruiser--a camp oven, some kitchen utensils, a rifle and manyrounds of ammunition, canned foods, blankets, two chairsand 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 somany years before to serve as a desk, and on it he saw twonotes addressed to Tarzan of the Apes.

　　One was in a strong masculine hand and was unsealed. Theother, 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 companionwas not there.

　　D'Arnot walked to the door and looked out. Tarzan wasnowhere 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 whenthey had discovered that the cabin was empty--such a lookas the hunter sees in the eyes of the wounded deer he haswantonly 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 thehorror of the place commenced to get on his nerves--alreadyweakened by the ordeal of suffering and sickness he hadpassed through.

　　To be left here alone beside this awful jungle--never tohear a human voice or see a human face--in constant dreadof savage beasts and more terribly savage men--a prey tosolitude and hopelessness. It was awful.

　　And far to the east Tarzan of the Apes was speedingthrough the middle terrace back to his tribe. Never had hetraveled with such reckless speed. He felt that he was runningaway from himself--that by hurtling through the forest likea 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, goingin 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 suitedyour 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, becauseone of them has run away from you."

　　D'Arnot closed the cabin door. He was very nervous. Evenbrave men, and D'Arnot was a brave man, are sometimesfrightened 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 letteraddressed to Tarzan.

　　Possibly it contained word that his people had but left thebeach temporarily. He felt that it would be no breach of ethicsto read this letter, so he took the enclosure from the envelopeand read:

　　To Tarzan of the Apes:

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

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

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

　　We sail within the hour, never to return; but we wish youand that other jungle friend to know that we shall alwaysthank you for what you did for strangers on your shore, andthat we should have done infinitely more to reward you bothhad you given us the opportunity.Very respectfully,Wm. Cecil Clayton.

　　"`Never to return,'" muttered D'Arnot, and threw himselfface downward upon the cot.

　　An hour later he started up listening. Something was at thedoor 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 verydark; 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 somethingstanding just beyond.

　　D'Arnot sighted along the blue barrel at the crack of thedoor--and then he pulled the trigger.