Chapter 15

Beasts of Tarzan

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER 15, BEASTS OF TARZAN by Edgar R. Burroughs
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Down the Ugambi


Halfway between the Ugambi and the village of the Waganwazam,
Tarzan came upon the pack moving slowly along his old spoor.
Mugambi could scarce believe that the trail of the Russian
and the mate of his savage master had passed so close to
that of the pack.

It seemed incredible that two human beings should have
come so close to them without having been detected by some
of the marvellously keen and alert beasts; but Tarzan pointed
out the spoor of the two he trailed, and at certain points the
black could see that the man and the woman must have been
in hiding as the pack passed them, watching every move of
the ferocious creatures.

It had been apparent to Tarzan from the first that Jane and
Rokoff were not travelling together. The spoor showed
distinctly that the young woman had been a considerable distance
ahead of the Russian at first, though the farther the ape-man
continued along the trail the more obvious it became that the
man was rapidly overhauling his quarry.

At first there had been the spoor of wild beasts over the
footprints of Jane Clayton, while upon the top of all Rokoff's
spoor showed that he had passed over the trail after the animals
had left their records upon the ground. But later there
were fewer and fewer animal imprints occurring between
those of Jane's and the Russian's feet, until as he approached
the river the ape-man became aware that Rokoff could not
have been more than a few hundred yards behind the girl.

He felt they must be close ahead of him now, and, with a
little thrill of expectation, he leaped rapidly forward ahead
of the pack. Swinging swiftly through the trees, he came out
upon the river-bank at the very point at which Rokoff had
overhauled Jane as she endeavoured to launch the cumbersome dugout.

In the mud along the bank the ape-man saw the footprints
of the two he sought, but there was neither boat nor people
there when he arrived, nor, at first glance, any sign of
their whereabouts.

It was plain that they had shoved off a native canoe and
embarked upon the bosom of the stream, and as the ape-man's
eye ran swiftly down the course of the river beneath the
shadows of the overarching trees he saw in the distance,
just as it rounded a bend that shut it off from his view,
a drifting dugout in the stern of which was the figure of a man.

Just as the pack came in sight of the river they saw their
agile leader racing down the river's bank, leaping from hummock
to hummock of the swampy ground that spread between them and
a little promontory which rose just where the river curved
inward from their sight.

To follow him it was necessary for the heavy, cumbersome
apes to make a wide detour, and Sheeta, too, who hated water.
Mugambi followed after them as rapidly as he could
in the wake of the great white master.

A half-hour of rapid travelling across the swampy neck of
land and over the rising promontory brought Tarzan, by a
short cut, to the inward bend of the winding river, and there
before him upon the bosom of the stream he saw the dugout,
and in its stern Nikolas Rokoff.

Jane was not with the Russian.

At sight of his enemy the broad scar upon the ape-man's
brow burned scarlet, and there rose to his lips the hideous,
bestial challenge of the bull-ape.

Rokoff shuddered as the weird and terrible alarm fell upon
his ears. Cowering in the bottom of the boat, his teeth
chattering in terror, he watched the man he feared above all
other creatures upon the face of the earth as he ran quickly
to the edge of the water.

Even though the Russian knew that he was safe from his enemy,
the very sight of him threw him into a frenzy of trembling cowardice,
which became frantic hysteria as he saw the white giant dive fearlessly
into the forbidding waters of the tropical river.

With steady, powerful strokes the ape-man forged out into
the stream toward the drifting dugout. Now Rokoff seized
one of the paddles lying in the bottom of the craft, and,
with terrorwide eyes still glued upon the living death that
pursued him, struck out madly in an effort to augment the speed
of the unwieldy canoe.

And from the opposite bank a sinister ripple, unseen by
either man, moving steadily toward the half-naked swimmer.

Tarzan had reached the stern of the craft at last. One hand
upstretched grasped the gunwale. Rokoff sat frozen with fear,
unable to move a hand or foot, his eyes riveted upon the face
of his Nemesis.

Then a sudden commotion in the water behind the swimmer caught
his attention. He saw the ripple, and he knew what caused it.

At the same instant Tarzan felt mighty jaws close upon his
right leg. He tried to struggle free and raise himself over the
side of the boat. His efforts would have succeeded had not
this unexpected interruption galvanized the malign brain of
the Russian into instant action with its sudden promise of
deliverance and revenge.

Like a venomous snake the man leaped toward the stern of the boat,
and with a single swift blow struck Tarzan across the head with
the heavy paddle. The ape-man's fingers slipped from their hold
upon the gunwale.

There was a short struggle at the surface, and then a swirl of waters,
a little eddy, and a burst of bubbles soon smoothed out by the flowing
current marked for the instant the spot where Tarzan of the Apes,
Lord of the Jungle, disappeared from the sight of men beneath the
gloomy waters of the dark and forbidding Ugambi.

Weak from terror, Rokoff sank shuddering into the bottom of the dugout.
For a moment he could not realize the good fortune that had befallen him--
all that he could see was the figure of a silent, struggling white man
disappearing beneath the surface of the river to unthinkable death in
the slimy mud of the bottom.

Slowly all that it meant to him filtered into the mind of the
Russian, and then a cruel smile of relief and triumph touched
his lips; but it was short-lived, for just as he was
congratulating himself that he was now comparatively safe to
proceed upon his way to the coast unmolested, a mighty
pandemonium rose from the river-bank close by.

As his eyes sought the authors of the frightful sound he
saw standing upon the shore, glaring at him with hate-filled
eyes, a devil-faced panther surrounded by the hideous apes
of Akut, and in the forefront of them a giant black warrior
who shook his fist at him, threatening him with terrible death.

The nightmare of that flight down the Ugambi with the hideous horde
racing after him by day and by night, now abreast of him, now lost
in the mazes of the jungle far behind for hours and once for a whole day,
only to reappear again upon his trail grim, relentless, and terrible,
reduced the Russian from a strong and robust man to an emaciated,
white-haired, fear-gibbering thing before ever the bay and the ocean
broke upon his hopeless vision.

Past populous villages he had fled. Time and again warriors
had put out in their canoes to intercept him, but each
time the hideous horde had swept into view to send the
terrified natives shrieking back to the shore to lose
themselves in the jungle.

Nowhere in his flight had he seen aught of Jane Clayton.
Not once had his eyes rested upon her since that moment at
the river's brim his hand had closed upon the rope attached
to the bow of her dugout and he had believed her safely in
his power again, only to be thwarted an instant later as the
girl snatched up a heavy express rifle from the bottom of the
craft and levelled it full at his breast.

Quickly he had dropped the rope then and seen her float away
beyond his reach, but a moment later he had been racing up-stream
toward a little tributary in the mouth of which was hidden the canoe
in which he and his party had come thus far upon their journey
in pursuit of the girl and Anderssen.

What had become of her?

There seemed little doubt in the Russian's mind, however,
but that she had been captured by warriors from one of the
several villages she would have been compelled to pass on
her way down to the sea. Well, he was at least rid of most
of his human enemies.

But at that he would gladly have had them all back in the land
of the living could he thus have been freed from the menace of
the frightful creatures who pursued him with awful relentlessness,
screaming and growling at him every time they came within sight of him.
The one that filled him with the greatest terror was the panther--the
flaming-eyed, devil-faced panther whose grinning jaws gaped wide at him
by day, and whose fiery orbs gleamed wickedly out across the water
from the Cimmerian blackness of the jungle nights.

The sight of the mouth of the Ugambi filled Rokoff with
renewed hope, for there, upon the yellow waters of the bay,
floated the Kincaid at anchor. He had sent the little steamer
away to coal while he had gone up the river, leaving Paulvitch
in charge of her, and he could have cried aloud in his relief
as he saw that she had returned in time to save him.

Frantically he alternately paddled furiously toward her and
rose to his feet waving his paddle and crying aloud in an
attempt to attract the attention of those on board. But loud
as he screamed his cries awakened no answering challenge
from the deck of the silent craft.

Upon the shore behind him a hurried backward glance revealed
the presence of the snarling pack. Even now, he thought,
these manlike devils might yet find a way to reach him even
upon the deck of the steamer unless there were those there
to repel them with firearms.

What could have happened to those he had left upon the
Kincaid? Where was Paulvitch? Could it be that the vessel
was deserted, and that, after all, he was doomed to be overtaken
by the terrible fate that he had been flying from through
all these hideous days and nights? He shivered as might one
upon whose brow death has already laid his clammy finger.

Yet he did not cease to paddle frantically toward the steamer,
and at last, after what seemed an eternity, the bow of the dugout
bumped against the timbers of the Kincaid. Over the ship's side
hung a monkey-ladder, but as the Russian grasped it to ascend
to the deck he heard a warning challenge from above, and,
looking up, gazed into the cold, relentless muzzle of a rifle.

After Jane Clayton, with rifle levelled at the breast of Rokoff,
had succeeded in holding him off until the dugout in
which she had taken refuge had drifted out upon the bosom
of the Ugambi beyond the man's reach, she had lost no time
in paddling to the swiftest sweep of the channel, nor did she
for long days and weary nights cease to hold her craft to the
most rapidly moving part of the river, except when during
the hottest hours of the day she had been wont to drift as the
current would take her, lying prone in the bottom of the canoe,
her face sheltered from the sun with a great palm leaf.

Thus only did she gain rest upon the voyage; at other times
she continually sought to augment the movement of the craft
by wielding the heavy paddle.

Rokoff, on the other hand, had used little or no intelligence
in his flight along the Ugambi, so that more often than not
his craft had drifted in the slow-going eddies, for he habitually
hugged the bank farthest from that along which the hideous horde
pursued and menaced him.

Thus it was that, though he had put out upon the river but
a short time subsequent to the girl, yet she had reached the
bay fully two hours ahead of him. When she had first seen
the anchored ship upon the quiet water, Jane Clayton's heart
had beat fast with hope and thanksgiving, but as she drew
closer to the craft and saw that it was the Kincaid,
her pleasure gave place to the gravest misgivings.

It was too late, however, to turn back, for the current that
carried her toward the ship was much too strong for her muscles.
She could not have forced the heavy dugout upstream against it,
and all that was left her was to attempt either to make the
shore without being seen by those upon the deck of the Kincaid,
or to throw herself upon their mercy--otherwise she must be
swept out to sea.

She knew that the shore held little hope of life for her, as
she had no knowledge of the location of the friendly Mosula
village to which Anderssen had taken her through the darkness
of the night of their escape from the Kincaid.

With Rokoff away from the steamer it might be possible
that by offering those in charge a large reward they could be
induced to carry her to the nearest civilized port. It was
worth risking--if she could make the steamer at all.

The current was bearing her swiftly down the river, and
she found that only by dint of the utmost exertion could she
direct the awkward craft toward the vicinity of the Kincaid.
Having reached the decision to board the steamer, she now
looked to it for aid, but to her surprise the decks appeared to
be empty and she saw no sign of life aboard the ship.

The dugout was drawing closer and closer to the bow of
the vessel, and yet no hail came over the side from any
lookout aboard. In a moment more, Jane realized, she would be
swept beyond the steamer, and then, unless they lowered a
boat to rescue her, she would be carried far out to sea by the
current and the swift ebb tide that was running.

The young woman called loudly for assistance, but there
was no reply other than the shrill scream of some savage
beast upon the jungle-shrouded shore. Frantically Jane
wielded the paddle in an effort to carry her craft close
alongside the steamer.

For a moment it seemed that she should miss her goal by
but a few feet, but at the last moment the canoe swung close
beneath the steamer's bow and Jane barely managed to grasp
the anchor chain.

Heroically she clung to the heavy iron links, almost dragged
from the canoe by the strain of the current upon her craft.
Beyond her she saw a monkey-ladder dangling over the
steamer's side. To release her hold upon the chain and chance
clambering to the ladder as her canoe was swept beneath it
seemed beyond the pale of possibility, yet to remain clinging
to the anchor chain appeared equally as futile.

Finally her glance chanced to fall upon the rope in the bow
of the dugout, and, making one end of this fast to the chain,
she succeeded in drifting the canoe slowly down until it lay
directly beneath the ladder. A moment later, her rifle slung
about her shoulders, she had clambered safely to the deserted deck.

Her first task was to explore the ship, and this she did, her
rifle ready for instant use should she meet with any human
menace aboard the Kincaid. She was not long in discovering
the cause of the apparently deserted condition of the steamer,
for in the forecastle she found the sailors, who had evidently
been left to guard the ship, deep in drunken slumber.

With a shudder of disgust she clambered above, and to the
best of her ability closed and made fast the hatch above the
heads of the sleeping guard. Next she sought the galley and
food, and, having appeased her hunger, she took her place
on deck, determined that none should board the Kincaid
without first having agreed to her demands.

For an hour or so nothing appeared upon the surface of
the river to cause her alarm, but then, about a bend upstream,
she saw a canoe appear in which sat a single figure. It had
not proceeded far in her direction before she recognized the
occupant as Rokoff, and when the fellow attempted to board
he found a rifle staring him in the face.

When the Russian discovered who it was that repelled his
advance he became furious, cursing and threatening in a most
horrible manner; but, finding that these tactics failed to
frighten or move the girl, he at last fell to pleading and promising.

Jane had but a single reply for his every proposition, and
that was that nothing would ever persuade her to permit Rokoff
upon the same vessel with her. That she would put her
threats into action and shoot him should he persist in his
endeavour to board the ship he was convinced.

So, as there was no other alternative, the great coward
dropped back into his dugout and, at imminent risk of being
swept to sea, finally succeeded in making the shore far down
the bay and upon the opposite side from that on which the
horde of beasts stood snarling and roaring.

Jane Clayton knew that the fellow could not alone and
unaided bring his heavy craft back up-stream to the
Kincaid, and so she had no further fear of an attack by him.
The hideous crew upon the shore she thought she recognized as
the same that had passed her in the jungle far up the Ugambi
several days before, for it seemed quite beyond reason that
there should be more than one such a strangely assorted pack;
but what had brought them down-stream to the mouth of the
river she could not imagine.

Toward the day's close the girl was suddenly alarmed by
the shouting of the Russian from the opposite bank of the
stream, and a moment later, following the direction of his
gaze, she was terrified to see a ship's boat approaching from
up-stream, in which, she felt assured, there could be only
members of the Kincaid's missing crew--only heartless
ruffians and enemies.