Chapter 9

Son of Tarzan

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER 9, SON OF TARZAN by Edgar R. Burroughs
An eText from LiteratureClassics.com.

Please see the eText readme for important copyright information (available from the options menu above if you are browsing online or as a separate file in the archive if you are browsing offline.)



It was an unhappy Korak who wandered aimlessly through the
jungle the day following his inhospitable reception by the
great apes. His heart was heavy from disappointment.
Unsatisfied vengeance smoldered in his breast. He looked with
hatred upon the denizens of his jungle world, bearing his fighting
fangs and growling at those that came within radius of his senses.
The mark of his father's early life was strong upon him and enhanced
by months of association with beasts, from whom the imitative
faculty of youth had absorbed a countless number of little
mannerisms of the predatory creatures of the wild.

He bared his fangs now as naturally and upon as slight
provocation as Sheeta, the panther, bared his. He growled as
ferociously as Akut himself. When he came suddenly upon another
beast his quick crouch bore a strange resemblance to the arching
of a cat's back. Korak, the killer, was looking for trouble.
In his heart of hearts he hoped to meet the king ape who had
driven him from the amphitheater. To this end he insisted upon
remaining in the vicinity; but the exigencies of the perpetual
search for food led them several miles further away during day.

They were moving slowly down wind, and warily because the
advantage was with whatever beast might chance to be hunting
ahead of them, where their scent-spoor was being borne by the
light breeze. Suddenly the two halted simultaneously. Two heads
were cocked upon one side. Like creatures hewn from solid rock
they stood immovable, listening. Not a muscle quivered.
For several seconds they remained thus, then Korak advanced
cautiously a few yards and leaped nimbly into a tree. Akut followed
close upon his heels. Neither had made a noise that would have
been appreciable to human ears at a dozen paces.

Stopping often to listen they crept forward through the trees.
That both were greatly puzzled was apparent from the questioning
looks they cast at one another from time to time. Finally the
lad caught a glimpse of a palisade a hundred yards ahead, and
beyond it the tops of some goatskin tents and a number of
thatched huts. His lip upcurled in a savage snarl. Blacks!
How he hated them. He signed to Akut to remain where he was
while he advanced to reconnoiter.

Woe betide the unfortunate villager whom The Killer came
upon now. Slinking through the lower branches of the trees,
leaping lightly from one jungle giant to its neighbor where the
distance was not too great, or swinging from one hand hold to
another Korak came silently toward the village. He heard a voice
beyond the palisade and toward that he made his way. A great
tree overhung the enclosure at the very point from which the
voice came. Into this Korak crept. His spear was ready in
his hand. His ears told him of the proximity of a human being.
All that his eyes required was a single glance to show him his target.
Then, lightning like, the missile would fly to its goal. With raised
spear he crept among the branches of the tree glaring narrowly
downward in search of the owner of the voice which rose to him
from below.

At last he saw a human back. The spear hand flew to the limit
of the throwing position to gather the force that would send
the iron shod missile completely through the body of the
unconscious victim. And then The Killer paused. He leaned forward
a little to get a better view of the target. Was it to insure more
perfect aim, or had there been that in the graceful lines and the
childish curves of the little body below him that had held in
check the spirit of murder running riot in his veins?

He lowered his spear cautiously that it might make no noise
by scraping against foliage or branches. Quietly he crouched in
a comfortable position along a great limb and there he lay with
wide eyes looking down in wonder upon the creature he had crept
upon to kill--looking down upon a little girl, a little nut
brown maiden. The snarl had gone from his lip. His only
expression was one of interested attention--he was trying to
discover what the girl was doing. Suddenly a broad grin overspread
his face, for a turn of the girl's body had revealed Geeka of the
ivory head and the rat skin torso--Geeka of the splinter limbs and
the disreputable appearance. The little girl raised the marred
face to hers and rocking herself backward and forward crooned
a plaintive Arab lullaby to the doll. A softer light entered the
eyes of The Killer. For a long hour that passed very quickly to
him Korak lay with gaze riveted upon the playing child. Not once
had he had a view of the girl's full face. For the most part he
saw only a mass of wavy, black hair, one brown little shoulder
exposed upon the side from where her single robe was caught
beneath her arm, and a shapely knee protruding from beneath
her garment as she sat cross legged upon the ground. A tilt of
the head as she emphasized some maternal admonition to the
passive Geeka revealed occasionally a rounded cheek or a piquant
little chin. Now she was shaking a slim finger at Geeka,
reprovingly, and again she crushed to her heart this only
object upon which she might lavish the untold wealth of her
childish affections.

Korak, momentarily forgetful of his bloody mission, permitted
the fingers of his spear hand to relax a little their grasp upon
the shaft of his formidable weapon. It slipped, almost falling;
but the occurrence recalled The Killer to himself. It reminded him
of his purpose in slinking stealthily upon the owner of the voice
that had attracted his vengeful attention. He glanced at the spear,
with its well-worn grip and cruel, barbed head. Then he let his
eyes wander again to the dainty form below him. In imagination
he saw the heavy weapon shooting downward. He saw it pierce the
tender flesh, driving its way deep into the yielding body. He saw
the ridiculous doll drop from its owner's arms to lie sprawled
and pathetic beside the quivering body of the little girl.
The Killer shuddered, scowling at the inanimate iron and
wood of the spear as though they constituted a sentient being
endowed with a malignant mind.

Korak wondered what the girl would do were he to drop suddenly
from the tree to her side. Most likely she would scream
and run away. Then would come the men of the village with
spears and guns and set upon him. They would either kill him
or drive him away. A lump rose in the boy's throat. He craved
the companionship of his own kind, though he scarce realized
how greatly. He would have liked to slip down beside the little
girl and talk with her, though he knew from the words he had
overheard that she spoke a language with which he was unfamiliar.
They could have talked by signs a little. That would have
been better than nothing. Too, he would have been glad to see
her face. What he had glimpsed assured him that she was pretty;
but her strongest appeal to him lay in the affectionate nature
revealed by her gentle mothering of the grotesque doll.

At last he hit upon a plan. He would attract her attention,
and reassure her by a smiling greeting from a greater distance.
Silently he wormed his way back into the tree. It was his
intention to hail her from beyond the palisade, giving her
the feeling of security which he imagined the stout barricade
would afford.

He had scarcely left his position in the tree when his attention
was attracted by a considerable noise upon the opposite side of
the village. By moving a little he could see the gate at the far
end of the main street. A number of men, women and children
were running toward it. It swung open, revealing the head of a
caravan upon the opposite side. In trooped the motley organization--
black slaves and dark hued Arabs of the northern deserts; cursing
camel drivers urging on their vicious charges; overburdened
donkeys, waving sadly pendulous ears while they endured with
stoic patience the brutalities of their masters; goats, sheep
and horses. Into the village they all trooped behind a tall,
sour, old man, who rode without greetings to those who shrunk
from his path directly to a large goatskin tent in the center of
the village. Here he spoke to a wrinkled hag.

Korak, from his vantage spot, could see it all. He saw the old
man asking questions of the black woman, and then he saw the
latter point toward a secluded corner of the village which was
hidden from the main street by the tents of the Arabs and the
huts of the natives in the direction of the tree beneath which the
little girl played. This was doubtless her father, thought Korak.
He had been away and his first thought upon returning was of
his little daughter. How glad she would be to see him! How she
would run and throw herself into his arms, to be crushed to his
breast and covered with his kisses. Korak sighed. He thought of
his own father and mother far away in london.

He returned to his place in the tree above the girl. If he
couldn't have happiness of this sort himself he wanted to enjoy
the happiness of others. Possibly if he made himself known to
the old man he might be permitted to come to the village occasionally
as a friend. It would be worth trying. He would wait until the
old Arab had greeted his daughter, then he would make his
presence known with signs of peace.

The Arab was striding softly toward the girl. In a moment he
would be beside her, and then how surprised and delighted she
would be! Korak's eyes sparkled in anticipation--and now the
old man stood behind the little girl. His stern old face was
still unrelaxed. The child was yet unconscious of his presence.
She prattled on to the unresponsive Geeka. Then the old man coughed.
With a start the child glanced quickly up over her shoulder.
Korak could see her full face now. It was very beautiful in its
sweet and innocent childishness--all soft and lovely curves.
He could see her great, dark eyes. He looked for the happy love
light that would follow recognition; but it did not come.
Instead, terror, stark, paralyzing terror, was mirrored in
her eyes, in the expression of her mouth, in the tense, cowering
attitude of her body. A grim smile curved the thin, cruel lip of
the Arab. The child essayed to crawl away; but before she could
get out of his reach the old man kicked her brutally, sending her
sprawling upon the grass. Then he followed her up to seize and
strike her as was his custom.

Above them, in the tree, a beast crouched where a moment
before had been a boy--a beast with dilating nostrils and bared
fangs--a beast that trembled with rage.

The Sheik was stooping to reach for the girl when The Killer
dropped to the ground at his side. His spear was still in his left
hand but he had forgotten it. Instead his right fist was clenched
and as The Sheik took a backward step, astonished by the sudden materialization of this strange
apparition apparently out of
clear air, the heavy fist landed full upon his mouth backed by
the weight of the young giant and the terrific power of his more
than human muscles.

Bleeding and senseless The Sheik sank to earth. Korak turned
toward the child. She had regained her feet and stood wide eyed
and frightened, looking first into his face and then, horror struck,
at the recumbent figure of The Sheik. In an involuntary gesture
of protection The Killer threw an arm about the girl's shoulders
and stood waiting for the Arab to regain consciousness. For a
moment they remained thus, when the girl spoke.

"When he regains his senses he will kill me," she said, in Arabic.

Korak could not understand her. He shook his head, speaking
to her first in English and then in the language of the great apes;
but neither of these was intelligible to her. She leaned forward
and touched the hilt of the long knife that the Arab wore. Then she
raised her clasped hand above her head and drove an imaginary blade
into her breast above her heart. Korak understood. The old man
would kill her. The girl came to his side again and stood
there trembling. She did not fear him. Why should she?
He had saved her from a terrible beating at the hands of
The Sheik. Never, in her memory, had another so befriended her.
She looked up into his face. It was a boyish, handsome face,
nut-brown like her own. She admired the spotted leopard skin
that circled his lithe body from one shoulder to his knees.
The metal anklets and armlets adorning him aroused her envy.
Always had she coveted something of the kind; but never had The
Sheik permitted her more than the single cotton garment that
barely sufficed to cover her nakedness. No furs or silks or
jewelry had there ever been for little Meriem.

And Korak looked at the girl. He had always held girls in a
species of contempt. Boys who associated with them were, in
his estimation, mollycoddles. He wondered what he should do.
Could he leave her here to be abused, possibly murdered, by
the villainous old Arab? No! But, on the other hand, could he
take her into the jungle with him? What could he accomplish
burdened by a weak and frightened girl? She would scream at
her own shadow when the moon came out upon the jungle night
and the great beasts roamed, moaning and roaring, through
the darkness.

He stood for several minutes buried in thought. The girl
watched his face, wondering what was passing in his mind.
She, too, was thinking of the future. She feared to remain
and suffer the vengeance of The Sheik. There was no one in
all the world to whom she might turn, other than this half-naked
stranger who had dropped miraculously from the clouds to save
her from one of The Sheik's accustomed beatings. Would her new
friend leave her now? Wistfully she gazed at his intent face.
She moved a little closer to him, laying a slim, brown hand upon
his arm. The contact awakened the lad from his absorption.
He looked down at her, and then his arm went about her shoulder
once more, for he saw tears upon her lashes.

"Come," he said. "The jungle is kinder than man. You shall
live in the jungle and Korak and Akut will protect you."

She did not understand his words, but the pressure of his arm
drawing her away from the prostrate Arab and the tents was
quite intelligible. One little arm crept about his waist and
together they walked toward the palisade. Beneath the great tree
that had harbored Korak while he watched the girl at play he
lifted her in his arms and throwing her lightly across his
shoulder leaped nimbly into the lower branches. Her arms were
about his neck and from one little hand Geeka dangled down his
straight youngback.

And so Meriem entered the jungle with Korak, trusting, in
her childish innocence, the stranger who had befriended her,
and perhaps influenced in her belief in him by that strange
intuitive power possessed by woman. She had no conception of
what the future might hold. She did not know, nor could she
have guessed the manner of life led by her protector. Possibly she
pictured a distant village similar to that of The Sheik in which
lived other white men like the stranger. That she was to be
taken into the savage, primeval life of a jungle beast could
not have occurred to her. Had it, her little heart would have
palpitated with fear. Often had she wished to run away from the
cruelties of The Sheik and Mabunu; but the dangers of the jungle
always had deterred her.

The two had gone but a short distance from the village when
the girl spied the huge proportions of the great Akut. With a
half-stifled scream she clung more closely to Korak, and pointed
fearfully toward the ape.

Akut, thinking that The Killer was returning with a prisoner,
came growling toward them--a little girl aroused no more sympathy
in the beast's heart than would a full-grown bull ape. She was
a stranger and therefore to be killed. He bared his yellow
fangs as he approached, and to his surprise The Killer bared his
likewise, but he bared them at Akut, and snarled menacingly.

"Ah," thought Akut, "The Killer has taken a mate," and so,
obedient to the tribal laws of his kind, he left them alone,
becoming suddenly absorbed in a fuzzy caterpillar of peculiarly
succulent appearance. The larva disposed of, he glanced from
the corner of an eye at Korak. The youth had deposited his
burden upon a large limb, where she clung desperately to keep
from falling.

"She will accompany us," said Korak to Akut, jerking a thumb
in the direction of the girl. "Do not harm her. We will
protect her."

Akut shrugged. To be burdened by the young of man was in no
way to his liking. He could see from her evident fright at her
position on the branch, and from the terrified glances she cast
in his direction that she was hopelessly unfit. By all the ethics
of Akut's training and inheritance the unfit should be eliminated;
but if The Killer wished this there was nothing to be done about
it but to tolerate her. Akut certainly didn't want her--of that
he was quite positive. Her skin was too smooth and hairless.
Quite snake-like, in fact, and her face was most unattractive.
Not at all like that of a certain lovely she he had particularly
noticed among the apes in the amphitheater the previous night.
Ah, there was true feminine beauty for one!--a great, generous
mouth; lovely, yellow fangs, and the cutest, softest side whiskers!
Akut sighed. Then he rose, expanded his great chest and
strutted back and forth along a substantial branch, for even a
puny thing like this she of Korak's might admire his fine coat
and his graceful carriage.

But poor little Meriem only shrank closer to Korak and almost
wished that she were back in the village of The Sheik where
the terrors of existence were of human origin, and so more or
less familiar. The hideous ape frightened her. He was so large
and so ferocious in appearance. His actions she could only
interpret as a menace, for how could she guess that he was
parading to excite admiration? Nor could she know of the bond
of fellowship which existed between this great brute and the
godlike youth who had rescued her from the Sheik.

Meriem spent an evening and a night of unmitigated terror.
Korak and Akut led her along dizzy ways as they searched for food.
Once they hid her in the branches of a tree while they stalked
a near-by buck. Even her natural terror of being left alone in
the awful jungle was submerged in a greater horror as she saw the
man and the beast spring simultaneously upon their prey and drag
it down, as she saw the handsome face of her preserver contorted
in a bestial snarl; as she saw his strong, white teeth buried in
the soft flesh of the kill.

When he came back to her blood smeared his face and hands
and breast and she shrank from him as he offered her a huge
hunk of hot, raw meat. He was evidently much disturbed by her
refusal to eat, and when, a moment later, he scampered away
into the forest to return with fruit for her she was once more
forced to alter her estimation of him. This time she did not
shrink, but acknowledged his gift with a smile that, had she
known it, was more than ample payment to the affection starved boy.

The sleeping problem vexed Korak. He knew that the girl
could not balance herself in safety in a tree crotch while she
slept, nor would it be safe to permit her to sleep upon the ground
open to the attacks of prowling beasts of prey. There was but a
single solution that presented itself--he must hold her in his
arms all night. And that he did, with Akut braced upon one side
of her and he upon the other, so that she was warmed by the
bodies of them both.

She did not sleep much until the night was half spent; but at
last Nature overcame her terrors of the black abyss beneath and
the hairy body of the wild beast at her side, and she fell into a
deep slumber which outlasted the darkness. When she opened
her eyes the sun was well up. At first she could not believe in
the reality of her position. Her head had rolled from Korak's
shoulder so that her eyes were directed upon the hairy back of
the ape. At sight of it she shrank away. Then she realized
that someone was holding her, and turning her head she saw the
smiling eyes of the youth regarding her. When he smiled she
could not fear him, and now she shrank closer against him in
natural revulsion toward the rough coat of the brute upon her
other side.

Korak spoke to her in the language of the apes; but she shook
her head, and spoke to him in the language of the Arab, which
was as unintelligible to him as was ape speech to her. Akut sat
up and looked at them. He could understand what Korak said
but the girl made only foolish noises that were entirely
unintelligible and ridiculous. Akut could not understand what
Korak saw in her to attract him. He looked at her long and
steadily, appraising her carefully, then he scratched his head,
rose and shook himself.

His movement gave the girl a little start--she had forgotten
Akut for the moment. Again she shrank from him. The beast
saw that she feared him, and being a brute enjoyed the evidence
of the terror his brutishness inspired. Crouching, he extended his
huge hand stealthily toward her, as though to seize her. She shrank
still further away. Akut's eyes were busy drinking in the humor
of the situation--he did not see the narrowing eyes of the boy
upon him, nor the shortening neck as the broad shoulders rose
in a characteristic attitude of preparation for attack. As the
ape's fingers were about to close upon the girl's arm the youth rose
suddenly with a short, vicious growl. A clenched fist flew before
Meriem's eyes to land full upon the snout of the astonished Akut.
With an explosive bellow the anthropoid reeled backward and
tumbled from the tree.

Korak stood glaring down upon him when a sudden swish in the
bushes close by attracted his attention. The girl too was
looking down; but she saw nothing but the angry ape scrambling
to his feet. Then, like a bolt from a cross bow, a mass of spotted,
yellow fur shot into view straight for Akut's back. It was Sheeta,
the leopard.