Chapter 11

Son of Tarzan

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER 11, SON OF TARZAN by Edgar R. Burroughs
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Korak, returning from the hunt, heard the jabbering of the
excited monkeys. He knew that something was seriously amiss.
Histah, the snake, had doubtless coiled his slimy folds about
some careless Manu. The youth hastened ahead. The monkeys
were Meriem's friends. He would help them if he could.
He traveled rapidly along the middle terrace. In the tree
by Meriem's shelter he deposited his trophies of the hunt and
called aloud to her. There was no answer. He dropped quickly
to a lower level. She might be hiding from him.

Upon a great branch where Meriem often swung at indolent
ease he saw Geeka propped against the tree's great bole.
What could it mean? Meriem had never left Geeka thus alone before.
Korak picked up the doll and tucked it in his belt. He called
again, more loudly; but no Meriem answered his summons. In the
distance the jabbering of the excited Manus was growing
less distinct.

Could their excitement be in any way connected with
Meriem's disappearance? The bare thought was enough.
Without waiting for Akut who was coming slowly along some
distance in his rear, Korak swung rapidly in the direction
of the chattering mob. But a few minutes sufficed to overtake
the rearmost. At sight of him they fell to screaming and
pointing downward ahead of them, and a moment later Korak
came within sight of the cause of their rage.

The youth's heart stood still in terror as he saw the limp body
of the girl across the hairy shoulders of a great ape. That she
was dead he did not doubt, and in that instant there arose within
him a something which he did not try to interpret nor could have
hade he tried; but all at once the whole world seemed centered
in that tender, graceful body, that frail little body, hanging so
pitifully limp and helpless across the bulging shoulders of the brute.

He knew then that little Meriem was his world--his sun, his
moon, his stars--with her going had gone all light and warmth
and happiness. A groan escaped his lips, and after that a series
of hideous roars, more bestial than the beasts', as he dropped
plummet-like in mad descent toward the perpetrator of this hideous crime.

The bull ape turned at the first note of this new and menacing
voice, and as he turned a new flame was added to the rage and
hatred of The Killer, for he saw that the creature before him was
none other than the king ape which had driven him away from the
great anthropoids to whom he had looked for friendship and asylum.

Dropping the body of the girl to the ground the bull turned to
battle anew for possession of his expensive prize; but this time
he looked for an easy conquest. He too recognized Korak. Had he
not chased him away from the amphitheater without even having
to lay a fang or paw upon him? With lowered head and bulging
shoulders he rushed headlong for the smooth-skinned creature
who was daring to question his right to his prey.

They met head on like two charging bulls, to go down together
tearing and striking. Korak forgot his knife. Rage and bloodlust
such as his could be satisfied only by the feel of hot flesh
between rending fangs, by the gush of new life blood against his
bare skin, for, though he did not realize it, Korak, The Killer,
was fighting for something more compelling than hate or revenge--
he was a great male fighting another male for a she of his own kind.

So impetuous was the attack of the man-ape that he found his
hold before the anthropoid could prevent him--a savage hold,
with strong jaws closed upon a pulsing jugular, and there he
clung, with closed eyes, while his fingers sought another hold
upon the shaggy throat.

It was then that Meriem opened her eyes. At the sight before
her they went wide.

"Korak!" she cried. "Korak! My Korak! I knew that you
would come. Kill him, Korak! Kill him!" And with flashing
eyes and heaving bosom the girl, coming to her feet, ran to
Korak's side to encourage him. Nearby lay The Killer's spear,
where he had flung it as he charged the ape. The girl saw it and
snatched it up. No faintness overcame her in the face of this
battle primeval at her feet. For her there was no hysterical
reaction from the nerve strain of her own personal encounter with
the bull. She was excited; but cool and entirely unafraid.
Her Korak was battling with another Mangani that would have stolen
her; but she did not seek the safety of an overhanging bough
there to watch the battle from afar, as would a she Mangani.
Instead she placed the point of Korak's spear against the bull
ape's side and plunged the sharp point deep into the savage heart.
Korak had not needed her aid, for the great bull had been already
as good as dead, with the blood gushing from his torn jugular;
but Korak rose smiling with a word of approbation for his helper.

How tall and fine she was! Had she changed suddenly within
the few hours of his absence, or had his battle with the ape
affected his vision? He might have been looking at Meriem
through new eyes for the many startling and wonderful surprises
his gaze revealed. How long it had been since he had found her
in her father's village, a little Arab girl, he did not know, for
time is of no import in the jungle and so he had kept no track
of the passing days. But he realized, as he looked upon her now,
that she was no longer such a little girl as he had first seen
playing with Geeka beneath the great tree just within the palisade.
The change must have been very gradual to have eluded his notice
until now. And what was it that had caused him to realize it
so suddenly? His gaze wandered from the girl to the body of
the dead bull. For the first time there flashed to his
understanding the explanation of the reason for the girl's
attempted abduction. Korak's eyes went wide and then they closed
to narrow slits of rage as he stood glaring down upon the abysmal
brute at his feet. When next his glance rose to Meriem's face
a slow flush suffused his own. Now, indeed, was he looking
upon her through new eyes--the eyes of a man looking upon a maid.

Akut had come up just as Meriem had speared Korak's antagonist.
The exultation of the old ape was keen. He strutted, stiff-legged
and truculent about the body of the fallen enemy. He growled
and upcurved his long, flexible lip. His hair bristled.
He was paying no attention to Meriem and Korak. Back in the
uttermost recesses of his little brain something was stirring--
something which the sight and smell of the great bull had aroused.
The outward manifestation of the germinating idea was one of
bestial rage; but the inner sensations were pleasurable in
the extreme. The scent of the great bull and the sight of his huge
and hairy figure had wakened in the heart of Akut a longing for
the companionship of his own kind. So Korak was not alone
undergoing a change.

And Meriem? She was a woman. It is woman's divine right
to love. Always she had loved Korak. He was her big brother.
Meriem alone underwent no change. She was still happy in the
companionship of her Korak. She still loved him--as a sister
loves an indulgent brother--and she was very, very proud of him.
In all the jungle there was no other creature so strong, so
handsome, or so brave.

Korak came close to her. There was a new light in his eyes
as she looked up into them; but she did not understand it.
She did not realize how close they were to maturity, nor aught of
all the difference in their lives the look in Korak's eyes might mean.

"Meriem," he whispered and his voice was husky as he laid
a brown hand upon her bare shoulder. "Meriem!" Suddenly he
crushed her to him. She looked up into his face, laughing,
and then he bent and kissed her full upon the mouth. Even then
she did not understand. She did not recall ever having been
kissed before. It was very nice. Meriem liked it. She thought
it was Korak's way of showing how glad he was that the great ape
had not succeeded in running away with her. She was glad too,
so she put her arms about The Killer's neck and kissed him again
and again. Then, discovering the doll in his belt she transferred
it to her own possession, kissing it as she had kissed Korak.

Korak wanted her to say something. He wanted to tell her how
he loved her; but the emotion of his love choked him and the
vocabulary of the Mangani was limited.

There came a sudden interruption. It was from Akut--a sudden,
low growl, no louder than those he had been giving vent to the
while he pranced about the dead bull, nor half so loud in fact;
but of a timbre that bore straight to the perceptive faculties
of the jungle beast ingrained in Korak. It was a warning. Korak
looked quickly up from the glorious vision of the sweet face so
close to his. Now his other faculties awoke. His ears, his nostrils
were on the alert. Something was coming!

The Killer moved to Akut's side. Meriem was just behind them.
The three stood like carved statues gazing into the leafy
tangle of the jungle. The noise that had attracted their attention
increased, and presently a great ape broke through the underbrush
a few paces from where they stood. The beast halted at sight
of them. He gave a warning grunt back over his shoulder,
and a moment later coming cautiously another bull appeared.
He was followed by others--both bulls and females with young,
until two score hairy monsters stood glaring at the three. It was
the tribe of the dead king ape. Akut was the first to speak.
He pointed to the body of the dead bull.

"Korak, mighty fighter, has killed your king," he grunted.
"There is none greater in all the jungle than Korak, son of Tarzan.
Now Korak is king. What bull is greater than Korak?" It was a
challenge to any bull who might care to question Korak's right to
the kingship. The apes jabbered and chattered and growled among
themselves for a time. At last a young bull came slowly forward
rocking upon his short legs, bristling, growling, terrible.

The beast was enormous, and in the full prime of his strength.
He belonged to that almost extinct species for which white men
have long sought upon the information of the natives of the more
inaccessible jungles. Even the natives seldom see these great,
hairy, primordial men.

Korak advanced to meet the monster. He, too, was growling.
In his mind a plan was revolving. To close with this powerful,
untired brute after having just passed through a terrific battle
with another of his kind would have been to tempt defeat. He must
find an easier way to victory. Crouching, he prepared to meet
the charge which he knew would soon come, nor did he have long
to wait. His antagonist paused only for sufficient time to
permit him to recount for the edification of the audience and the
confounding of Korak a brief resume of his former victories, of
his prowess, and of what he was about to do to this puny Tarmangani.
Then he charged.

With clutching fingers and wide opened jaws he came down
upon the waiting Korak with the speed of an express train.
Korak did not move until the great arms swung to embrace him,
then he dropped low beneath them, swung a terrific right to the
side of the beast's jaw as he side-stepped his rushing body, and
swinging quickly about stood ready over the fallen ape where
he sprawled upon the ground.

It was a surprised anthropoid that attempted to scramble to
its feet. Froth flecked its hideous lips. Red were the little eyes.
Blood curdling roars tumbled from the deep chest. But it did
not reach its feet. The Killer stood waiting above it, and the
moment that the hairy chin came upon the proper level another
blow that would have felled an ox sent the ape over backward.

Again and again the beast struggled to arise, but each time
the mighty Tarmangani stood waiting with ready fist and pile
driver blow to bowl him over. Weaker and weaker became the
efforts of the bull. Blood smeared his face and breast. A red
stream trickled from nose and mouth. The crowd that had cheered
him on at first with savage yells, now jeered him--their
approbation was for the Tarmangani.

"Kagoda?" inquired Korak, as he sent the bull down once more.

Again the stubborn bull essayed to scramble to his feet.
Again The Killer struck him a terrific blow. Again he put
the question, kagoda--have you had enough?

For a moment the bull lay motionless. Then from between
battered lips came the single word: "Kagoda!"

"Then rise and go back among your people," said Korak.
"I do not wish to be king among people who once drove me
from them. Keep your own ways, and we will keep ours.
When we meet we may be friends, but we shall not live together."

An old bull came slowly toward The Killer.

"You have killed our king," he said. "You have defeated him
who would have been king. You could have killed him had
you wished. What shall we do for a king?"

Korak turned toward Akut.

"There is your king," he said. But Akut did not want to be
separated from Korak, although he was anxious enough to remain
with his own kind. He wanted Korak to remain, too. He said as much.

The youth was thinking of Meriem--of what would be best and
safest for her. If Akut went away with the apes there would
be but one to watch over and protect her. On the other hand
were they to join the tribe he would never feel safe to leave
Meriem behind when he went out to hunt, for the passions of
the ape-folk are not ever well controlled. Even a female might
develop an insane hatred for the slender white girl and kill her
during Korak's absence.

"We will live near you," he said, at last. "When you change
your hunting ground we will change ours, Meriem and I, and
so remain near you; but we shall not dwell among you."

Akut raised objections to this plan. He did not wish to be
separated from Korak. At first he refused to leave his human
friend for the companionship of his own kind; but when he saw
the last of the tribe wandering off into the jungle again and his
glance rested upon the lithe figure of the dead king's young mate
as she cast admiring glances at her lord's successor the call of
blood would not be denied. With a farewell glance toward his
beloved Korak he turned and followed the she ape into the
labyrinthine mazes of the wood.


After Korak had left the village of the blacks following his
last thieving expedition, the screams of his victim and those of
the other women and children had brought the warriors in from
the forest and the river. Great was the excitement and hot
was the rage of the men when they learned that the white devil
had again entered their homes, frightened their women and
stolen arrows and ornaments and food.

Even their superstitious fear of this weird creature who hunted
with a huge bull ape was overcome in their desire to wreak
vengeance upon him and rid themselves for good and all of the
menace of his presence in the jungle.

And so it was that a score of the fleetest and most doughty
warriors of the tribe set out in pursuit of Korak and Akut but
a few minutes after they had left the scene of The Killer's
many depredations.

The youth and the ape had traveled slowly and with no precautions
against a successful pursuit. Nor was their attitude of
careless indifference to the blacks at all remarkable. So many
similar raids had gone unpunished that the two had come to look
upon the Negroes with contempt. The return journey led them
straight up wind. The result being that the scent of their pursuers
was borne away from them, so they proceeded upon their way
in total ignorance of the fact that tireless trackers but
little less expert in the mysteries of woodcraft than themselves
were dogging their trail with savage insistence.

The little party of warriors was led by Kovudoo, the chief; a
middle-aged savage of exceptional cunning and bravery. It was
he who first came within sight of the quarry which they had
followed for hours by the mysterious methods of their almost
uncanny powers of observation, intuition, and even scent.

Kovudoo and his men came upon Korak, Akut and Meriem after
the killing of the king ape, the noise of the combat having
led them at last straight to their quarry. The sight of the
slender white girl had amazed the savage chief and held him
gazing at the trio for a moment before ordering his warriors to
rush out upon their prey. In that moment it was that the great
apes came and again the blacks remained awestruck witnesses to
the palaver, and the battle between Korak and the young bull.

But now the apes had gone, and the white youth and the white
maid stood alone in the jungle. One of Kovudoo's men leaned
close to the ear of his chief. "Look!" he whispered, and pointed
to something that dangled at the girl's side. "When my brother
and I were slaves in the village of The Sheik my brother made
that thing for The Sheik's little daughter--she played with it
always and called it after my brother, whose name is Geeka.
Just before we escaped some one came and struck down The
Sheik, stealing his daughter away. If this is she The Sheik
will pay you well for her return."

Korak's arm had again gone around the shoulders of Meriem.
Love raced hot through his young veins. Civilization was but
a half-remembered state--London as remote as ancient Rome.
In all the world there were but they two--Korak, The Killer, and
Meriem, his mate. Again he drew her close to him and covered
her willing lips with his hot kisses. And then from behind him
broke a hideous bedlam of savage war cries and a score of
shrieking blacks were upon them.

Korak turned to give battle. Meriem with her own light spear
stood by his side. An avalanche of barbed missiles flew
about them. One pierced Korak's shoulder, another his leg,
and he went down.

Meriem was unscathed for the blacks had intentionally spared her.
Now they rushed forward to finish Korak and made good the girl's
capture; but as they came there came also from another point in
the jungle the great Akut and at his heels the huge bulls of his
new kingdom.

Snarling and roaring they rushed upon the black warriors when
they saw the mischief they had already wrought. Kovudoo, realizing
the danger of coming to close quarters with these mighty
ape-men, seized Meriem and called upon his warriors to retreat.
For a time the apes followed them, and several of the blacks
were badly mauled and one killed before they succeeded in escaping.
Nor would they have gotten off thus easily had Akut not
been more concerned with the condition of the wounded Korak
than with the fate of the girl upon whom he had always looked
as more or less of an interloper and an unquestioned burden.

Korak lay bleeding and unconscious when Akut reached his side.
The great ape tore the heavy spears from his flesh, licked
the wounds and then carried his friend to the lofty shelter that
Korak had constructed for Meriem. Further than this the brute
could do nothing. Nature must accomplish the rest unaided or
Korak must die.

He did not die, however. For days he lay helpless with fever,
while Akut and the apes hunted close by that they might protect
him from such birds and beasts as might reach his lofty retreat.
Occasionally Akut brought him juicy fruits which helped to slake
his thirst and allay his fever, and little by little his powerful
constitution overcame the effects of the spear thrusts. The wounds
healed and his strength returned. All during his rational
moments as he had lain upon the soft furs which lined Meriem's
nest he had suffered more acutely from fears for Meriem than
from the pain of his own wounds. For her he must live. For her
he must regain his strength that he might set out in search of her.
What had the blacks done to her? Did she still live, or had
they sacrificed her to their lust for torture and human flesh?
Korak almost trembled with terror as the most hideous possibilities
of the girl's fate suggested themselves to him out of his
knowledge of the customs of Kovudoo's tribe.

The days dragged their weary lengths along, but at last he had
sufficiently regained his strength to crawl from the shelter and
make his way unaided to the ground. Now he lived more upon
raw meat, for which he was entirely dependent on Akut's skill
and generosity. With the meat diet his strength returned more
rapidly, and at last he felt that he was fit to undertake the
journey to the village of the blacks.