Chapter 14

Son of Tarzan

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER 14, SON OF TARZAN by Edgar R. Burroughs
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With wide eyes fixed upon him, like a trapped creature
horrified beneath the mesmeric gaze of a great serpent,
the girl watched the approach of the man. Her hands were free,
the Swedes having secured her with a length of ancient slave
chain fastened at one end to an iron collar padlocked about her
neck and at the other to a long stake driven deep into the ground.

Slowly Meriem shrank inch by inch toward the opposite end of
the tent. Malbihn followed her. His hands were extended and
his fingers half-opened--claw-like--to seize her. His lips were
parted, and his breath came quickly, pantingly.

The girl recalled Jenssen's instructions to call him should
Malbihn molest her; but Jenssen had gone into the jungle to hunt.
Malbihn had chosen his time well. Yet she screamed, loud and
shrill, once, twice, a third time, before Malbihn could leap
across the tent and throttle her alarming cries with his
brute fingers. Then she fought him, as any jungle she might fight,
with tooth and nail. The man found her no easy prey. In that
slender, young body, beneath the rounded curves and the fine,
soft skin, lay the muscles of a young lioness. But Malbihn was
no weakling. His character and appearance were brutal, nor did
they belie his brawn. He was of giant stature and of giant strength.
Slowly he forced the girl back upon the ground, striking her in
the face when she hurt him badly either with teeth or nails.
Meriem struck back, but she was growing weaker from the choking
fingers at her throat.

Out in the jungle Jenssen had brought down two bucks. His hunting
had not carried him far afield, nor was he prone to permit it to
do so. He was suspicious of Malbihn. The very fact that his
companion had refused to accompany him and elected instead to hunt
alone in another direction would not, under ordinary circumstances,
have seemed fraught with sinister suggestion; but Jenssen knew
Malbihn well, and so, having secured meat, he turned immediately
back toward camp, while his boys brought in his kill.

He had covered about half the return journey when a scream
came faintly to his ears from the direction of camp. He halted
to listen. It was repeated twice. Then silence. With a muttered
curse Jenssen broke into a rapid run. He wondered if he would
be too late. What a fool Malbihn was indeed to thus chance
jeopardizing a fortune!

Further away from camp than Jenssen and upon the opposite
side another heard Meriem's screams--a stranger who was not
even aware of the proximity of white men other than himself--
a hunter with a handful of sleek, black warriors. He, too,
listened intently for a moment. That the voice was that of a woman
in distress he could not doubt, and so he also hastened at a run
in the direction of the affrighted voice; but he was much further
away than Jenssen so that the latter reached the tent first.
What the Swede found there roused no pity within his calloused heart,
only anger against his fellow scoundrel. Meriem was still fighting
off her attacker. Malbihn still was showering blows upon her.
Jenssen, streaming foul curses upon his erstwhile friend,
burst into the tent. Malbihn, interrupted, dropped his victim
and turned to meet Jenssen's infuriated charge. He whipped a
revolver from his hip. Jenssen, anticipating the lightning move
of the other's hand, drew almost simultaneously, and both men
fired at once. Jenssen was still moving toward Malbihn at the
time, but at the flash of the explosion he stopped. His revolver
dropped from nerveless fingers. For a moment he staggered drunkenly.
Deliberately Malbihn put two more bullets into his friend's body
at close range. Even in the midst of the excitement and her
terror Meriem found herself wondering at the tenacity of life
which the hit man displayed. His eyes were closed, his head
dropped forward upon his breast, his hands hung limply before him.
Yet still he stood there upon his feet, though he reeled horribly.
It was not until the third bullet had found its mark within his
body that he lunged forward upon his face. Then Malbihn
approached him, and with an oath kicked him viciously. Then he
returned once more to Meriem. Again he seized her, and at the
same instant the flaps of the tent opened silently and a tall
white man stood in the aperture. Neither Meriem or Malbihn
saw the newcomer. The latter's back was toward him while his
body hid the stranger from Meriem's eyes.

He crossed the tent quickly, stepping over Jenssen's body.
The first intimation Malbihn had that he was not to carry out
his design without further interruption was a heavy hand upon
his shoulder. He wheeled to face an utter stranger--a tall,
black-haired, gray-eyed stranger clad in khaki and pith helmet.
Malbihn reached for his gun again, but another hand had been
quicker than his and he saw the weapon tossed to the ground at
the side of the tent--out of reach.

"What is the meaning of this?" the stranger addressed his
question to Meriem in a tongue she did not understand. She shook
her head and spoke in Arabic. Instantly the man changed his
question to that language.

"These men are taking me away from Korak," explained the girl.
"This one would have harmed me. The other, whom he had just
killed, tried to stop him. They were both very bad men; but
this one is the worse. If my Korak were here he would kill him.
I suppose you are like them, so you will not kill him."

The stranger smiled. "He deserves killing?" he said. "There is
no doubt of that. Once I should have killed him; but not now.
I will see, though, that he does not bother you any more."

He was holding Malbihn in a grasp the giant Swede could not
break, though he struggled to do so, and he was holding him as
easily as Malbihn might have held a little child, yet Malbihn was
a huge man, mightily thewed. The Swede began to rage and curse.
He struck at his captor, only to be twisted about and held at
arm's length. Then he shouted to his boys to come and kill
the stranger. In response a dozen strange blacks entered the tent.
They, too, were powerful, clean-limbed men, not at all like the
mangy crew that followed the Swedes.

"We have had enough foolishness," said the stranger to Malbihn.
"You deserve death, but I am not the law. I know now who
you are. I have heard of you before. You and your friend
here bear a most unsavory reputation. We do not want you in
our country. I shall let you go this time; but should you ever
return I shall take the law into my own hands. You understand?"

Malbihn blustered and threatened, finishing by applying a
most uncomplimentary name to his captor. For this he received
a shaking that rattled his teeth. Those who know say that the
most painful punishment that can be inflicted upon an adult
male, short of injuring him, is a good, old fashioned shaking.
Malbihn received such a shaking.

"Now get out," said the stranger, "and next time you see me
remember who I am," and he spoke a name in the Swede's
ear--a name that more effectually subdued the scoundrel than
many beatings--then he gave him a push that carried him bodily
through the tent doorway to sprawl upon the turf beyond.

"Now," he said, turning toward Meriem, "who has the key
to this thing about your neck?"

The girl pointed to Jenssen's body. "He carried it always,"
she said.

The stranger searched the clothing on the corpse until he came
upon the key. A moment more Meriem was free.

"Will you let me go back to my Korak?" she asked.

"I will see that you are returned to your people," he replied.
"Who are they and where is their village?"

He had been eyeing her strange, barbaric garmenture wonderingly.
From her speech she was evidently an Arab girl; but he had
never before seen one thus clothed.

"Who are your people? Who is Korak?" he asked again.

"Korak! Why Korak is an ape. I have no other people. Korak and
I live in the jungle alone since A'ht went to be king of the apes."
She had always thus pronounced Akut's name, for so it had sounded
to her when first she came with Korak and the ape. "Korak could
have been kind, but he would not."

A questioning expression entered the stranger's eyes. He looked
at the girl closely.

"So Korak is an ape?" he said. "And what, pray, are you?"

"I am Meriem. I, also, am an ape."

"M-m," was the stranger's only oral comment upon this startling
announcement; but what he thought might have been partially
interpreted through the pitying light that entered his eyes.
He approached the girl and started to lay his hand upon
her forehead. She drew back with a savage little growl.
A smile touched his lips.

"You need not fear me," he said. "I shall not harm you. I only
wish to discover if you have fever--if you are entirely well.
If you are we will set forth in search of Korak."

Meriem looked straight into the keen gray eyes. She must
have found there an unquestionable assurance of the honorableness
of their owner, for she permitted him to lay his palm upon her
forehead and feel her pulse. Apparently she had no fever.

"How long have you been an ape?" asked the man.

"Since I was a little girl, many, many years ago, and Korak
came and took me from my father who was beating me. Since then
I have lived in the trees with Korak and A'ht."

"Where in the jungle lives Korak?" asked the stranger.

Meriem pointed with a sweep of her hand that took in, generously,
half the continent of Africa.

"Could you find your way back to him?"

"I do not know," she replied; "but he will find his way to me."

"Then I have a plan," said the stranger. "I live but a few
marches from here. I shall take you home where my wife will
look after you and care for you until we can find Korak or Korak
finds us. If he could find you here he can find you at my village.
Is it not so?"

Meriem thought that it was so; but she did not like the idea
of not starting immediately back to meet Korak. On the other
hand the man had no intention of permitting this poor, insane
child to wander further amidst the dangers of the jungle.
From whence she had come, or what she had undergone he could not
guess, but that her Korak and their life among the apes was but
a figment of a disordered mind he could not doubt. He knew
the jungle well, and he knew that men have lived alone and
naked among the savage beasts for years; but a frail and
slender girl! No, it was not possible.

Together they went outside. Malbihn's boys were striking camp
in preparation for a hasty departure. The stranger's blacks
were conversing with them. Malbihn stood at a distance, angry
and glowering. The stranger approached one of his own men.

"Find out where they got this girl," he commanded.

The Negro thus addressed questioned one of Malbihn's followers.
Presently he returned to his master.

"They bought her from old Kovudoo," he said. "That is all that
this fellow will tell me. He pretends that he knows nothing
more, and I guess that he does not. These two white men were
very bad men. They did many things that their boys knew not
the meanings of. It would be well, Bwana, to kill the other."

"I wish that I might; but a new law is come into this part
of the jungle. It is not as it was in the old days, Muviri,"
replied the master.

The stranger remained until Malbihn and his safari had
disappeared into the jungle toward the north. Meriem, trustful
now, stood at his side, Geeka clutched in one slim, brown hand.
They talked together, the man wondering at the faltering Arabic
of the girl, but attributing it finally to her defective mentality.
Could he have known that years had elapsed since she had used it
until she was taken by the Swedes he would not have wondered that
she had half forgotten it. There was yet another reason why the
language of The Sheik had thus readily eluded her; but of that
reason she herself could not have guessed the truth any better
than could the man.

He tried to persuade her to return with him to his "village"
as he called it, or douar, in Arabic; but she was insistent upon
searching immediately for Korak. As a last resort he determined
to take her with him by force rather than sacrifice her life to the
insane hallucination which haunted her; but, being a wise man,
he determined to humor her first and then attempt to lead her as
he would have her go. So when they took up their march it was
in the direction of the south, though his own ranch lay almost
due east.

By degrees he turned the direction of their way more and more
eastward, and greatly was he pleased to note that the girl failed
to discover that any change was being made. Little by little she
became more trusting. At first she had had but her intuition to
guide her belief that this big Tarmangani meant her no harm, but
as the days passed and she saw that his kindness and consideration
never faltered she came to compare him with Korak, and to be very
fond of him; but never did her loyalty to her apeman flag.

On the fifth day they came suddenly upon a great plain and
from the edge of the forest the girl saw in the distance fenced
fields and many buildings. At the sight she drew back in astonishment.

"Where are we?" she asked, pointing.

"We could not find Korak," replied the man, "and as our way led
near my douar I have brought you here to wait and rest
with my wife until my men can find your ape, or he finds you.
It is better thus, little one. You will be safer with us, and
you will be happier."

"I am afraid, Bwana," said the girl. "In thy douar they
will beat me as did The Sheik, my father. Let me go back into
the jungle. There Korak will find me. He would not think to look
for me in the douar of a white man."

"No one will beat you, child," replied the man. "I have not
done so, have I? Well, here all belong to me. They will treat
you well. Here no one is beaten. My wife will be very good to
you, and at last Korak will come, for I shall send men to search
for him."

The girl shook her head. "They could not bring him, for he
would kill them, as all men have tried to kill him. I am afraid.
Let me go, Bwana."

"You do not know the way to your own country. You would
be lost. The leopards or the lions would get you the first night,
and after all you would not find your Korak. It is better that you
stay with us. Did I not save you from the bad man? Do you not
owe me something for that? Well, then remain with us for a few
weeks at least until we can determine what is best for you.
You are only a little girl--it would be wicked to permit you to
go alone into the jungle."

Meriem laughed. "The jungle," she said, "is my father and
my mother. It has been kinder to me than have men. I am not
afraid of the jungle. Nor am I afraid of the leopard or the lion.
When my time comes I shall die. It may be that a leopard or a
lion shall kill me, or it may be a tiny bug no bigger than the end
of my littlest finger. When the lion leaps upon me, or the little
bug stings me I shall be afraid--oh, then I shall be terribly
afraid, I know; but life would be very miserable indeed were I
to spend it in terror of the thing that has not yet happened. If it
be the lion my terror shall be short of life; but if it be the little
bug I may suffer for days before I die. And so I fear the lion
least of all. He is great and noisy. I can hear him, or see him,
or smell him in time to escape; but any moment I may place a
hand or foot on the little bug, and never know that he is there
until I feel his deadly sting. No, I do not fear the jungle.
I love it. I should rather die than leave it forever; but your
douar is close beside the jungle. You have been good to me.
I will do as you wish, and remain here for a while to wait the
coming of my Korak."

"Good!" said the man, and he led the way down toward the
flower-covered bungalow behind which lay the barns and out-
houses of a well-ordered African farm.

As they came nearer a dozen dogs ran barking toward them--
gaunt wolf hounds, a huge great Dane, a nimble-footed collie
and a number of yapping, quarrelsome fox terriers. At first
their appearance was savage and unfriendly in the extreme; but
once they recognized the foremost black warriors, and the white
man behind them their attitude underwent a remarkable change.
The collie and the fox terriers became frantic with delirious
joy, and while the wolf hounds and the great Dane were not a whit
less delighted at the return of their master their greetings were
of a more dignified nature. Each in turn sniffed at Meriem who
displayed not the slightest fear of any of them.

The wolf hounds bristled and growled at the scent of wild
beasts that clung to her garment; but when she laid her hand
upon their heads and her soft voice murmured caressingly they
half-closed their eyes, lifting their upper lips in contented
canine smiles. The man was watching them and he too smiled, for it
was seldom that these savage brutes took thus kindly to strangers.
It was as though in some subtile way the girl had breathed a
message of kindred savagery to their savage hearts.

With her slim fingers grasping the collar of a wolf hound upon
either side of her Meriem walked on toward the bungalow upon
the porch of which a woman dressed in white waved a welcome
to her returning lord. There was more fear in the girl's eyes now
than there had been in the presence of strange men or savage beasts.
She hesitated, turning an appealing glance toward the man.

"This is my wife," he said. "She will be glad to welcome you."

The woman came down the path to meet them. The man kissed her,
and turning toward Meriem introduced them, speaking in the Arab
tongue the girl understood.

"This is Meriem, my dear," he said, and he told the story of
the jungle waif in so far as he knew it.

Meriem saw that the woman was beautiful. She saw that sweetness
and goodness were stamped indelibly upon her countenance. She no
longer feared her, and when her brief story had been narrated and
the woman came and put her arms about her and kissed her and called
her "poor little darling" something snapped in Meriem's little heart.
She buried her face on the bosom of this new friend in whose voice
was the mother tone that Meriem had not heard for so many years
that she had forgotten its very existence. She buried her face
on the kindly bosom and wept as she had not wept before in all her
life--tears of relief and joy that she could not fathom.

And so came Meriem, the savage little Mangani, out of her beloved
jungle into the midst of a home of culture and refinement.
Already "Bwana" and "My Dear," as she first heard them called
and continued to call them, were as father and mother to her.
Once her savage fears allayed, she went to the opposite extreme
of trustfulness and love. Now she was willing to wait here until
they found Korak, or Korak found her. She did not give up that
thought--Korak, her Korak always was first.