Chapter 21

Son of Tarzan

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER 21, SON OF TARZAN by Edgar R. Burroughs
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The black boy whom Malbihn had left awaiting him in the
clearing with instructions to remain until he returned sat
crouched at the foot of a tree for an hour when he was suddenly
startled by the coughing grunt of a lion behind him. With celerity
born of the fear of death the boy clambered into the branches
of the tree, and a moment later the king of beasts entered the
clearing and approached the carcass of an antelope which, until
now, the boy had not seen.

Until daylight the beast fed, while the black clung, sleepless,
to his perch, wondering what had become of his master and the
two ponies. He had been with Malbihn for a year, and so was
fairly conversant with the character of the white. His knowledge
presently led him to believe that he had been purposely abandoned.
Like the balance of Malbihn's followers, this boy hated his master
cordially--fear being the only bond that held him to the white man.
His present uncomfortable predicament but added fuel to the fires
of his hatred.

As the sun rose the lion withdrew into the jungle and the black
descended from his tree and started upon his long journey back
to camp. In his primitive brain revolved various fiendish plans
for a revenge that he would not have the courage to put into
effect when the test came and he stood face to face with one of
the dominant race.

A mile from the clearing he came upon the spoor of two ponies
crossing his path at right angles. A cunning look entered the
black's eyes. He laughed uproariously and slapped his thighs.

Negroes are tireless gossipers, which, of course, is but a
roundabout way of saying that they are human. Malbihn's boys
had been no exception to the rule and as many of them had been
with him at various times during the past ten years there was
little about his acts and life in the African wilds that was not
known directly or by hearsay to them all.

And so, knowing his master and many of his past deeds, knowing,
too, a great deal about the plans of Malbihn and Baynes that had
been overheard by himself, or other servants; and knowing well
from the gossip of the head-men that half of Malbihn's party lay
in camp by the great river far to the west, it was not difficult
for the boy to put two and two together and arrive at four as the
sum--the four being represented by a firm conviction that his
master had deceived the other white man and taken the latter's
woman to his western camp, leaving the other to suffer capture
and punishment at the hands of the Big Bwana whom all feared.
Again the boy bared his rows of big, white teeth and laughed aloud.
Then he resumed his northward way, traveling at a dogged trot that
ate up the miles with marvelous rapidity.

In the Swede's camp the Hon. Morison had spent an almost
sleepless night of nervous apprehension and doubts and fears.
Toward morning he had slept, utterly exhausted. It was the
headman who awoke him shortly after sun rise to remind him that
they must at once take up their northward journey. Baynes hung back.
He wanted to wait for "Hanson" and Meriem. The headman urged
upon him the danger that lay in loitering. The fellow knew his
master's plans sufficiently well to understand that he had done
something to arouse the ire of the Big Bwana and that it would
fare ill with them all if they were overtaken in Big Bwana's country.
At the suggestion Baynes took alarm.

What if the Big Bwana, as the head-man called him, had
surprised "Hanson" in his nefarious work. Would he not guess
the truth and possibly be already on the march to overtake and
punish him? Baynes had heard much of his host's summary
method of dealing out punishment to malefactors great and
small who transgressed the laws or customs of his savage little
world which lay beyond the outer ramparts of what men are
pleased to call frontiers. In this savage world where there was
no law the Big Bwana was law unto himself and all who dwelt
about him. It was even rumored that he had extracted the death
penalty from a white man who had maltreated a native girl.

Baynes shuddered at the recollection of this piece of gossip
as he wondered what his host would exact of the man who had
attempted to steal his young, white ward. The thought brought
him to his feet.

"Yes," he said, nervously, "we must get away from here at once.
Do you know the trail to the north?"

The head-man did, and he lost no time in getting the safari
upon the march.

It was noon when a tired and sweat-covered runner overtook
the trudging little column. The man was greeted with shouts of
welcome from his fellows, to whom he imparted all that he knew
and guessed of the actions of their master, so that the entire
safari was aware of matters before Baynes, who marched close
to the head of the column, was reached and acquainted with the
facts and the imaginings of the black boy whom Malbihn had
deserted in the clearing the night before.

When the Hon. Morison had listened to all that the boy had
to say and realized that the trader had used him as a tool whereby
he himself might get Meriem into his possession, his blood ran hot
with rage and he trembled with apprehension for the girl's safety.

That another contemplated no worse a deed than he had contemplated
in no way palliated the hideousness of the other's offense.
At first it did not occur to him that he would have wronged
Meriem no less than he believed "Hanson" contemplated wronging her.
Now his rage was more the rage of a man beaten at his own game
and robbed of the prize that he had thought already his.

"Do you know where your master has gone?" he asked the black.

"Yes, Bwana," replied the boy. "He has gone to the other camp
beside the big afi that flows far toward the setting sun.

"Can you take me to him?" demanded Baynes.

The boy nodded affirmatively. Here he saw a method of revenging
himself upon his hated Bwana and at the same time of escaping
the wrath of the Big Bwana whom all were positive would first
follow after the northerly safari.

"Can you and I, alone, reach his camp?" asked the Hon. Morison.

"Yes, Bwana," assured the black.

Baynes turned toward the head-man. He was conversant with
"Hanson's" plans now. He understood why he had wished to
move the northern camp as far as possible toward the northern
boundary of the Big Bwana's country--it would give him far
more time to make his escape toward the West Coast while the
Big Bwana was chasing the northern contingent. Well, he would
utilize the man's plans to his own end. He, too, must keep out
of the clutches of his host.

"You may take the men north as fast as possible," he said to
the head-man. "I shall return and attempt to lead the Big Bwana
to the west."

The Negro assented with a grunt. He had no desire to follow
this strange white man who was afraid at night; he had less to
remain at the tender mercies of the Big Bwana's lusty warriors,
between whom and his people there was long-standing blood
feud; and he was more than delighted, into the bargain, for a
legitimate excuse for deserting his much hated Swede master.
He knew a way to the north and his own country that the white
men did not know--a short cut across an arid plateau where lay
water holes of which the white hunters and explorers that had
passed from time to time the fringe of the dry country had
never dreamed. He might even elude the Big Bwana should he follow
them, and with this thought uppermost in his mind he gathered
the remnants of Malbihn's safari into a semblance of order and
moved off toward the north. And toward the southwest the black
boy led the Hon. Morison Baynes into the jungles.

Korak had waited about the camp, watching the Hon. Morison
until the safari had started north. Then, assured that the
young Englishman was going in the wrong direction to meet
Meriem he had abandoned him and returned slowly to the point
where he had seen the girl, for whom his heart yearned, in the
arms of another.

So great had been his happiness at seeing Meriem alive that,
for the instant, no thought of jealousy had entered his mind.
Later these thoughts had come--dark, bloody thoughts that
would have made the flesh of the Hon. Morison creep could he
have guessed that they were revolving in the brain of a savage
creature creeping stealthily among the branches of the forest
giant beneath which he waited the coming of "Hanson" and the girl.

And with passing of the hours had come subdued reflection
in which he had weighed himself against the trimly clad English
gentleman and--found that he was wanting. What had he to offer
her by comparison with that which the other man might offer?
What was his "mess of pottage" to the birthright that the other
had preserved? How could he dare go, naked and unkempt, to that
fair thing who had once been his jungle-fellow and propose the
thing that had been in his mind when first the realization of his
love had swept over him? He shuddered as he thought of the
irreparable wrong that his love would have done the innocent
child but for the chance that had snatched her from him before
it was too late. Doubtless she knew now the horror that had
been in his mind. Doubtless she hated and loathed him as he
hated and loathed himself when he let his mind dwell upon it.
He had lost her. No more surely had she been lost when he
thought her dead than she was in reality now that he had seen
her living--living in the guise of a refinement that had
transfigured and sanctified her.

He had loved her before, now he worshipped her. He knew
that he might never possess her now, but at least he might
see her. From a distance he might look upon her. Perhaps he
might serve her; but never must she guess that he had found her
or that he lived.

He wondered if she ever thought of him--if the happy days
that they had spent together never recurred to her mind.
It seemed unbelievable that such could be the case, and yet,
too, it seemed almost equally unbelievable that this beautiful
girl was the same disheveled, half naked, little sprite who
skipped nimbly among the branches of the trees as they ran and
played in the lazy, happy days of the past. It could not be
that her memory held more of the past than did her new appearance.

It was a sad Korak who ranged the jungle near the plain's edge
waiting for the coming of his Meriem--the Meriem who never came.

But there came another--a tall, broad-shouldered man in khaki
at the head of a swarthy crew of ebon warriors. The man's face
was set in hard, stern lines and the marks of sorrow were writ
deep about his mouth and eyes--so deep that the set expression
of rage upon his features could not obliterate them.

Korak saw the man pass beneath him where he hid in the great
tree that had harbored him before upon the edge of that fateful
little clearing. He saw him come and he set rigid and frozen and
suffering above him. He saw him search the ground with his
keen eyes, and he only sat there watching with eyes that glazed
from the intensity of his gaze. He saw him sign to his men that
he had come upon that which he sought and he saw him pass
out of sight toward the north, and still Korak sat like a graven
image, with a heart that bled in dumb misery. An hour later
Korak moved slowly away, back into the jungle toward the west.
He went listlessly, with bent head and stooped shoulders, like
an old man who bore upon his back the weight of a great sorrow.

Baynes, following his black guide, battled his way through
the dense underbrush, riding stooped low over his horse's neck,
or often he dismounted where the low branches swept too close
to earth to permit him to remain in the saddle. The black was
taking him the shortest way, which was no way at all for a
horseman, and after the first day's march the young Englishman
was forced to abandon his mount, and follow his nimble guide
entirely on foot.

During the long hours of marching the Hon. Morison had
much time to devote to thought, and as he pictured the probable
fate of Meriem at the hands of the Swede his rage against the
man became the greater. But presently there came to him a
realization of the fact that his own base plans had led the girl
into this terrible predicament, and that even had she escaped
"Hanson" she would have found but little better deserts awaiting
her with him.

There came too, the realization that Meriem was infinitely
more precious to him than he had imagined. For the first time
he commenced to compare her with other women of his acquaintance--
women of birth and position--and almost to his surprise--he
discovered that the young Arab girl suffered less than they by
the comparison. And then from hating "Hanson" he came to look
upon himself with hate and loathing--to see himself and his
perfidious act in all their contemptible hideousness.

Thus, in the crucible of shame amidst the white heat of naked
truths, the passion that the man had felt for the girl he had
considered his social inferior was transmuted into love. And as
he staggered on there burned within him beside his newborn
love another great passion--the passion of hate urging him on
to the consummation of revenge.

A creature of ease and luxury, he had never been subjected
to the hardships and tortures which now were his constant
companionship, yet, his clothing torn, his flesh scratched
and bleeding, he urged the black to greater speed, though with
every dozen steps he himself fell from exhaustion.

It was revenge which kept him going--that and a feeling that
in his suffering he was partially expiating the great wrong he
had done the girl he loved--for hope of saving her from the fate
into which he had trapped her had never existed. "Too late!
Too late!" was the dismal accompaniment of thought to which
he marched. "Too late! Too late to save; but not too late
to avenge!" That kept him up.

Only when it became too dark to see would he permit of a halt.
A dozen times in the afternoon he had threatened the black
with instant death when the tired guide insisted upon resting.
The fellow was terrified. He could not understand the remarkable
change that had so suddenly come over the white man who had
been afraid in the dark the night before. He would have
deserted this terrifying master had he had the opportunity; but
Baynes guessed that some such thought might be in the other's
mind, and so gave the fellow none. He kept close to him by day
and slept touching him at night in the rude thorn boma they
constructed as a slight protection against prowling carnivora.

That the Hon. Morison could sleep at all in the midst of the
savage jungle was sufficient indication that he had changed
considerably in the past twenty-four hours, and that he could
lie close beside a none-too-fragrant black man spoke of
possibilities for democracy within him yet all undreamed of.

Morning found him stiff and lame and sore, but none the less
determined to push on in pursuit of "Hanson" as rapidly as possible.
With his rifle he brought down a buck at a ford in a small stream
shortly after they broke camp, breakfastless. Begrudgingly he
permitted a halt while they cooked and ate, and then on again
through the wilderness of trees and vines and underbrush.

And in the meantime Korak wandered slowly westward, coming
upon the trail of Tantor, the elephant, whom he overtook
browsing in the deep shade of the jungle. The ape-man, lonely
and sorrowing, was glad of the companionship of his huge friend.
Affectionately the sinuous trunk encircled him, and he was
swung to the mighty back where so often before he had lolled
and dreamed the long afternoon away.

Far to the north the Big Bwana and his black warriors clung
tenaciously to the trail of the fleeing safari that was
luring them further and further from the girl they sought to
save, while back at the bungalow the woman who had loved Meriem
as though she had been her own waited impatiently and in sorrow
for the return of the rescuing party and the girl she was positive
her invincible lord and master would bring back with him.