5

Tarzan, the Jewels of Opar

by Edgar R. Burroughs

5, TARZAN, THE JEWELS OF OPAR by Edgar R. Burroughs
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The Altar of the Flaming God


It was at the moment that Tarzan turned from the closed
door to pursue his way to the outer world. The thing
came without warning. One instant all was quiet and
stability--the next, and the world rocked, the tortured
sides of the narrow passageway split and crumbled,
great blocks of granite, dislodged from the ceiling,
tumbled into the narrow way, choking it, and the walls
bent inward upon the wreckage. Beneath the blow of a
fragment of the roof, Tarzan staggered back against the
door to the treasure room, his weight pushed it open
and his body rolled inward upon the floor.

In the great apartment where the treasure lay less
damage was wrought by the earthquake. A few ingots
toppled from the higher tiers, a single piece of the
rocky ceiling splintered off and crashed downward to
the floor, and the walls cracked, though they did not
collapse.

There was but the single shock, no other followed to
complete the damage undertaken by the first. Werper,
thrown to his length by the suddenness and violence of
the disturbance, staggered to his feet when he found
himself unhurt. Groping his way toward the far end of
the chamber, he sought the candle which Tarzan had left
stuck in its own wax upon the protruding end of an
ingot.

By striking numerous matches the Belgian at last found
what he sought, and when, a moment later, the sickly
rays relieved the Stygian darkness about him, he
breathed a nervous sigh of relief, for the impenetrable
gloom had accentuated the terrors of his situation.

As they became accustomed to the light the man turned
his eyes toward the door--his one thought now was of
escape from this frightful tomb--and as he did so he
saw the body of the naked giant lying stretched upon
the floor just within the doorway. Werper drew back in
sudden fear of detection; but a second glance convinced
him that the Englishman was dead. From a great gash in
the man's head a pool of blood had collected upon the
concrete floor.

Quickly, the Belgian leaped over the prostrate form of
his erstwhile host, and without a thought of succor for
the man in whom, for aught he knew, life still
remained, he bolted for the passageway and safety.

But his renewed hopes were soon dashed. Just beyond
the doorway he found the passage completely clogged and
choked by impenetrable masses of shattered rock.
Once more he turned and re-entered the treasure vault.
Taking the candle from its place he commenced a
systematic search of the apartment, nor had he gone far
before he discovered another door in the opposite end
of the room, a door which gave upon creaking hinges to
the weight of his body. Beyond the door lay another
narrow passageway. Along this Werper made his way,
ascending a flight of stone steps to another corridor
twenty feet above the level of the first. The
flickering candle lighted the way before him, and a
moment later he was thankful for the possession of this
crude and antiquated luminant, which, a few hours
before he might have looked upon with contempt, for it
showed him, just in time, a yawning pit, apparently
terminating the tunnel he was traversing.

Before him was a circular shaft. He held the candle
above it and peered downward. Below him, at a great
distance, he saw the light reflected back from the
surface of a pool of water. He had come upon a well.
He raised the candle above his head and peered across
the black void, and there upon the opposite side he saw
the continuation of the tunnel; but how was he to span
the gulf?

As he stood there measuring the distance to the
opposite side and wondering if he dared venture so
great a leap, there broke suddenly upon his startled
ears a piercing scream which diminished gradually until
it ended in a series of dismal moans. The voice seemed
partly human, yet so hideous that it might well have
emanated from the tortured throat of a lost soul,
writhing in the fires of hell.

The Belgian shuddered and looked fearfully upward,
for the scream had seemed to come from above him.
As he looked he saw an opening far overhead, and a
patch of sky pinked with brilliant stars.

His half-formed intention to call for help was expunged
by the terrifying cry--where such a voice lived, no
human creatures could dwell. He dared not reveal
himself to whatever inhabitants dwelt in the place
above him. He cursed himself for a fool that he had
ever embarked upon such a mission. He wished himself
safely back in the camp of Achmet Zek, and would almost
have embraced an opportunity to give himself up to the
military authorities of the Congo if by so doing he
might be rescued from the frightful predicament in
which he now was.

He listened fearfully, but the cry was not repeated,
and at last spurred to desperate means, he gathered
himself for the leap across the chasm. Going back
twenty paces, he took a running start, and at the edge
of the well, leaped upward and outward in an attempt to
gain the opposite side.

In his hand he clutched the sputtering candle,
and as he took the leap the rush of air extinguished it.
In utter darkness he flew through space, clutching outward
for a hold should his feet miss the invisible ledge.

He struck the edge of the door of the opposite terminus
of the rocky tunnel with his knees, slipped backward,
clutched desperately for a moment, and at last hung
half within and half without the opening; but he was safe.
For several minutes he dared not move; but
clung, weak and sweating, where he lay. At last,
cautiously, he drew himself well within the tunnel,
and again he lay at full length upon the floor,
fighting to regain control of his shattered nerves.

When his knees struck the edge of the tunnel he had
dropped the candle. Presently, hoping against hope
that it had fallen upon the floor of the passageway,
rather than back into the depths of the well, he rose
upon all fours and commenced a diligent search for the
little tallow cylinder, which now seemed infinitely
more precious to him than all the fabulous wealth of
the hoarded ingots of Opar.

And when, at last, he found it, he clasped it to him
and sank back sobbing and exhausted. For many minutes
he lay trembling and broken; but finally he drew
himself to a sitting posture, and taking a match from
his pocket, lighted the stump of the candle which
remained to him. With the light he found it easier to
regain control of his nerves, and presently he was
again making his way along the tunnel in search of an
avenue of escape. The horrid cry that had come down to
him from above through the ancient well-shaft still
haunted him, so that he trembled in terror at even the
sounds of his own cautious advance.

He had gone forward but a short distance, when, to his
chagrin, a wall of masonry barred his farther progress,
closing the tunnel completely from top to bottom and
from side to side. What could it mean? Werper was an
educated and intelligent man. His military training
had taught him to use his mind for the purpose for
which it was intended. A blind tunnel such as this was
senseless. It must continue beyond the wall. Someone,
at some time in the past, had had it blocked for an
unknown purpose of his own. The man fell to examining
the masonry by the light of his candle. To his delight
he discovered that the thin blocks of hewn stone of
which it was constructed were fitted in loosely without
mortar or cement. He tugged upon one of them, and to
his joy found that it was easily removable. One after
another he pulled out the blocks until he had opened an
aperture large enough to admit his body, then he
crawled through into a large, low chamber. Across this
another door barred his way; but this, too, gave before
his efforts, for it was not barred. A long, dark
corridor showed before him, but before he had followed
it far, his candle burned down until it scorched his
fingers. With an oath he dropped it to the floor,
where it sputtered for a moment and went out.

Now he was in total darkness, and again terror rode
heavily astride his neck. What further pitfalls and
dangers lay ahead he could not guess; but that he was
as far as ever from liberty he was quite willing to
believe, so depressing is utter absence of light to one
in unfamiliar surroundings.

Slowly he groped his way along, feeling with his hands
upon the tunnel's walls, and cautiously with his feet
ahead of him upon the floor before he could take a
single forward step. How long he crept on thus he
could not guess; but at last, feeling that the tunnel's
length was interminable, and exhausted by his efforts,
by terror, and loss of sleep, he determined to lie down
and rest before proceeding farther.

When he awoke there was no change in the surrounding
blackness. He might have slept a second or a day--he
could not know; but that he had slept for some time was
attested by the fact that he felt refreshed and hungry.

Again he commenced his groping advance; but this time
he had gone but a short distance when he emerged into a
room, which was lighted through an opening in the
ceiling, from which a flight of concrete steps led
downward to the floor of the chamber.

Above him, through the aperture, Werper could see
sunlight glancing from massive columns, which were
twined about by clinging vines. He listened; but he
heard no sound other than the soughing of the wind
through leafy branches, the hoarse cries of birds,
and the chattering of monkeys.

Boldly he ascended the stairway, to find himself in a
circular court. Just before him stood a stone altar,
stained with rusty-brown discolorations. At the time
Werper gave no thought to an explanation of these
stains--later their origin became all too hideously
apparent to him.

Beside the opening in the floor, just behind the altar,
through which he had entered the court from the
subterranean chamber below, the Belgian discovered
several doors leading from the enclosure upon the level
of the floor. Above, and circling the courtyard, was a
series of open balconies. Monkeys scampered about the
deserted ruins, and gaily plumaged birds flitted in and
out among the columns and the galleries far above; but
no sign of human presence was discernible. Werper felt
relieved. He sighed, as though a great weight had been
lifted from his shoulders. He took a step toward one
of the exits, and then he halted, wide-eyed in
astonishment and terror, for almost at the same instant
a dozen doors opened in the courtyard wall and a horde
of frightful men rushed in upon him.

They were the priests of the Flaming God of Opar--the
same, shaggy, knotted, hideous little men who had
dragged Jane Clayton to the sacrificial altar at this
very spot years before. Their long arms, their short
and crooked legs, their close-set, evil eyes, and their
low, receding foreheads gave them a bestial appearance
that sent a qualm of paralyzing fright through the
shaken nerves of the Belgian.

With a scream he turned to flee back into the lesser
terrors of the gloomy corridors and apartments from
which he had just emerged, but the frightful men
anticipated his intentions. They blocked the way;
they seized him, and though he fell, groveling upon his
knees before them, begging for his life, they bound him
and hurled him to the floor of the inner temple.

The rest was but a repetition of what Tarzan and Jane
Clayton had passed through. The priestesses came,
and with them La, the High Priestess. Werper was raised
and laid across the altar. Cold sweat exuded from his
every pore as La raised the cruel, sacrificial knife
above him. The death chant fell upon his tortured
ears. His staring eyes wandered to the golden goblets
from which the hideous votaries would soon quench their
inhuman thirst in his own, warm life-blood.

He wished that he might be granted the brief respite of
unconsciousness before the final plunge of the keen
blade--and then there was a frightful roar that sounded
almost in his ears. The High Priestess lowered her
dagger. Her eyes went wide in horror. The
priestesses, her votaresses, screamed and fled madly
toward the exits. The priests roared out their rage
and terror according to the temper of their courage.
Werper strained his neck about to catch a sight of the
cause of their panic, and when, at last he saw it, he
too went cold in dread, for what his eyes beheld was
the figure of a huge lion standing in the center of the
temple, and already a single victim lay mangled beneath
his cruel paws.

Again the lord of the wilderness roared, turning his
baleful gaze upon the altar. La staggered forward,
reeled, and fell across Werper in a swoon.