11

Tarzan, the Jewels of Opar

by Edgar R. Burroughs

11, TARZAN, THE JEWELS OF OPAR by Edgar R. Burroughs
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Tarzan Becomes a Beast Again


For a moment Werper had stood above the sleeping ape-man,
his murderous knife poised for the fatal thrust;
but fear stayed his hand. What if the first blow
should fail to drive the point to his victim's heart?
Werper shuddered in contemplation of the disastrous
consequences to himself. Awakened, and even with a few
moments of life remaining, the giant could literally
tear his assailant to pieces should he choose, and the
Belgian had no doubt but that Tarzan would so choose.

Again came the soft sound of padded footsteps in the
reeds--closer this time. Werper abandoned his design.
Before him stretched the wide plain and escape.
The jewels were in his possession. To remain longer was to
risk death at the hands of Tarzan, or the jaws of the
hunter creeping ever nearer. Turning, he slunk away
through the night, toward the distant forest.

Tarzan slept on. Where were those uncanny, guardian
powers that had formerly rendered him immune from the
dangers of surprise? Could this dull sleeper be the
alert, sensitive Tarzan of old?

Perhaps the blow upon his head had numbed his senses,
temporarily--who may say? Closer crept the stealthy
creature through the reeds. The rustling curtain of
vegetation parted a few paces from where the sleeper
lay, and the massive head of a lion appeared. The
beast surveyed the ape-man intently for a moment, then
he crouched, his hind feet drawn well beneath him, his
tail lashing from side to side.

It was the beating of the beast's tail against the
reeds which awakened Tarzan. Jungle folk do not awaken
slowly--instantly, full consciousness and full command
of their every faculty returns to them from the depth
of profound slumber.

Even as Tarzan opened his eyes he was upon his feet,
his spear grasped firmly in his hand and ready for
attack. Again was he Tarzan of the Apes, sentient,
vigilant, ready.

No two lions have identical characteristics, nor does
the same lion invariably act similarly under like
circumstances. Whether it was surprise, fear or
caution which prompted the lion crouching ready to
spring upon the man, is immaterial--the fact remains
that he did not carry out his original design, he did
not spring at the man at all, but, instead, wheeled and
sprang back into the reeds as Tarzan arose and
confronted him.

The ape-man shrugged his broad shoulders and looked
about for his companion. Werper was nowhere to be
seen. At first Tarzan suspected that the man had been
seized and dragged off by another lion, but upon
examination of the ground he soon discovered that the
Belgian had gone away alone out into the plain.

For a moment he was puzzled; but presently came to the
conclusion that Werper had been frightened by the
approach of the lion, and had sneaked off in terror.
A sneer touched Tarzan's lips as he pondered the man's
act--the desertion of a comrade in time of danger, and
without warning. Well, if that was the sort of
creature Werper was, Tarzan wished nothing more of him.
He had gone, and for all the ape-man cared, he might
remain away--Tarzan would not search for him.

A hundred yards from where he stood grew a large tree,
alone upon the edge of the reedy jungle. Tarzan made
his way to it, clambered into it, and finding a
comfortable crotch among its branches, reposed himself
for uninterrupted sleep until morning.

And when morning came Tarzan slept on long after the
sun had risen. His mind, reverted to the primitive,
was untroubled by any more serious obligations than
those of providing sustenance, and safeguarding his life.
Therefore, there was nothing to awaken for until
danger threatened, or the pangs of hunger assailed.
It was the latter which eventually aroused him.

Opening his eyes, he stretched his giant thews, yawned,
rose and gazed about him through the leafy foliage of
his retreat. Across the wasted meadowlands and fields
of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, Tarzan of the Apes
looked, as a stranger, upon the moving figures of
Basuli and his braves as they prepared their morning
meal and made ready to set out upon the expedition
which Basuli had planned after discovering the havoc and
disaster which had befallen the estate of his dead master.

The ape-man eyed the blacks with curiosity.
In the back of his brain loitered a fleeting sense of
familiarity with all that he saw, yet he could not
connect any of the various forms of life, animate and
inanimate, which had fallen within the range of his
vision since he had emerged from the darkness of the
pits of Opar, with any particular event of the past.

Hazily he recalled a grim and hideous form, hairy,
ferocious. A vague tenderness dominated his savage
sentiments as this phantom memory struggled for
recognition. His mind had reverted to his childhood
days--it was the figure of the giant she-ape, Kala,
that he saw; but only half recognized. He saw, too,
other grotesque, manlike forms. They were of Terkoz,
Tublat, Kerchak, and a smaller, less ferocious figure,
that was Neeta, the little playmate of his boyhood.

Slowly, very slowly, as these visions of the past
animated his lethargic memory, he came to recognize
them. They took definite shape and form, adjusting
themselves nicely to the various incidents of his life
with which they had been intimately connected. His
boyhood among the apes spread itself in a slow panorama
before him, and as it unfolded it induced within him a
mighty longing for the companionship of the shaggy,
low-browed brutes of his past.

He watched the blacks scatter their cook fire and
depart; but though the face of each of them had but
recently been as familiar to him as his own, they
awakened within him no recollections whatsoever.

When they had gone, he descended from the tree and
sought food. Out upon the plain grazed numerous herds
of wild ruminants. Toward a sleek, fat bunch of zebra
he wormed his stealthy way. No intricate process of
reasoning caused him to circle widely until he was down
wind from his prey--he acted instinctively. He took
advantage of every form of cover as he crawled upon all
fours and often flat upon his stomach toward them.

A plump young mare and a fat stallion grazed nearest to
him as he neared the herd. Again it was instinct which
selected the former for his meat. A low bush grew but
a few yards from the unsuspecting two. The ape-man
reached its shelter. He gathered his spear firmly in
his grasp. Cautiously he drew his feet beneath him.
In a single swift move he rose and cast his heavy
weapon at the mare's side. Nor did he wait to note the
effect of his assault, but leaped cat-like after his
spear, his hunting knife in his hand.

For an instant the two animals stood motionless.
The tearing of the cruel barb into her side brought a
sudden scream of pain and fright from the mare, and
then they both wheeled and broke for safety; but Tarzan
of the Apes, for a distance of a few yards, could equal
the speed of even these, and the first stride of the
mare found her overhauled, with a savage beast at her
shoulder. She turned, biting and kicking at her foe.
Her mate hesitated for an instant, as though about to
rush to her assistance; but a backward glance revealed
to him the flying heels of the balance of the herd, and
with a snort and a shake of his head he wheeled and
dashed away.

Clinging with one hand to the short mane of his quarry,
Tarzan struck again and again with his knife at the
unprotected heart. The result had, from the first,
been inevitable. The mare fought bravely, but
hopelessly, and presently sank to the earth, her heart
pierced. The ape-man placed a foot upon her carcass
and raised his voice in the victory call of the
Mangani. In the distance, Basuli halted as the faint
notes of the hideous scream broke upon his ears.

"The great apes," he said to his companion. "It has
been long since I have heard them in the country of the
Waziri. What could have brought them back?"

Tarzan grasped his kill and dragged it to the partial
seclusion of the bush which had hidden his own near
approach, and there he squatted upon it, cut a huge
hunk of flesh from the loin and proceeded to satisfy
his hunger with the warm and dripping meat.

Attracted by the shrill screams of the mare, a pair of
hyenas slunk presently into view. They trotted to a
point a few yards from the gorging ape-man, and halted.
Tarzan looked up, bared his fighting fangs and growled.
The hyenas returned the compliment, and withdrew a
couple of paces. They made no move to attack; but
continued to sit at a respectful distance until Tarzan
had concluded his meal. After the ape-man had cut a
few strips from the carcass to carry with him, he
walked slowly off in the direction of the river to
quench his thirst. His way lay directly toward the
hyenas, nor did he alter his course because of them.

With all the lordly majesty of Numa, the lion,
he strode straight toward the growling beasts. For a
moment they held their ground, bristling and defiant;
but only for a moment, and then slunk away to one side
while the indifferent ape-man passed them on his lordly
way. A moment later they were tearing at the remains
of the zebra.

Back to the reeds went Tarzan, and through them toward
the river. A herd of buffalo, startled by his
approach, rose ready to charge or to fly. A great bull
pawed the ground and bellowed as his bloodshot eyes
discovered the intruder; but the ape-man passed across
their front as though ignorant of their existence.
The bull's bellowing lessened to a low rumbling, he turned
and scraped a horde of flies from his side with his
muzzle, cast a final glance at the ape-man and resumed
his feeding. His numerous family either followed his
example or stood gazing after Tarzan in mild-eyed
curiosity, until the opposite reeds swallowed him from
view.

At the river, Tarzan drank his fill and bathed. During
the heat of the day he lay up under the shade of a tree
near the ruins of his burned barns. His eyes wandered
out across the plain toward the forest, and a longing
for the pleasures of its mysterious depths possessed
his thoughts for a considerable time. With the next
sun he would cross the open and enter the forest! There
was no hurry--there lay before him an endless vista of
tomorrows with naught to fill them but the satisfying
of the appetites and caprices of the moment.

The ape-man's mind was untroubled by regret for the
past, or aspiration for the future. He could lie at
full length along a swaying branch, stretching his
giant limbs, and luxuriating in the blessed peace of
utter thoughtlessness, without an apprehension or a
worry to sap his nervous energy and rob him of his
peace of mind. Recalling only dimly any other
existence, the ape-man was happy. Lord Greystoke had
ceased to exist.

For several hours Tarzan lolled upon his swaying, leafy
couch until once again hunger and thirst suggested an
excursion. Stretching lazily he dropped to the ground
and moved slowly toward the river. The game trail down
which he walked had become by ages of use a deep,
narrow trench, its walls topped on either side by
impenetrable thicket and dense-growing trees closely
interwoven with thick-stemmed creepers and lesser vines
inextricably matted into two solid ramparts of
vegetation. Tarzan had almost reached the point where
the trail debouched upon the open river bottom when he
saw a family of lions approaching along the path from
the direction of the river. The ape-man counted seven--
a male and two lionesses, full grown, and four young
lions as large and quite as formidable as their
parents. Tarzan halted, growling, and the lions
paused, the great male in the lead baring his fangs and
rumbling forth a warning roar. In his hand the ape-man
held his heavy spear; but he had no intention of
pitting his puny weapon against seven lions; yet he
stood there growling and roaring and the lions did
likewise. It was purely an exhibition of jungle bluff.
Each was trying to frighten off the other. Neither
wished to turn back and give way, nor did either at
first desire to precipitate an encounter. The lions
were fed sufficiently so as not to be goaded by pangs
of hunger and as for Tarzan he seldom ate the meat of
the carnivores; but a point of ethics was at stake and
neither side wished to back down. So they stood there
facing one another, making all sorts of hideous noises
the while they hurled jungle invective back and forth.
How long this bloodless duel would have persisted it is
difficult to say, though eventually Tarzan would have
been forced to yield to superior numbers.

There came, however, an interruption which put an end
to the deadlock and it came from Tarzan's rear. He and
the lions had been making so much noise that neither
could hear anything above their concerted bedlam, and
so it was that Tarzan did not hear the great bulk
bearing down upon him from behind until an instant
before it was upon him, and then he turned to see Buto,
the rhinoceros, his little, pig eyes blazing, charging
madly toward him and already so close that escape
seemed impossible; yet so perfectly were mind and
muscles coordinated in this unspoiled, primitive man
that almost simultaneously with the sense perception of
the threatened danger he wheeled and hurled his spear
at Buto's chest. It was a heavy spear shod with iron,
and behind it were the giant muscles of the ape-man,
while coming to meet it was the enormous weight of Buto
and the momentum of his rapid rush. All that happened
in the instant that Tarzan turned to meet the charge of
the irascible rhinoceros might take long to tell, and
yet would have taxed the swiftest lens to record.
As his spear left his hand the ape-man was looking down
upon the mighty horn lowered to toss him, so close was
Buto to him. The spear entered the rhinoceros' neck at
its junction with the left shoulder and passed almost
entirely through the beast's body, and at the instant
that he launched it, Tarzan leaped straight into the
air alighting upon Buto's back but escaping the mighty
horn.

Then Buto espied the lions and bore madly down upon
them while Tarzan of the Apes leaped nimbly into the
tangled creepers at one side of the trail. The first
lion met Buto's charge and was tossed high over the
back of the maddened brute, torn and dying, and then
the six remaining lions were upon the rhinoceros,
rending and tearing the while they were being gored or
trampled. From the safety of his perch Tarzan watched
the royal battle with the keenest interest, for the
more intelligent of the jungle folk are interested in
such encounters. They are to them what the racetrack
and the prize ring, the theater and the movies are to
us. They see them often; but always they enjoy them for
no two are precisely alike.

For a time it seemed to Tarzan that Buto, the
rhinoceros, would prove victor in the gory battle.
Already had he accounted for four of the seven lions
and badly wounded the three remaining when in a
momentary lull in the encounter he sank limply to his
knees and rolled over upon his side. Tarzan's spear
had done its work. It was the man-made weapon which
killed the great beast that might easily have survived
the assault of seven mighty lions, for Tarzan's spear
had pierced the great lungs, and Buto, with victory
almost in sight, succumbed to internal hemorrhage.

Then Tarzan came down from his sanctuary and as the
wounded lions, growling, dragged themselves away, the
ape-man cut his spear from the body of Buto, hacked off
a steak and vanished into the jungle. The episode was
over. It had been all in the day's work--something
which you and I might talk about for a lifetime Tarzan
dismissed from his mind the moment that the scene
passed from his sight.