V. — TARZAN AND
THE BLACK BOY
Tarzan of the Apes sat at the foot of a great tree braiding a new
grass rope. Beside him lay the frayed remnants of the old one, torn and severed
by the fangs and talons of Sheeta, the panther. Only half the original rope was
there, the balance having been carried off by the angry cat as he bounded away
through the jungle with the noose still about his savage neck and the loose end
dragging among the underbrush.
Tarzan smiled as he recalled
Sheeta's great rage, his frantic efforts to free himself from the entangling
strands, his uncanny screams that were part hate, part anger, part terror. He
smiled in retrospection at the discomfiture of his enemy, and in anticipation
of another day as he added an extra strand to his new rope.
This would be the strongest, the
heaviest rope that Tarzan of the Apes ever had fashioned. Visions of Numa, the
lion, straining futilely in its embrace thrilled the ape-man. He was quite
content, for his hands and his brain were busy. Content, too, were his fellows
of the tribe of Kerchak, searching for food in the clearing and the surrounding
trees about him. No perplexing thoughts of the future burdened their minds, and
only occasionally, dimly arose recollections of the near past. They were
stimulated to a species of brutal content by the delectable business of filling
their bellies. Afterward they would sleep—it was their life, and they enjoyed
it as we enjoy ours, you and I—as Tarzan enjoyed his. Possibly they enjoyed
theirs more than we enjoy ours, for who shall say that the beasts of the jungle
do not better fulfill the purposes for which they are created than does man
with his many excursions into strange fields and his contraventions of the laws
of nature? And what gives greater content and greater happiness than the
fulfilling of a destiny?
As Tarzan worked, Gazan, Teeka's
little balu, played about him while Teeka sought food upon the opposite side of
the clearing. No more did Teeka, the mother, or Taug, the sullen sire, harbor
suspicions of Tarzan's intentions toward their first-born. Had he not courted
death to save their Gazan from the fangs and talons of Sheeta? Did he not
fondle and cuddle the little one with even as great a show of affection as
Teeka herself displayed? Their fears were allayed and Tarzan now found himself
often in the role of nursemaid to a tiny anthropoid—an avocation which he found
by no means irksome, since Gazan was a never-failing fount of surprises and
entertainment.
Just now the apeling was developing
those arboreal tendencies which were to stand him in such good stead during the
years of his youth, when rapid flight into the upper terraces was of far more
importance and value than his undeveloped muscles and untried fighting fangs.
Backing off fifteen or twenty feet from the bole of the tree beneath the
branches of which Tarzan worked upon his rope, Gazan scampered quickly forward,
scrambling nimbly upward to the lower limbs. Here he would squat for a moment
or two, quite proud of his achievement, then clamber to the ground again and
repeat. Sometimes, quite often in fact, for he was an ape, his attention was
distracted by other things, a beetle, a caterpillar, a tiny field mouse, and
off he would go in pursuit; the caterpillars he always caught, and sometimes
the beetles; but the field mice, never.
Now he discovered the tail of the
rope upon which Tarzan was working. Grasping it in one small hand he bounced
away, for all the world like an animated rubber ball, snatching it from the
ape-man's hand and running off across the clearing. Tarzan leaped to his feet
and was in pursuit in an instant, no trace of anger on his face or in his voice
as he called to the roguish little balu to drop his rope.
Straight toward his mother raced
Gazan, and after him came Tarzan. Teeka looked up from her feeding, and in the
first instant that she realized that Gazan was fleeing and that another was in
pursuit, she bared her fangs and bristled; but when she saw that the pursuer
was Tarzan she turned back to the business that had been occupying her
attention. At her very feet the ape-man overhauled the balu and, though the
youngster squealed and fought when Tarzan seized him, Teeka only glanced
casually in their direction. No longer did she fear harm to her first-born at
the hands of the ape-man. Had he not saved Gazan on two occasions?
Rescuing his rope, Tarzan returned
to his tree and resumed his labor; but thereafter it was necessary to watch
carefully the playful balu, who was now possessed to steal it whenever he
thought his great, smooth-skinned cousin was momentarily off his guard.
But even under this handicap Tarzan
finally completed the rope, a long, pliant weapon, stronger than any he ever
had made before. The discarded piece of his former one he gave to Gazan for a
plaything, for Tarzan had it in his mind to instruct Teeka's balu after ideas
of his own when the youngster should be old and strong enough to profit by his
precepts. At present the little ape's innate aptitude for mimicry would be
sufficient to familiarize him with Tarzan's ways and weapons, and so the
ape-man swung off into the jungle, his new rope coiled over one shoulder, while
little Gazan hopped about the clearing dragging the old one after him in
childish glee.
As Tarzan traveled, dividing his
quest for food with one for a sufficiently noble quarry whereupon to test his
new weapon, his mind often was upon Gazan. The ape-man had realized a deep
affection for Teeka's balu almost from the first, partly because the child
belonged to Teeka, his first love, and partly for the little ape's own sake, and
Tarzan's human longing for some sentient creature upon which to expend those
natural affections of the soul which are inherent to all normal members of the
genus homo. Tarzan envied Teeka. It was true that Gazan evidenced a
considerable reciprocation of Tarzan's fondness for him, even preferring him to
his own surly sire; but to Teeka the little one turned when in pain or terror,
when tired or hungry. Then it was that Tarzan felt quite alone in the world and
longed desperately for one who should turn first to him for succor and
protection.
Taug had Teeka; Teeka had Gazan; and
nearly every other bull and cow of the tribe of Kerchak had one or more to love
and by whom to be loved. Of course Tarzan could scarcely formulate the thought
in precisely this way —he only knew that he craved something which was denied
him; something which seemed to be represented by those relations which existed
between Teeka and her balu, and so he envied Teeka and longed for a balu of his
own.
He saw Sheeta and his mate with
their little family of three; and deeper inland toward the rocky hills, where
one might lie up during the heat of the day, in the dense shade of a tangled
thicket close under the cool face of an overhanging rock, Tarzan had found the
lair of Numa, the lion, and of Sabor, the lioness. Here he had watched them
with their little balus—playful creatures, spotted leopard-like. And he had
seen the young fawn with Bara, the deer, and with Buto, the rhinoceros, its
ungainly little one. Each of the creatures of the jungle had its own—except
Tarzan. It made the ape-man sad to think upon this thing, sad and lonely; but
presently the scent of game cleared his young mind of all other considerations,
as catlike he crawled far out upon a bending limb above the game trail which led
down to the ancient watering place of the wild things of this wild world.
How many thousands of times had this
great, old limb bent to the savage form of some blood-thirsty hunter in the
long years that it had spread its leafy branches above the deep-worn jungle
path! Tarzan, the ape-man, Sheeta, the panther, and Histah, the snake, it knew
well. They had worn smooth the bark upon its upper surface.
Today it was Horta, the boar, which
came down toward the watcher in the old tree—Horta, the boar, whose formidable
tusks and diabolical temper preserved him from all but the most ferocious or
most famished of the largest carnivora.
But to Tarzan, meat was meat; naught
that was edible or tasty might pass a hungry Tarzan unchallenged and
unattacked. In hunger, as in battle, the ape-man out-savaged the dreariest
denizens of the jungle. He knew neither fear nor mercy, except upon rare occasions
when some strange, inexplicable force stayed his hand—a force inexplicable to
him, perhaps, because of his ignorance of his own origin and of all the forces
of humanitarianism and civilization that were his rightful heritage because of
that origin.
So today, instead of staying his
hand until a less formidable feast found its way toward him, Tarzan dropped his
new noose about the neck of Horta, the boar. It was an excellent test for the
untried strands. The angered boar bolted this way and that; but each time the
new rope held him where Tarzan had made it fast about the stem of the tree
above the branch from which he had cast it.
As Horta grunted and charged,
slashing the sturdy jungle patriarch with his mighty tusks until the bark flew
in every direction, Tarzan dropped to the ground behind him. In the ape-man's
hand was the long, keen blade that had been his constant companion since that
distant day upon which chance had directed its point into the body of Bolgani,
the gorilla, and saved the torn and bleeding man-child from what else had been
certain death.
Tarzan walked in toward Horta, who
swung now to face his enemy. Mighty and muscled as was the young giant, it yet
would have appeared but the maddest folly for him to face so formidable a
creature as Horta, the boar, armed only with a slender hunting knife. So it
would have seemed to one who knew Horta even slightly and Tarzan not at all.
For a moment Horta stood motionless
facing the ape-man. His wicked, deep-set eyes flashed angrily. He shook his
lowered head.
"Mud-eater!" jeered the
ape-man. "Wallower in filth. Even your meat stinks, but it is juicy and
makes Tarzan strong. Today I shall eat your heart, O Lord of the Great Tusks,
that it shall keep savage that which pounds against my own ribs."
Horta, understanding nothing of what
Tarzan said, was none the less enraged because of that. He saw only a naked
man-thing, hairless and futile, pitting his puny fangs and soft muscles against
his own indomitable savagery, and he charged.
Tarzan of the Apes waited until the
upcut of a wicked tusk would have laid open his thigh, then he moved—just the
least bit to one side; but so quickly that lightning was a sluggard by
comparison, and as he moved, he stooped low and with all the great power of his
right arm drove the long blade of his father's hunting knife straight into the
heart of Horta, the boar. A quick leap carried him from the zone of the
creature's death throes, and a moment later the hot and dripping heart of Horta
was in his grasp.
His hunger satisfied, Tarzan did not
seek a lying-up place for sleep, as was sometimes his way, but continued on
through the jungle more in search of adventure than of food, for today he was
restless. And so it came that he turned his footsteps toward the village of
Mbonga, the black chief, whose people Tarzan had baited remorselessly since
that day upon which Kulonga, the chief's son, had slain Kala.
A river winds close beside the
village of the black men. Tarzan reached its side a little below the clearing
where squat the thatched huts of the Negroes. The river life was ever
fascinating to the ape-man. He found pleasure in watching the ungainly antics
of Duro, the hippopotamus, and keen sport in tormenting the sluggish crocodile,
Gimla, as he basked in the sun. Then, too, there were the shes and the balus of
the black men of the Gomangani to frighten as they squatted by the river, the
shes with their meager washing, the balus with their primitive toys.
This day he came upon a woman and
her child farther down stream than usual. The former was searching for a
species of shellfish which was to be found in the mud close to the river bank.
She was a young black woman of about thirty. Her teeth were filed to sharp
points, for her people ate the flesh of man. Her under lip was slit that it
might support a rude pendant of copper which she had worn for so many years
that the lip had been dragged downward to prodigious lengths, exposing the
teeth and gums of her lower jaw. Her nose, too, was slit, and through the slit
was a wooden skewer. Metal ornaments dangled from her ears, and upon her
forehead and cheeks; upon her chin and the bridge of her nose were tattooings
in colors that were mellowed now by age. She was naked except for a girdle of
grasses about her waist. Altogether she was very beautiful in her own
estimation and even in the estimation of the men of Mbonga's tribe, though she
was of another people —a trophy of war seized in her maidenhood by one of
Mbonga's fighting men.
Her child was a boy of ten, lithe,
straight and, for a black, handsome. Tarzan looked upon the two from the
concealing foliage of a near-by bush. He was about to leap forth before them
with a terrifying scream, that he might enjoy the spectacle of their terror and
their incontinent flight; but of a sudden a new whim seized him. Here was a
balu fashioned as he himself was fashioned. Of course this one's skin was
black; but what of it? Tarzan had never seen a white man. In so far as he knew,
he was the sole representative of that strange form of life upon the earth. The
black boy should make an excellent balu for Tarzan, since he had none of his
own. He would tend him carefully, feed him well, protect him as only Tarzan of
the Apes could protect his own, and teach him out of his half human, half bestial
lore the secrets of the jungle from its rotting surface vegetation to the high
tossed pinnacles of the forest's upper terraces.
* * *
* *
Tarzan uncoiled his rope, and shook out the noose. The two before
him, all ignorant of the near presence of that terrifying form, continued
preoccupied in the search for shellfish, poking about in the mud with short
sticks.
Tarzan stepped from the jungle
behind them; his noose lay open upon the ground beside him. There was a quick
movement of the right arm and the noose rose gracefully into the air, hovered
an instant above the head of the unsuspecting youth, then settled. As it
encompassed his body below the shoulders, Tarzan gave a quick jerk that
tightened it about the boy's arms, pinioning them to his sides. A scream of
terror broke from the lad's lips, and as his mother turned, affrighted at his
cry, she saw him being dragged quickly toward a great white giant who stood
just beneath the shade of a near-by tree, scarcely a dozen long paces from her.
With a savage cry of terror and
rage, the woman leaped fearlessly toward the ape-man. In her mien Tarzan saw
determination and courage which would shrink not even from death itself. She
was very hideous and frightful even when her face was in repose; but convulsed
by passion, her expression became terrifyingly fiendish. Even the ape-man drew
back, but more in revulsion than fear—fear he knew not.
Biting and kicking was the black
she's balu as Tarzan tucked him beneath his arm and vanished into the branches
hanging low above him, just as the infuriated mother dashed forward to seize
and do battle with him. And as he melted away into the depth of the jungle with
his still struggling prize, he meditated upon the possibilities which might lie
in the prowess of the Gomangani were the hes as formidable as the shes.
Once at a safe distance from the
despoiled mother and out of earshot of her screams and menaces, Tarzan paused
to inspect his prize, now so thoroughly terrorized that he had ceased his
struggles and his outcries.
The frightened child rolled his eyes
fearfully toward his captor, until the whites showed gleaming all about the
irises.
"I am Tarzan," said the
ape-man, in the vernacular of the anthropoids. "I will not harm you. You
are to be Tarzan's balu. Tarzan will protect you. He will feed you. The best in
the jungle shall be for Tarzan's balu, for Tarzan is a mighty hunter. None need
you fear, not even Numa, the lion, for Tarzan is a mighty fighter. None so
great as Tarzan, son of Kala. Do not fear."
But the child only whimpered and
trembled, for he did not understand the tongue of the great apes, and the voice
of Tarzan sounded to him like the barking and growling of a beast. Then, too,
he had heard stories of this bad, white forest god. It was he who had slain
Kulonga and others of the warriors of Mbonga, the chief. It was he who entered
the village stealthily, by magic, in the darkness of the night, to steal arrows
and poison, and frighten the women and the children and even the great
warriors. Doubtless this wicked god fed upon little boys. Had his mother not
said as much when he was naughty and she threatened to give him to the white
god of the jungle if he were not good? Little black Tibo shook as with ague.
"Are you cold,
Go-bu-balu?" asked Tarzan, using the simian equivalent of black he-baby in
lieu of a better name. "The sun is hot; why do you shiver?"
Tibo could not understand; but he
cried for his mamma and begged the great, white god to let him go, promising
always to be a good boy thereafter if his plea were granted. Tarzan shook his
head. Not a word could he understand. This would never do! He must teach Go-bu-balu
a language which sounded like talk. It was quite certain to Tarzan that
Go-bu-balu's speech was not talk at all. It sounded quite as senseless as the
chattering of the silly birds. It would be best, thought the ape-man, quickly
to get him among the tribe of Kerchak where he would hear the Mangani talking
among themselves. Thus he would soon learn an intelligible form of speech.
Tarzan rose to his feet upon the
swaying branch where he had halted far above the ground, and motioned to the
child to follow him; but Tibo only clung tightly to the bole of the tree and
wept. Being a boy, and a native African, he had, of course, climbed into trees
many times before this; but the idea of racing off through the forest, leaping
from one branch to another, as his captor, to his horror, had done when he had
carried Tibo away from his mother, filled his childish heart with terror.
Tarzan sighed. His newly acquired
balu had much indeed to learn. It was pitiful that a balu of his size and
strength should be so backward. He tried to coax Tibo to follow him; but the
child dared not, so Tarzan picked him up and carried him upon his back. Tibo no
longer scratched or bit. Escape seemed impossible. Even now, were he set upon
the ground, the chance was remote, he knew, that he could find his way back to
the village of Mbonga, the chief. Even if he could, there were the lions and
the leopards and the hyenas, any one of which, as Tibo was well aware, was
particularly fond of the meat of little black boys.
So far the terrible white god of the
jungle had offered him no harm. He could not expect even this much
consideration from the frightful, green-eyed man-eaters. It would be the lesser
of two evils, then, to let the white god carry him away without scratching and
biting, as he had done at first.
As Tarzan swung rapidly through the
trees, little Tibo closed his eyes in terror rather than look longer down into
the frightful abysses beneath. Never before in all his life had Tibo been so
frightened, yet as the white giant sped on with him through the forest there
stole over the child an inexplicable sensation of security as he saw how true
were the leaps of the ape-man, how unerring his grasp upon the swaying limbs
which gave him hand-hold, and then, too, there was safety in the middle
terraces of the forest, far above the reach of the dreaded lions.
And so Tarzan came to the clearing
where the tribe fed, dropping among them with his new balu clinging tightly to
his shoulders. He was fairly in the midst of them before Tibo spied a single
one of the great hairy forms, or before the apes realized that Tarzan was not
alone. When they saw the little Gomangani perched upon his back some of them
came forward in curiosity with upcurled lips and snarling mien.
An hour before little Tibo would have
said that he knew the uttermost depths of fear; but now, as he saw these
fearsome beasts surrounding him, he realized that all that had gone before was
as nothing by comparison. Why did the great white giant stand there so
unconcernedly? Why did he not flee before these horrid, hairy, tree men fell
upon them both and tore them to pieces? And then there came to Tibo a numbing
recollection. It was none other than the story he had heard passed from mouth
to mouth, fearfully, by the people of Mbonga, the chief, that this great white
demon of the jungle was naught other than a hairless ape, for had not he been
seen in company with these?
Tibo could only stare in wide-eyed
horror at the approaching apes. He saw their beetling brows, their great fangs,
their wicked eyes. He noted their mighty muscles rolling beneath their shaggy
hides. Their every attitude and expression was a menace. Tarzan saw this, too.
He drew Tibo around in front of him.
"This is Tarzan's
Go-bu-balu," he said. "Do not harm him, or Tarzan will kill
you," and he bared his own fangs in the teeth of the nearest ape.
"It is a Gomangani,"
replied the ape. "Let me kill it. It is a Gomangani. The Gomangani are our
enemies. Let me kill it."
"Go away," snarled Tarzan.
"I tell you, Gunto, it is Tarzan's balu. Go away or Tarzan will kill
you," and the ape-man took a step toward the advancing ape.
The latter sidled off, quite stiff
and haughty, after the manner of a dog which meets another and is too proud to
fight and too fearful to turn his back and run.
Next came Teeka, prompted by
curiosity. At her side skipped little Gazan. They were filled with wonder like
the others; but Teeka did not bare her fangs. Tarzan saw this and motioned that
she approach.
"Tarzan has a balu now,"
he said. "He and Teeka's balu can play together."
"It is a Gomangani, "
replied Teeka. "It will kill my balu. Take it away, Tarzan."
Tarzan laughed. "It could not
harm Pamba, the rat," he said. "It is but a little balu and very
frightened. Let Gazan play with it."
Teeka still was fearful, for with
all their mighty ferocity the great anthropoids are timid; but at last, assured
by her great confidence in Tarzan, she pushed Gazan forward toward the little
black boy. The small ape, guided by instinct, drew back toward its mother,
baring its small fangs and screaming in mingled fear and rage.
Tibo, too, showed no signs of
desiring a closer acquaintance with Gazan, so Tarzan gave up his efforts for
the time.
During the week which followed,
Tarzan found his time much occupied. His balu was a greater responsibility than
he had counted upon. Not for a moment did he dare leave it, since of all the
tribe, Teeka alone could have been depended upon to refrain from slaying the
hapless black had it not been for Tarzan's constant watchfulness. When the
ape-man hunted, he must carry Go-bu-balu about with him. It was irksome, and
then the little black seemed so stupid and fearful to Tarzan. It was quite
helpless against even the lesser of the jungle creatures. Tarzan wondered how
it had survived at all. He tried to teach it, and found a ray of hope in the
fact that Go-bu-balu had mastered a few words of the language of the anthropoids,
and that he could now cling to a high-tossed branch without screaming in fear;
but there was something about the child which worried Tarzan. He often had
watched the blacks within their village. He had seen the children playing, and
always there had been much laughter; but little Go-bu-balu never laughed. It
was true that Tarzan himself never laughed. Upon occasion he smiled, grimly,
but to laughter he was a stranger. The black, however, should have laughed,
reasoned the ape-man. It was the way of the Gomangani.
Also, he saw that the little fellow
often refused food and was growing thinner day by day. At times he surprised
the boy sobbing softly to himself. Tarzan tried to comfort him, even as fierce
Kala had comforted Tarzan when the ape-man was a balu, but all to no avail.
Go-bu-balu merely no longer feared Tarzan—that was all. He feared every other
living thing within the jungle. He feared the jungle days with their long
excursions through the dizzy tree tops. He feared the jungle nights with their
swaying, perilous couches far above the ground, and the grunting and coughing
of the great carnivora prowling beneath him.
Tarzan did not know what to do. His
heritage of English blood rendered it a difficult thing even to consider a
surrender of his project, though he was forced to admit to himself that his
balu was not all that he had hoped. Though he was faithful to his self-imposed
task, and even found that he had grown to like Go-bu-balu, he could not deceive
himself into believing that he felt for it that fierce heat of passionate
affection which Teeka revealed for Gazan, and which the black mother had shown
for Go-bu-balu.
The little black boy from cringing
terror at the sight of Tarzan passed by degrees into trustfulness and
admiration. Only kindness had he ever received at the hands of the great white
devil-god, yet he had seen with what ferocity his kindly captor could deal with
others. He had seen him leap upon a certain he-ape which persisted in
attempting to seize and slay Go-bu-balu. He had seen the strong, white teeth of
the ape-man fastened in the neck of his adversary, and the mighty muscles
tensed in battle. He had heard the savage, bestial snarls and roars of combat,
and he had realized with a shudder that he could not differentiate between
those of his guardian and those of the hairy ape.
He had seen Tarzan bring down a
buck, just as Numa, the lion, might have done, leaping upon its back and
fastening his fangs in the creature's neck. Tibo had shuddered at the sight,
but he had thrilled, too, and for the first time there entered his dull,
Negroid mind a vague desire to emulate his savage foster parent. But Tibo, the
little black boy, lacked the divine spark which had permitted Tarzan, the white
boy, to benefit by his training in the ways of the fierce jungle. In
imagination he was wanting, and imagination is but another name for
super-intelligence.
Imagination it is which builds
bridges, and cities, and empires. The beasts know it not, the blacks only a
little, while to one in a hundred thousand of earth's dominant race it is given
as a gift from heaven that man may not perish from the earth.
While Tarzan pondered his problem
concerning the future of his balu, Fate was arranging to take the matter out of
his hands. Momaya, Tibo's mother, grief-stricken at the loss of her boy, had
consulted the tribal witch-doctor, but to no avail. The medicine he made was
not good medicine, for though Momaya paid him two goats for it, it did not
bring back Tibo, nor even indicate where she might search for him with
reasonable assurance of finding him. Momaya, being of a short temper and of
another people, had little respect for the witch-doctor of her husband's tribe,
and so, when he suggested that a further payment of two more fat goats would
doubtless enable him to make stronger medicine, she promptly loosed her
shrewish tongue upon him, and with such good effect that he was glad to take
himself off with his zebra's tail and his pot of magic.
When he had gone and Momaya had
succeeded in partially subduing her anger, she gave herself over to thought, as
she so often had done since the abduction of her Tibo, in the hope that she
finally might discover some feasible means of locating him, or at least
assuring herself as to whether he were alive or dead.
It was known to the blacks that
Tarzan did not eat the flesh of man, for he had slain more than one of their
number, yet never tasted the flesh of any. Too, the bodies always had been
found, sometimes dropping as though from the clouds to alight in the center of
the village. As Tibo's body had not been found, Momaya argued that he still
lived, but where?
Then it was that there came to her
mind a recollection of Bukawai, the unclean, who dwelt in a cave in the
hillside to the north, and who it was well known entertained devils in his evil
lair. Few, if any, had the temerity to visit old Bukawai, firstly because of
fear of his black magic and the two hyenas who dwelt with him and were commonly
known to be devils masquerading, and secondly because of the loathsome disease
which had caused Bukawai to be an outcast—a disease which was slowly eating
away his face.
Now it was that Momaya reasoned
shrewdly that if any might know the whereabouts of her Tibo, it would be
Bukawai, who was in friendly intercourse with gods and demons, since a demon or
a god it was who had stolen her baby; but even her great mother love was sorely
taxed to find the courage to send her forth into the black jungle toward the
distant hills and the uncanny abode of Bukawai, the unclean, and his devils.
Mother love, however, is one of the
human passions which closely approximates to the dignity of an irresistible
force. It drives the frail flesh of weak women to deeds of heroic measure.
Momaya was neither frail nor weak, physically, but she was a woman, an
ignorant, superstitious, African savage. She believed in devils, in black
magic, and in witchcraft. To Momaya, the jungle was inhabited by far more
terrifying things than lions and leopards—horrifying, nameless things which
possessed the power of wreaking frightful harm under various innocent guises.
From one of the warriors of the
village, whom she knew to have once stumbled upon the lair of Bukawai, the
mother of Tibo learned how she might find it—near a spring of water which rose
in a small rocky canon between two hills, the easternmost of which was easily
recognizable because of a huge granite boulder which rested upon its summit.
The westerly hill was lower than its companion, and was quite bare of
vegetation except for a single mimosa tree which grew just a little below its
summit.
These two hills, the man assured
her, could be seen for some distance before she reached them, and together
formed an excellent guide to her destination. He warned her, however, to
abandon so foolish and dangerous an adventure, emphasizing what she already
quite well knew, that if she escaped harm at the hands of Bukawai and his
demons, the chances were that she would not be so fortunate with the great
carnivora of the jungle through which she must pass going and returning.
The warrior even went to Momaya's
husband, who, in turn, having little authority over the vixenish lady of his
choice, went to Mbonga, the chief. The latter summoned Momaya, threatening her
with the direst punishment should she venture forth upon so unholy an
excursion. The old chief's interest in the matter was due solely to that
age-old alliance which exists between church and state. The local witch-doctor,
knowing his own medicine better than any other knew it, was jealous of all
other pretenders to accomplishments in the black art. He long had heard of the
power of Bukawai, and feared lest, should he succeed in recovering Momaya's
lost child, much of the tribal patronage and consequent fees would be diverted
to the unclean one. As Mbonga received, as chief, a certain proportion of the
witch-doctor's fees and could expect nothing from Bukawai, his heart and soul
were, quite naturally, wrapped up in the orthodox church.
But if Momaya could view with
intrepid heart an excursion into the jungle and a visit to the fear-haunted
abode of Bukawai, she was not likely to be deterred by threats of future
punishment at the hands of old Mbonga, whom she secretly despised. Yet she
appeared to accede to his injunctions, returning to her hut in silence.
She would have preferred starting
upon her quest by day-light, but this was now out of the question, since she
must carry food and a weapon of some sort—things which she never could pass out
of the village with by day without being subjected to curious questioning that
surely would come immediately to the ears of Mbonga.
So Momaya bided her time until
night, and just before the gates of the village were closed, she slipped
through into the darkness and the jungle. She was much frightened, but she set
her face resolutely toward the north, and though she paused often to listen,
breathlessly, for the huge cats which, here, were her greatest terror, she
nevertheless continued her way staunchly for several hours, until a low moan a
little to her right and behind her brought her to a sudden stop.
With palpitating heart the woman
stood, scarce daring to breathe, and then, very faintly but unmistakable to her
keen ears, came the stealthy crunching of twigs and grasses beneath padded
feet.
All about Momaya grew the giant
trees of the tropical jungle, festooned with hanging vines and mosses. She
seized upon the nearest and started to clamber, apelike, to the branches above.
As she did so, there was a sudden rush of a great body behind her, a menacing
roar that caused the earth to tremble, and something crashed into the very
creepers to which she was clinging—but below her.
Momaya drew herself to safety among
the leafy branches and thanked the foresight which had prompted her to bring
along the dried human ear which hung from a cord about her neck. She always had
known that that ear was good medicine. It had been given her, when a girl, by
the witch-doctor of her own tribe, and was nothing like the poor, weak medicine
of Mbonga's witch-doctor.
All night Momaya clung to her perch,
for although the lion sought other prey after a short time, she dared not
descend into the darkness again, for fear she might encounter him or another of
his kind; but at daylight she clambered down and resumed her way.
Tarzan of the Apes, finding that his
balu never ceased to give evidence of terror in the presence of the apes of the
tribe, and also that most of the adult apes were a constant menace to
Go-bu-balu's life, so that Tarzan dared not leave him alone with them, took to
hunting with the little black boy farther and farther from the stamping grounds
of the anthropoids.
Little by little his absences from
the tribe grew in length as he wandered farther away from them, until finally
he found himself a greater distance to the north than he ever before had
hunted, and with water and ample game and fruit, he felt not at all inclined to
return to the tribe.
Little Go-bu-balu gave evidences of
a greater interest in life, an interest which varied in direct proportion to
the distance he was from the apes of Kerchak. He now trotted along behind
Tarzan when the ape-man went upon the ground, and in the trees he even did his
best to follow his mighty foster parent. The boy was still sad and lonely. His
thin, little body had grown steadily thinner since he had come among the apes,
for while, as a young cannibal, he was not overnice in the matter of diet, he
found it not always to his taste to stomach the weird things which tickled the
palates of epicures among the apes.
His large eyes were very large
indeed now, his cheeks sunken, and every rib of his emaciated body plainly
discernible to whomsoever should care to count them. Constant terror, perhaps,
had had as much to do with his physical condition as had improper food. Tarzan
noticed the change and was worried. He had hoped to see his balu wax sturdy and
strong. His disappointment was great. In only one respect did Go-bu-balu seem
to progress—he readily was mastering the language of the apes. Even now he and
Tarzan could converse in a fairly satisfactory manner by supplementing the meager
ape speech with signs; but for the most part, Go-bu-balu was silent other than
to answer questions put to him. His great sorrow was yet too new and too
poignant to be laid aside even momentarily. Always he pined for
Momaya—shrewish, hideous, repulsive, perhaps, she would have been to you or me,
but to Tibo she was mamma, the personification of that one great love which
knows no selfishness and which does not consume itself in its own fires.
As the two hunted, or rather as
Tarzan hunted and Go-bu-balu tagged along in his wake, the ape-man noticed many
things and thought much. Once they came upon Sabor moaning in the tall grasses.
About her romped and played two little balls of fur, but her eyes were for one
which lay between her great forepaws and did not romp, one who never would romp
again.
Tarzan read aright the anguish and
the suffering of the huge mother cat. He had been minded to bait her. It was to
do this that he had sneaked silently through the trees until he had come almost
above her, but something held the ape-man as he saw the lioness grieving over
her dead cub. With the acquisition of Go-bu-balu, Tarzan had come to realize
the responsibilities and sorrows of parentage, without its joys. His heart went
out to Sabor as it might not have done a few weeks before. As he watched her,
there rose quite unbidden before him a vision of Momaya, the skewer through the
septum of her nose, her pendulous under lip sagging beneath the weight which
dragged it down. Tarzan saw not her unloveliness; he saw only the same anguish
that was Sabor's, and he winced. That strange functioning of the mind which
sometimes is called association of ideas snapped Teeka and Gazan before the
ape-man's mental vision. What if one should come and take Gazan from Teeka.
Tarzan uttered a low and ominous growl as though Gazan were his own. Go-bu-balu
glanced here and there apprehensively, thinking that Tarzan had espied an
enemy. Sabor sprang suddenly to her feet, her yellow-green eyes blazing, her
tail lashing as she cocked her ears, and raising her muzzle, sniffed the air
for possible danger. The two little cubs, which had been playing, scampered
quickly to her, and standing beneath her, peered out from between her forelegs,
their big ears upstanding, their little heads cocked first upon one side and
then upon the other.
With a shake of his black shock,
Tarzan turned away and resumed his hunting in another direction; but all day
there rose one after another, above the threshold of his objective mind, memory
portraits of Sabor, of Momaya, and of Teeka—a lioness, a cannibal, and a
she-ape, yet to the ape-man they were identical through motherhood.
It was noon of the third day when
Momaya came within sight of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean. The old
witch-doctor had rigged a framework of interlaced boughs to close the mouth of
the cave from predatory beasts. This was now set to one side, and the black
cavern beyond yawned mysterious and repellent. Momaya shivered as from a cold
wind of the rainy season. No sign of life appeared about the cave, yet Momaya
experienced that uncanny sensation as of unseen eyes regarding her
malevolently. Again she shuddered. She tried to force her unwilling feet onward
toward the cave, when from its depths issued an uncanny sound that was neither
brute nor human, a weird sound that was akin to mirthless laughter.
With a stifled scream, Momaya turned
and fled into the jungle. For a hundred yards she ran before she could control
her terror, and then she paused, listening. Was all her labor, were all the
terrors and dangers through which she had passed to go for naught? She tried to
steel herself to return to the cave, but again fright overcame her.
Saddened, disheartened, she turned
slowly upon the back trail toward the village of Mbonga. Her young shoulders
now were drooped like those of an old woman who bears a great burden of many
years with their accumulated pains and sorrows, and she walked with tired feet
and a halting step. The spring of youth was gone from Momaya.
For another hundred yards she
dragged her weary way, her brain half paralyzed from dumb terror and suffering,
and then there came to her the memory of a little babe that suckled at her
breast, and of a slim boy who romped, laughing, about her, and they were both
Tibo—her Tibo!
Her shoulders straightened. She
shook her savage head, and she turned about and walked boldly back to the mouth
of the cave of Bukawai, the unclean —of Bukawai, the witch-doctor.
Again, from the interior of the cave
came the hideous laughter that was not laughter. This time Momaya recognized it
for what it was, the strange cry of a hyena. No more did she shudder, but she
held her spear ready and called aloud to Bukawai to come out.
Instead of Bukawai came the
repulsive head of a hyena. Momaya poked at it with her spear, and the ugly,
sullen brute drew back with an angry growl. Again Momaya called Bukawai by
name, and this time there came an answer in mumbling tones that were scarce
more human than those of the beast.
"Who comes to Bukawai?"
queried the voice.
"It is Momaya," replied
the woman; "Momaya from the village of Mbonga, the chief.
"What do you want?"
"I want good medicine, better
medicine than Mbonga's witch-doctor can make," replied Momaya. "The
great, white, jungle god has stolen my Tibo, and I want medicine to bring him
back, or to find where he is hidden that I may go and get him."
"Who is Tibo?" asked
Bukawai.
Momaya told him.
"Bukawai's medicine is very
strong," said the voice. "Five goats and a new sleeping mat are
scarce enough in exchange for Bukawai's medicine."
"Two goats are enough,"
said Momaya, for the spirit of barter is strong in the breasts of the blacks.
The pleasure of haggling over the
price was a sufficiently potent lure to draw Bukawai to the mouth of the cave.
Momaya was sorry when she saw him that he had not remained within. There are
some things too horrible, too hideous, too repulsive for description—Bukawai's
face was of these. When Momaya saw him she understood why it was that he was
almost inarticulate.
Beside him were two hyenas, which
rumor had said were his only and constant companions. They made an excellent
trio—the most repulsive of beasts with the most repulsive of humans.
"Five goats and a new sleeping
mat," mumbled Bukawai.
"Two fat goats and a sleeping
mat." Momaya raised her bid; but Bukawai was obdurate. He stuck for the
five goats and the sleeping mat for a matter of half an hour, while the hyenas
sniffed and growled and laughed hideously. Momaya was determined to give all
that Bukawai asked if she could do no better, but haggling is second nature to
black barterers, and in the end it partly repaid her, for a compromise finally
was reached which included three fat goats, a new sleeping mat, and a piece of
copper wire.
"Come back tonight," said
Bukawai, "when the moon is two hours in the sky. Then will I make the
strong medicine which shall bring Tibo back to you. Bring with you the three
fat goats, the new sleeping mat, and the piece of copper wire the length of a
large man's forearm."
"I cannot bring them,"
said Momaya. "You will have to come after them. When you have restored
Tibo to me, you shall have them all at the village of Mbonga."
Bukawai shook his head.
"I will make no medicine,"
he said, "until I have the goats and the mat and the copper wire."
Momaya pleaded and threatened, but
all to no avail. Finally, she turned away and started off through the jungle
toward the village of Mbonga. How she could get three goats and a sleeping mat
out of the village and through the jungle to the cave of Bukawai, she did not
know, but that she would do it somehow she was quite positive—she would do it
or die. Tibo must be restored to her.
Tarzan coming lazily through the
jungle with little Go-bu-balu, caught the scent of Bara, the deer. Tarzan
hungered for the flesh of Bara. Naught tickled his palate so greatly; but to
stalk Bara with Go-bu-balu at his heels, was out of the question, so he hid the
child in the crotch of a tree where the thick foliage screened him from view, and
set off swiftly and silently upon the spoor of Bara.
Tibo alone was more terrified than
Tibo even among the apes. Real and apparent dangers are less disconcerting than
those which we imagine, and only the gods of his people knew how much Tibo
imagined.
He had been but a short time in his
hiding place when he heard something approaching through the jungle. He
crouched closer to the limb upon which he lay and prayed that Tarzan would
return quickly. His wide eyes searched the jungle in the direction of the
moving creature.
What if it was a leopard that had
caught his scent! It would be upon him in a minute. Hot tears flowed from the
large eyes of little Tibo. The curtain of jungle foliage rustled close at hand.
The thing was but a few paces from his tree! His eyes fairly popped from his
black face as he watched for the appearance of the dread creature which
presently would thrust a snarling countenance from between the vines and
creepers.
And then the curtain parted and a
woman stepped into full view. With a gasping cry, Tibo tumbled from his perch
and raced toward her. Momaya suddenly started back and raised her spear, but a
second later she cast it aside and caught the thin body in her strong arms.
Crushing it to her, she cried and
laughed all at one and the same time, and hot tears of joy, mingled with the
tears of Tibo, trickled down the crease between her naked breasts.
Disturbed by the noise so close at
hand, there arose from his sleep in a near-by thicket Numa, the lion. He looked
through the tangled underbrush and saw the black woman and her young. He licked
his chops and measured the distance between them and himself. A short charge
and a long leap would carry him upon them. He flicked the end of his tail and
sighed.
A vagrant breeze, swirling suddenly
in the wrong direction, carried the scent of Tarzan to the sensitive nostrils
of Bara, the deer. There was a startled tensing of muscles and cocking of ears,
a sudden dash, and Tarzan's meat was gone. The ape-man angrily shook his head
and turned back toward the spot where he had left Go-bu-balu. He came softly,
as was his way. Before he reached the spot he heard strange sounds—the sound of
a woman laughing and of a woman weeping, and the two which seemed to come from
one throat were mingled with the convulsive sobbing of a child. Tarzan
hastened, and when Tarzan hastened, only the birds and the wind went faster.
And as Tarzan approached the sounds,
he heard another, a deep sigh. Momaya did not hear it, nor did Tibo; but the
ears of Tarzan were as the ears of Bara, the deer. He heard the sigh, and he
knew, so he unloosed the heavy spear which dangled at his back. Even as he sped
through the branches of the trees, with the same ease that you or I might take
out a pocket handkerchief as we strolled nonchalantly down a lazy country lane,
Tarzan of the Apes took the spear from its thong that it might be ready against
any emergency.
Numa, the lion, did not rush madly
to attack. He reasoned again, and reason told him that already the prey was
his, so he pushed his great bulk through the foliage and stood eyeing his meat
with baleful, glaring eyes.
Momaya saw him and shrieked, drawing
Tibo closer to her breast. To have found her child and to lose him, all in a
moment! She raised her spear, throwing her hand far back of her shoulder. Numa
roared and stepped slowly forward. Momaya cast her weapon. It grazed the tawny
shoulder, inflicting a flesh wound which aroused all the terrific bestiality of
the carnivore, and the lion charged.
Momaya tried to close her eyes, but
could not. She saw the flashing swiftness of the huge, oncoming death, and then
she saw something else. She saw a mighty, naked white man drop as from the
heavens into the path of the charging lion. She saw the muscles of a great arm
flash in the light of the equatorial sun as it filtered, dappling, through the
foliage above. She saw a heavy hunting spear hurtle through the air to meet the
lion in midleap.
Numa brought up upon his haunches,
roaring terribly and striking at the spear which protruded from his breast. His
great blows bent and twisted the weapon. Tarzan, crouching and with hunting
knife in hand, circled warily about the frenzied cat. Momaya, wide-eyed, stood
rooted to the spot, watching, fascinated.
In sudden fury Numa hurled himself
toward the ape-man, but the wiry creature eluded the blundering charge,
side-stepping quickly only to rush in upon his foe. Twice the hunting blade
flashed in the air. Twice it fell upon the back of Numa, already weakening from
the spear point so near his heart. The second stroke of the blade pierced far
into the beast's spine, and with a last convulsive sweep of the fore-paws, in a
vain attempt to reach his tormentor, Numa sprawled upon the ground, paralyzed
and dying.
Bukawai, fearful lest he should lose
any recompense, followed Momaya with the intention of persuading her to part
with her ornaments of copper and iron against her return with the price of the
medicine—to pay, as it were, for an option on his services as one pays a
retaining fee to an attorney, for, like an attorney, Bukawai knew the value of
his medicine and that it was well to collect as much as possible in advance.
The witch-doctor came upon the scene
as Tarzan leaped to meet the lion's charge. He saw it all and marveled,
guessing immediately that this must be the strange white demon concerning whom
he had heard vague rumors before Momaya came to him.
Momaya, now that the lion was past
harming her or hers, gazed with new terror upon Tarzan. It was he who had
stolen her Tibo. Doubtless he would attempt to steal him again. Momaya hugged
the boy close to her. She was determined to die this time rather than suffer
Tibo to be taken from her again.
Tarzan eyed them in silence. The
sight of the boy clinging, sobbing, to his mother aroused within his savage
breast a melancholy loneliness. There was none thus to cling to Tarzan, who
yearned so for the love of someone, of something.
At last Tibo looked up, because of
the quiet that had fallen upon the jungle, and saw Tarzan. He did not shrink.
"Tarzan," he said, in the
speech of the great apes of the tribe of Kerchak, "do not take me from
Momaya, my mother. Do not take me again to the lair of the hairy, tree men, for
I fear Taug and Gunto and the others. Let me stay with Momaya, O Tarzan, God of
the Jungle! Let me stay with Momaya, my mother, and to the end of our days we
will bless you and put food before the gates of the village of Mbonga that you
may never hunger."
Tarzan sighed.
"Go,"
he said, "back to the village of Mbonga, and Tarzan will follow to see
that no harm befalls you."
Tibo translated the words to his
mother, and the two turned their backs upon the ape-man and started off toward
home. In the heart of Momaya was a great fear and a great exultation, for never
before had she walked with God, and never had she been so happy. She strained
little Tibo to her, stroking his thin cheek. Tarzan saw and sighed again.
"For Teeka there is Teeka's
balu," he soliloquized; "for Sabor there are balus, and for the
she-Gomangani, and for Bara, and for Manu, and even for Pamba, the rat; but for
Tarzan there can be none—neither a she nor a balu. Tarzan of the Apes is a man,
and it must be that man walks alone."
Bukawai saw them go, and he mumbled
through his rotting face, swearing a great oath that he would yet have the
three fat goats, the new sleeping mat, and the bit of copper wire.
