Tarzan the Invincible t-13

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  The noise that he heard was little more than an imperceptible rustling, but presently it assumed a new volume and a new significance, so that now he was sure that it was someone running rapidly along the trail, and not one but two-he distinctly heard the footfalls of the heavier creature mingling with those he had first heard.

  And then he heard a man's voice cry "Stop!" and now the sounds were very close to him, just around the first bend ahead. The sound of running feet stopped, to be followed by that of a scuffle and strange oaths in a man's voice.

  And then a woman's voice spoke, "Let me go! You will never get me where you are taking me alive."

  "Then I'll take you for myself now," said the man.

  Colt had heard enough. There had been something familiar in the tones of the woman's voice. Silently he dropped to the trail, drawing his dagger, and stepped quickly toward the sounds of the altercation. As he rounded the bend in the trail, he saw just before him only a man's back-by thob and thorib an Arab-but beyond the man and in his clutches Colt knew the woman was hidden by the flowing robes of her assailant.

  Leaping forward he seized the fellow by the shoulder and jerked him suddenly about; and as the man faced him Colt saw that it was Abu Batn, and now, too, he saw why the voice of the woman had seemed familiar-she was Zora Drinov.

  Abu Batn purpled with rage at the interruption, but great as was his anger so, too, was his surprise as he recognized the American. Just for an instant he thought that possibly this was the advance guard of a party of searchers and avengers from Zveri's camp, but when he had time to observe the unkempt, disheveled, unarmed condition of Colt he realized that the man was alone and doubtless lost.

  "Dog of a Nasrany!" he cried, jerking away from Colt's grasp. "Lay not your filthy hand upon a true believer." At the same time he moved to draw his pistol, but in that instant Colt was upon him again, and the two men went down in the narrow trail, the American on top.

  What happened then, happened very quickly. As Abu Batn drew his pistol, he caught the hammer in the folds of his thob, so that the weapon was discharged. The bullet went harmlessly into the ground, but the report warned Colt of his imminent danger, and in self defense he ran his blade through the sheykh's throat.

  As he rose slowly from the body of the sheykh, Zora Drinov grasped him by the arm. "Quick!" she said. "That shot will bring the others. They must not find us."

  He did not wait to question her, but, stooping, quickly salvaged Abu Batn's weapons and ammunition, including a long musket that lay in the trail beside him; and then with Zora in the lead they ran swiftly up the trail down which he had just come.

  Presently, hearing no indication of pursuit, Colt halted the girl.

  "Can you climb?" he asked.

  "Yes," she replied. "Why?"

  "We are going to take to the trees," he said. "We can go into the jungle a short distance and throw them off the trail."

  "Good!" she said, and with his assistance clambered into the branches of a tree beneath which they stood.

  Fortunately for them, several large trees grew close together so that they were able to make their way with comparative ease a full hundred feet from the trail, where, climbing high into the branches of a great tree, they were effectually hidden from sight in all directions.

  When at last they were seated side by side in a great crotch, Zora turned toward Colt. "Comrade Colt!" she said. "What has happened? What are you doing here alone? Were you looking for me?"

  The man grinned. "I was looking for the whole party," he said. "I have seen no one since we entered Opar. Where is the camp, and why was Abu Batn pursuing you?"

  "We are a long way from the camp," replied Zora. "I do not know how far, though I could return to it, if it were not for the Arabs." And then briefly she told the story of Abu Batn's treachery and of her captivity. "The sheykh made a temporary camp shortly after noon today. The men were very tired, and for the first time in days they relaxed their vigilance over me. I realized that at last the moment I had been awaiting so anxiously had arrived, and while they slept I escaped into the jungle. My absence must have been discovered shortly after I left, and Abu Batn overtook me. The rest you witnessed."

  "Fate functioned deviously and altogether wonderfully," he said. "To think that your only chance of rescue hinged upon the contingency of my capture at Opar!"

  She smiled. "Fate reaches back further than that," she said. "Suppose you had not been born?"

  "Then Abu Batn would have carried you off to the harem of some black sultan, or perhaps another man would have been captured at Opar."

  "I am glad that you were born," said Zora.

  "Thank you," said Colt.

  While listening for signs of pursuit, they conversed in low tones, Colt narrating in detail the events leading up to his capture, though some of the details of his escape he omitted through a sense of loyalty to the nameless girl who had aided him. Neither did he stress Zveri's lack of control over his men, or what Colt considered his inexcusable cowardice in leaving himself and Romero to their fate within the walls of Opar without attempting to succor them, for he believed that the girl was Zveri's sweetheart and he did not wish to offend her.

  "What became of Comrade Romero?" she asked.

  "I do not know," he said. "The last I saw of him he was standing his ground, fighting off those crooked little demons."

  "Alone?" she asked.

  "I was pretty well occupied myself," he said.

  "I do not mean that," she replied. "Of course, I know you were there with Romero, but who else?"

  "The others had not arrived," said Colt.

  "You mean you two went in alone?" she asked.

  Colt hesitated. "You see," he said, "the blacks refused to enter the city, so the rest of us had to go in or abandon the attempt to get the treasures."

  "But only you and Miguel did go in. Is that not true?" she demanded.

  "I passed out so soon, you see," he said with a laugh, "that really I do not know exactly what did happen."

  The girl's eyes narrowed. "It was beastly," she said.

  As they talked, Colt's eyes were often upon the girl's face. How lovely she was, even beneath the rags and the dirt that were the outward symbols of her captivity among the Aarabs. She was a little thinner than when he had last seen her, and her eyes were tired and her face drawn from privation and worry. But, perhaps, by very contrast her beauty was the more startling. It seemed incredible that she could love the coarse, loud-mouthed Zveri, who was her antithesis in every respect.

  Presently she broke a short silence. "We must try to get back to the base camp," she said. "It is vital that I be there. So much must be done, so much that no one else can do."

  "You think only of the cause," he said; "never of yourself. You are very loyal."

  "Yes," she said in a low voice. "I am loyal to the thing I have sworn to accomplish."

  "I am afraid," he said, "that for the past few days I have been thinking more of my own welfare than of that of the proletariat."

  "I am afraid that at heart you are still bourgeois," she said, "and that you cannot yet help looking upon the proletariat with contempt."

  "What makes you say that?" he asked. "I am sure that I said nothing to warrant it."

  "Often a slight unconscious inflection in the use of a word alters the significance of a whole statement, revealing a speaker's secret thoughts."

  Colt laughed good naturedly. "You are a dangerous person to talk to," he said. "Am I to be shot at sunrise?"

  She looked at him seriously. "You are different from the others," she said. "I think you could never imagine how suspicious they are. What I have said is only in the way of warning you to watch your every word when you are talking with them. Some of them are narrow and ignorant, and they are already suspicious of you because of your antecedents. They are sensitively jealous of a new importance which they believe their class has attained."

  "Their class?" he asked. "I thought you told me once that you were of the pro
letariat?"

  If he had thought that he had surprised her and that she would show embarrassment, he was mistaken. She met his eyes squarely and without wavering. "I am," she said, "but I can still see the weaknesses of my class."

  He looked at her steadily for a long moment, the shadow of a smile touching his lips. "I do not believe-"

  "Why do you stop?" she asked. "What is it that you do not believe?"

  "Forgive me," he said. "I was starting to think aloud."

  "Be careful, Comrade Colt," she warned him. "Thinking aloud is sometimes fatal"; but she tempered her words with a smile.

  Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of the voices of men in the distance. "They are coming," said the girl.

  Colt nodded, and the two remained silent, listening to the sounds of approaching voices and footsteps. The men came abreast of them and halted; and Zora, who understood the Aarab tongue, heard one of them say, "The trail stops here. They have gone into the jungle."

  "Who can the man be who is with her?" asked another.

  "It is a Nasrany. I can tell by the imprint of his feet," said another.

  "They would go toward the river," said a third. "That is the way that I should go if I were trying to escape."

  "Wullah! You speak words of wisdom," said the first speaker. "We will spread out here and search toward the river; but look out for the Nasrany. He has the pistol and the musket of the sheykh."

  The two fugitives heard the sound of pursuit diminishing in the distance as the Aarabs forced their way into the jungle toward the river. "I think we had better get out of this," said Colt; "and while it may be pretty hard going, I believe that we had better stick to the brush for awhile and keep on away from the river."

  "Yes," replied Zora, "for that is the general direction in which the camp lies." And so they commenced their long and weary march in search of their comrades.

  They were still pushing through dense jungle when night overtook them. Their clothes were in rags and their bodies scratched and torn, mute and painful reminders of the thorny way that they had traversed.

  Hungry and thirsty they made a dry camp among the branches of a tree, where Colt built a rude platform for the girl, while he prepared to sleep upon the ground at the foot of the great bole. But to this, Zora would not listen.

  "That will not do at all," she said. "We are in no position to permit ourselves to be the victims of every silly convention that would ordinarily order our lives in civilized surroundings. I appreciate your thoughtful consideration, but I would rather have you up here in the tree with me than down there where the first hunting lion that passed might get you." And so with the girl's help Colt built another platform close to the one that he had built for her; and as darkness fell, they stretched their tired bodies on their rude couches and sought to sleep.

  Presently Colt dozed, and in his dream he saw the slender figure of a star-eyed goddess, whose cheeks were wet with tears, but when he took her in his arms and kissed her he saw that she was Zora Drinov; and then a hideous sound from the jungle below awakened him with a start, so that he sat up, seizing the musket of the sheykh in readiness.

  "A hunting lion," said the girl in a low voice.

  "Phew!" exclaimed Colt. "I must have been asleep, for that certainly gave me a start."

  "Yes, you were asleep," said the girl. "I heard you talking," and he felt that he detected laughter in her voice.

  "What was I saying?" asked Colt.

  "Maybe you wouldn't want to hear. It might embarrass you," she told him.

  "No. Come ahead. Tell me."

  "You said 'I love you.'"

  "Did I, really?"

  "Yes. I wonder whom you were talking to," she said, banteringly.

  "I wonder," said Colt, recalling that in his dream the figure of one girl had merged into that of another.

  The lion, hearing their voices moved away growling. He was not hunting the hated man-things.

  Chapter 12: Down Trails of Terror

  SLOW days dragged by for the man and woman searching for their comrades-days filled with fatiguing effort, most of which was directed toward the procuring of food and water for their sustenance. Increasingly was Colt impressed by the character and personality of his companion. With apprehension he noticed that she was gradually weakening beneath the strain of fatigue and the scant and inadequate food that he had been able to procure for her. But yet she kept a brave front and tried to hide her condition from him. Never once had she complained. Never by word or look had she reproached him for his inability to procure sufficient food, a failure which he looked upon as indicative of inefficiency. She did not know that he himself often went hungry that she might eat, telling her when he returned with food that he had eaten his share where he had found it, a deception that was made possible by the fact that when he hunted he often left Zora to rest in some place of comparative security, that she might not be subjected to needless exertion.

  He had left her thus today, safe in a great tree beside a winding stream. She was very tired. It seemed to her that now she was always tired. The thought of continuing the march appalled her, and yet she knew that it must be undertaken. She wondered how much longer she could go on before she sank exhausted for the last time. It was not, however, for herself that she was most concerned, but for this man-this scion of wealth, and capitalism, and power, whose constant consideration and cheerfulness and tenderness had been a revelation to her. She knew that when she could go no further, he would not leave her and that thus his chances of escape from the grim jungle would be jeopardized and perhaps lost forever because of her. She hoped, for his sake, that death would come quickly to her that, thus relieved of responsibility, he might move on more rapidly in search of that elusive camp that seemed to her now little more than a meaningless myth. But from the thought of death she shrank, not because of the fear of death, as well might have been the case, but for an entirely new reason, the sudden realization of which gave her a distinct shock. The tragedy of this sudden self-awakening left her numb with terror. It was a thought that must be put from her, one that she must not entertain even for an instant; and yet it persisted-persisted with a dull insistency that brought tears to her eyes.

  Colt had gone farther afield than usual this morning in his search for food, for he had sighted an antelope; and, his imagination inflamed by the contemplation of so much meat in a single kill and what it would mean for Zora, he clung doggedly to the trail, lured further on by an occasional glimpse of his quarry in the distance.

  The antelope was only vaguely aware of an enemy, for he was upwind from Colt and had not caught his scent, while the occasional glimpses he had had of the man had served mostly to arouse his curiosity: so that though he moved away he stopped often and turned back in an effort to satisfy his wonderment. But presently he waited a moment too long. In his desperation, Colt chanced a long shot; and as the animal dropped, the man could not stifle a loud cry of exultation.

  As time, that she had no means of measuring, dragged on, Zora grew increasingly apprehensive on Colt's account. Never before had he left her for so long a time, so that she began to construct all sorts of imaginary calamities that might have overtaken him. She wished now that she had gone with him. If she had thought it possible to track him, she would have followed him; but she knew that that was impossible. However, her forced inactivity made her restless. Her cramped position in the tree became unendurable; and then, suddenly assailed by thirst, she lowered herself to the ground and walked toward the river.

  When she had drunk and was about to return to the tree, she heard the sound of something approaching from the direction in which Colt had gone. Instantly her heart leaped with gladness, her depression and even much of her fatigue seemed to vanish, and she realized suddenly how very lonely she had been without him. How dependent we are upon the society of our fellow-men, we seldom realize until we become the victims of enforced solitude. There were tears of happiness in Zora Drinov's eyes as she advanced to meet C
olt. Then the bushes before her parted, and there stepped into view, before her horrified gaze, a monstrous, hairy ape.

  To-yat, the king, was as much surprised as the girl, but his reactions were almost opposite. It was with no horror that he viewed this soft, white she-Mangani. To the girl there was naught but ferocity in his mien, though in his breast was an entirely different emotion. He lumbered toward her; and then, as though released from a momentary paralysis, Zora turned to flee. But how futilely, she realized an instant later as a hairy paw gripped her roughly by the shoulder. For an instant she had forgotten the sheykh's pistol that Colt always left with her for self-protection. Jerking it from its holster, she turned upon the beast; but To-yat, seeing in the weapon a club with which she intended to attack him, wrenched it from her grasp and hurled it aside; and then, though she struggled and fought to regain her freedom, he lifted her lightly to his hip and lumbered off into the jungle in the direction that he had been going.

  Colt tarried at his kill only long enough to remove the feet, the head and the viscera, that he might by that much reduce the weight of the burden that he must carry back to camp, for he was quite well aware that his privation had greatly reduced his strength.