8
THE SOUL OF NUMBER 13
Scarcely had the Ithaca cleared the reef which lies almost across themouth of the little harbor where she had been moored for so many monthsthan the tempest broke upon her in all its terrific fury. Bududreenwas no mean sailor, but he was short handed, nor is it reasonable tosuppose that even with a full crew he could have weathered the terrificgale which beat down upon the hapless vessel. Buffeted by great waves,and stripped of every shred of canvas by the force of the mighty windthat howled about her, the Ithaca drifted a hopeless wreck soon afterthe storm struck her.
Below deck the terrified girl clung desperately to a stanchion as thestricken ship lunged sickeningly before the hurricane. For half anhour the awful suspense endured, and then with a terrific crash thevessel struck, shivering and trembling from stem to stern.
Virginia Maxon sank to her knees in prayer, for this she thought mustsurely be the end. On deck Bududreen and his crew had lashedthemselves to the masts, and as the Ithaca struck the reef before theharbor, back upon which she had been driven, the tall poles with theirliving freight snapped at the deck and went overboard carrying everything with them amid shrieks and cries of terror that were drowned andchoked by the wild tumult of the night.
Twice the girl felt the ship strike upon the reef, then a great wavecaught and carried her high into the air, dropping her with anauseating lunge which seemed to the imprisoned girl to be carrying theship to the very bottom of the ocean. With closed eyes she clung insilent prayer beside her berth waiting for the moment that would bringthe engulfing waters and oblivion--praying that the end might comespeedily and release her from the torture of nervous apprehension thathad terrorized her for what seemed an eternity.
After the last, long dive the Ithaca righted herself laboriously,wallowing drunkenly, but apparently upon an even keel in less turbulentwaters. One long minute dragged after another, yet no suffocatingdeluge poured in upon the girl, and presently she realized that theship had, at least temporarily, weathered the awful buffeting of thesavage elements. Now she felt but a gentle roll, though the wildturmoil of the storm still came to her ears through the heavy plankingof the Ithaca's hull.
For a long hour she lay wondering what fate had overtaken the vesseland whither she had been driven, and then, with a gentle grindingsound, the ship stopped, swung around, and finally came to rest with aslight list to starboard. The wind howled about her, the torrentialrain beat loudly upon her, but except for a slight rocking the ship layquiet.
Hours passed with no other sounds than those of the rapidly waningtempest. The girl heard no signs of life upon the ship. Her curiositybecame more and more keenly aroused. She had that indefinable,intuitive feeling that she was utterly alone upon the vessel, and atlength, unable to endure the inaction and uncertainty longer, made herway to the companion ladder where for half an hour she futilelyattempted to remove the hatch.
As she worked she failed to hear the scraping of naked bodiesclambering over the ship's side, or the padding of unshod feet upon thedeck above her. She was about to give up her work at the hatch whenthe heavy wooden cover suddenly commenced to move above her as thoughactuated by some supernatural power. Fascinated, the girl stood gazingin wide-eyed astonishment as one end of the hatch rose higher andhigher until a little patch of blue sky revealed the fact that morninghad come. Then the cover slid suddenly back and Virginia Maxon foundherself looking into a savage and terrible face.
The dark skin was creased in fierce wrinkles about the eyes and mouth.Gleaming tiger cat's teeth curved upward from holes pierced to receivethem in the upper half of each ear. The slit ear lobes supported heavyrings whose weight had stretched the skin until the long loop restedupon the brown shoulders. The filed and blackened teeth behind theloose lips added the last touch of hideousness to this terriblecountenance.
Nor was this all. A score of equally ferocious faces peered down frombehind the foremost. With a little scream Virginia Maxon sprang backto the lower deck and ran toward her stateroom. Behind her she heardthe commotion of many men descending the companionway.
As Number Thirteen came into the campong after quitting the bungalowhis heart was a chaos of conflicting emotions. His little world hadbeen wiped out. His creator--the man whom he thought his only friendand benefactor--had suddenly turned against him. The beautifulcreature he worshipped was either lost or dead; Sing had said so. Hewas nothing but a miserable THING. There was no place in the world forhim, and even should he again find Virginia Maxon, he had von Horn'sword for it that she would shrink from him and loathe him even morethan another.
With no plans and no hopes he walked aimlessly through the blindingrain, oblivious of it and of the vivid lightning and deafening thunder.The palisade at length brought him to a sudden stop. Mechanically hesquatted on his haunches with his back against it, and there, in themidst of the fury of the storm he conquered the tempest that raged inhis own breast. The murder that rose again and again in his untaughtheart he forced back by thoughts of the sweet, pure face of the girlwhose image he had set up in the inner temple of his being, as agentle, guiding divinity.
"He made me without a soul," he repeated over and over again tohimself, "but I have found a soul--she shall be my soul. Von Horncould not explain to me what a soul is. He does not know. None ofthem knows. I am wiser than all the rest, for I have learned what asoul is. Eyes cannot see it--fingers cannot feel it, but he whopossess it knows that it is there for it fills his whole breast with agreat, wonderful love and worship for something infinitely finer thanman's dull senses can gauge--something that guides him into paths farabove the plain of soulless beasts and bestial men.
"Let those who will say that I have no soul, for I am satisfied withthe soul I have found. It would never permit me to inflict on othersthe terrible wrong that Professor Maxon has inflicted on me--yet henever doubts his own possession of a soul. It would not allow me torevel in the coarse brutalities of von Horn--and I am sure that vonHorn thinks he has a soul. And if the savage men who came tonight tokill have souls, then I am glad that my soul is after my ownchoosing--I would not care for one like theirs."
The sudden equatorial dawn found the man still musing. The storm hadceased and as the daylight brought the surroundings to view NumberThirteen became aware that he was not alone in the campong. All abouthim lay the eleven terrible men whom he had driven from the bungalowthe previous night. The sight of them brought a realization of newresponsibilities. To leave them here in the campong would mean theimmediate death of Professor Maxon and the Chinaman. To turn them intothe jungle might mean a similar fate for Virginia Maxon were shewandering about in search of the encampment-- Number Thirteen couldnot believe that she was dead. It seemed too monstrous to believe thathe should never see her again, and he knew so little of death that itwas impossible for him to realize that that beautiful creature evercould cease to be filled with the vivacity of life.
The young man had determined to leave the camp himself--partly onaccount of the cruel words Professor Maxon had hurled at him the nightbefore, but principally in order that he might search for the lostgirl. Of course he had not the remotest idea where to look for her,but as von Horn had explained that they were upon a small island hefelt reasonably sure that he should find her in time.
As he looked at the sleeping monsters near him he determined that theonly solution of his problem was to take them all with him. NumberTwelve lay closest to him, and stepping to his side he nudged him withthe butt of the bull whip he still carried. The creature opened hisdull eyes.
"Get up," said Number Thirteen.
Number Twelve rose, looking askance at the bull whip.
"We are not wanted here," said Number Thirteen. "I am going away andyou are all going with me. We shall find a place where we may live inpeace and freedom. Are you not tired of always being penned up?"
"Yes," replied Number Twelve, still looking at the whip.
"You need not fear the whip," sa
id the young man. "I shall not use iton those who make no trouble. Wake the others and tell them what Ihave said. All must come with me--those who refuse shall feel thewhip."
Number Twelve did as he was bid. The creatures mumbled amongthemselves for a few minutes. Finally Number Thirteen cracked his longwhip to attract their attention.
"Come!" he said.
Nine of them shuffled after him as he turned toward the outergate--only Number Ten and Number Three held back. The young man walkedquickly to where they stood eyeing him sullenly. The others halted towatch--ready to spring upon their new master should the tide of theimpending battle turn against him. The two mutineers backed awaysnarling, their hideous features distorted in rage.
"Come!" repeated Number Thirteen.
"We will stay here," growled Number Ten. "We have not yet finishedwith Maxon."
A loop in the butt of the bull whip was about the young man's wrist.Dropping the weapon from his hand it still dangled by the loop. At thesame instant he launched himself at the throat of Number Ten, for herealized that a decisive victory now without the aid of the weapon theyall feared would make the balance of his work easier.
The brute met the charge with lowered head and outstretched hands, andin another second they were locked in a clinch, tearing at one anotherlike two great gorillas. For a moment Number Three stood watching thebattle, and then he too sprang in to aid his fellow mutineer. NumberThirteen was striking heavy blows with his giant hands upon the faceand head of his antagonist, while the long, uneven fangs of the latterhad found his breast and neck a half dozen times. Blood covered themboth. Number Three threw his enormous weight into the conflict withthe frenzy of a mad bull.
Again and again he got a hold upon the young giant's throat only to beshaken loose by the mighty muscles. The excitement of the conflict wastelling upon the malformed minds of the spectators. Presently one whowas almost brainless, acting upon the impulse of suggestion, leaped inamong the fighters, striking and biting at Number Thirteen. It was allthat was needed--another second found the whole monstrous crew upon thesingle man.
His mighty strength availed him but little in the unequalconflict--eleven to one were too great odds even for those powerfulthews. His great advantage lay in his superior intelligence, but eventhis seemed futile in the face of the enormous weight of numbers thatopposed him. Time and again he had almost shaken himself free only tofall once more--dragged down by hairy arms about his legs.
Hither and thither about the campong the battle raged until thefighting mass rolled against the palisade, and here, at last, with hisback to the structure, Number Thirteen regained his feet, and with theheavy stock of the bull whip beat off, for a moment, those nearest him.All were winded, but when those who were left of the eleven originalantagonists drew back to regain their breath, the young giant gave themno respite, but leaped among them with the long lash they had such goodreason to hate and fear.
The result was as his higher intelligence had foreseen--the creaturesscattered to escape the fury of the lash and a moment later he had themat his mercy. About the campong lay four who had felt the full forceof his heavy fist, while not one but bore some mark of the battle.
Not a moment did he give them to recuperate after he had scattered thembefore he rounded them up once more near the outer gate--but now theywere docile and submissive. In pairs he ordered them to lift theirunconscious comrades to their shoulders and bear them into the jungle,for Number Thirteen was setting out into the world with his grim tribein search of his lady love.
Once well within the jungle they halted to eat of the more familiarfruit which had always formed the greater bulk of their sustenance.Thus refreshed, they set out once more after the leader who wanderedaimlessly beneath the shade of the tall jungle trees amidst thegorgeous tropic blooms and gay, songless birds--and of the twelve onlythe leader saw the beauties that surrounded them or felt the strange,mysterious influence of the untracked world they trod. Chance tookthem toward the west until presently they emerged upon the harbor'sedge, where from the matted jungle they overlooked for the first timethe waters of the little bay and the broader expanse of strait beyond,until their eyes rested at last upon the blurred lines of distantBorneo.
From other vantage points at the jungle's border two other watcherslooked out upon the scene. One was the lascar whom von Horn had sentdown to the Ithaca the night before but who had reached the harborafter she sailed. The other was von Horn himself. And both werelooking out upon the dismantled wreck of the Ithaca where it lay in thesand near the harbor's southern edge.
Neither ventured forth from his place of concealment, for beyond theIthaca ten prahus were pulling gracefully into the quiet waters of thebasin.
Rajah Muda Saffir, caught by the hurricane the preceding night as hehad been about to beat across to Borneo, had scurried for shelterwithin one of the many tiny coves which indent the island's entirecoast. It happened that his haven of refuge was but a short distancesouth of the harbor in which he knew the Ithaca to be moored, and inthe morning he decided to pay that vessel a visit in the hope that hemight learn something of advantage about the girl from one of herlascar crew.
The wily Malay had long refrained from pillaging the Ithaca for fearsuch an act might militate against the larger villainy he purposedperpetrating against her white owner, but when he rounded the point andcame in sight of the stranded wreck he put all such thoughts from himand made straight for the helpless hulk to glean whatever of salvagemight yet remain within her battered hull.
The old rascal had little thought of the priceless treasure hiddenbeneath the Ithaca's clean swept deck as he ordered his savage henchmenup her sides while he lay back upon his sleeping mat beneath the canopywhich protected his vice-regal head from the blistering tropic sun.
Number Thirteen watched the wild head hunters with keenest interest asthey clambered aboard the vessel. With von Horn he saw the evidentamazement which followed the opening of the hatch, though neitherguessed its cause. He saw the haste with which a half dozen of thewarriors leaped down the companionway and heard their savage shouts asthey pursued their quarry within the bowels of the ship.
A few minutes later they emerged dragging a woman with them. Von Hornand Number Thirteen recognized the girl simultaneously, but the doctor,though he ground his teeth in futile rage, knew that he was helpless toavert the tragedy. Number Thirteen neither knew nor cared.
"Come!" he called to his grotesque horde. "Kill the men and save thegirl--the one with the golden hair," he added as the sudden realizationcame to him that none of these creatures ever had seen a woman before.Then he dashed from the shelter of the jungle, across the beach andinto the water, his fearful pack at his heels.
The Ithaca lay now in about five feet of water, and the war prahus ofMuda Saffir rode upon her seaward side, so that those who manned themdid not see the twelve who splashed through the water from land. Neverbefore had any of the rescuers seen a larger body of water than thelittle stream which wound through their campong, but accidents andexperiments in that had taught them the danger of submerging theirheads. They could not swim, but all were large and strong, so thatthey were able to push their way rapidly through the water to the veryside of the ship.
Here they found difficulty in reaching the deck, but in a moment NumberThirteen had solved the problem by requiring one of the taller of hiscrew to stand close in by the ship while the others clambered upon hisshoulders and from there to the Ithaca's deck.
Number Thirteen was the first to pull himself over the vessel's side,and as he did so he saw some half dozen Dyaks preparing to quit herupon the opposite side. They were the last of the boarding party--thegirl was nowhere in sight. Without waiting for his men the young giantsprang across the deck. His one thought was to find Virginia Maxon.
At the sound of his approach the Dyak turned, and at the sight of apajama clad white man armed only with a long whip they emitted savagecries of anticipation, counting the handsome trophy upon
the whiteone's shoulders as already theirs. Number Thirteen would have paid noattention whatever to them had they not molested him, for he wishedonly to reach the girl's side as quickly as possible; but in anothermoment he found himself confronted by a half dozen dancing wild men,brandishing wicked looking parangs, and crying tauntingly.
Up went the great bull whip, and without abating his speed a particlethe man leaped into the midst of the wicked blades that menaced him.Right and left with the quickness of thought the heavy lash fell uponheads, shoulders and sword arms. There was no chance to wield a bladein the face of that terrific onslaught, for the whip fell, not with theordinary force of a man-held lash, but with all the stupendous power ofthose giant shoulders and arms behind it.
A single blow felled the foremost head hunter, breaking his shoulderand biting into the flesh and bone as a heavy sword bites. Again andagain the merciless leather fell, while in the boats below Muda Saffirand his men shouted loud cries of encouragement to their companions onthe ship, and a wide-eyed girl in the stern of Muda Saffir's own prahulooked on in terror, hope and admiration at the man of her own racewhom she felt was battling against all these odds for her alone.
Virginia Maxon recognized her champion instantly as he who had foughtfor her and saved her once before, from the hideous creature of herfather's experiments. With hands tight pressed against her bosom thegirl leaned forward, tense with excitement, watching every move of thelithe, giant figure, as, silhouetted against the brazen tropic sky, ittowered above the dancing, shrieking head hunters who writhed beneaththe awful lash.
Muda Saffir saw that the battle was going against his men, and itfilled him with anger. Turning to one of his headmen he ordered twomore boatloads of warriors to the Ithaca's deck. As they were rushingto obey their leader's command there was a respite in the fighting onthe ship, for the three who had not fallen beneath the bull whip hadleaped overboard to escape the fate which had overtaken their comrades.
As the reinforcements started to scale the vessel's side NumberThirteen's searching eyes found the girl in Muda Saffir's prahu, whereit lay a little off from the Ithaca, and as the first of the enemyclambered over the rail she saw a smile of encouragement light theclear cut features of the man above her. Virginia Maxon sent back ananswering smile--a smile that filled the young giant's heart with prideand happiness--such a smile as brave men have been content to fight anddie for since woman first learned the art of smiling.
Number Thirteen could have beaten back many of the reinforcing partybefore they reached the deck, but he did not care to do so. In thespontaneous ethics of the man there seemed no place for an unfairadvantage over an enemy, and added to this was his newly acquired loveof battle, so he was content to wait until his foes stood on an evenfooting with him before he engaged them. But they never came withinreach of his ready lash. Instead, as they came above the ship's sidethey paused, wide-eyed and terror stricken, and with cries of fear andconsternation dropped precipitately back into the sea, shoutingwarnings to those who were about to scale the hull.
Muda Saffir arose in his prahu cursing and reviling the frightenedDyaks. He did not know the cause of their alarm, but presently he sawit behind the giant upon the Ithaca's deck--eleven horriblemonstrosities lumbering forward, snarling and growling, to theirleader's side.
At the sight his own dark countenance went ashen, and with tremblinglips he ordered his oarsmen to pull for the open sea. The girl, too,saw the frightful creatures that surrounded the man upon the deck. Shethought that they were about to attack him, and gave a little cry ofwarning, but in another instant she realized that they were hiscompanions, for with him they rushed to the side of the ship to standfor a moment looking down upon the struggling Dyaks in the water below.
Two prahus lay directly beneath them, and into these the head hunterswere scrambling. The balance of the flotilla was now making rapidheadway under oars and sail toward the mouth of the harbor, and asNumber Thirteen saw that the girl was being borne away from him, heshouted a command to his misshapen crew, and without waiting to see ifthey would follow him leaped into the nearer of the two boats beneath.
It was already half filled with Dyaks, some of whom were hastilymanning the oars. Others of the head hunters were scrambling over thegunwale. In an instant pandemonium reigned in the little vessel.Savage warriors sprang toward the tall figure towering above them.Parangs flashed. The bull whip hissed and cracked, and then into themidst of it all came a horrid avalanche of fearful and grotesquemonsters--the young giant's crew had followed at his command.
The battle in the prahu was short and fierce. For an instant the Dyaksattempted to hold their own, but in the face of the snarling, rendinghorde that engulfed them terror got the better of them all, so thatthose who were not overcome dived overboard and swam rapidly towardshore.
The other prahu had not waited to assist its companion, but before itwas entirely filled had gotten under way and was now rapidlyoverhauling the balance of the fleet.
Von Horn had been an excited witness to all that had occurred upon thetranquil bosom of the little harbor. He had been filled withastonishment at sight of the inhabitants of the court of mysteryfighting under the leadership of Number Thirteen, and now he watchedinterestedly the outcome of the adventure.
The sight of the girl being borne away in the prahu of the Malay rajahto a fate worse than death, had roused in him both keen regret andsavage rage, but it was the life of ease that he was losing thatconcerned him most. He had felt so sure of winning Professor Maxon'sfortune through either a forced or voluntary marriage with the girlthat his feelings now were as of one whose rightful heritage has beenfoully wrested from him. The thought of the girl's danger andsuffering were of but secondary consideration to him, for the man wasincapable of either deep love or true chivalry.
Quite the contrary were the emotions which urged on the soullesscreature who now found himself in undisputed possession of a Dyak warprahu. His only thought was of the girl being rapidly borne awayacross the glimmering waters of the strait. He knew not to whatdangers she was exposed, or what fate threatened her. All he knew wasthat she had been taken by force against her will. He had seen thelook of terror in her eyes, and the dawning hope die out as the boatthat carried her had turned rapidly away from the Ithaca. His onethought now was to rescue her from her abductors and return her to herfather. Of his own reward or profit he entertained no singlethought--it was enough if he could fight for her. That would be rewardsufficient.
Neither Number Thirteen nor any of his crew had ever before seen aboat, and outside of the leader there was scarcely enough brains in theentire party to render it at all likely that they could ever navigateit, but the young man saw that the other prahus were being propelled bythe long sticks which protruded from their sides, and he also saw thesails bellying with wind, though he had but a vague conception of theirpurpose.
For a moment he stood watching the actions of the men in the nearestboat, and then he set himself to the task of placing his own men at theoars and instructing them in the manner of wielding the unfamiliarimplements. For an hour he worked with the brainless things thatconstituted his party. They could not seem to learn what was requiredof them. The paddles were continually fouling one another, or beingmerely dipped into the water and withdrawn without the faintestsemblance of a stroke made.
The tiresome maneuvering had carried them about in circles back andforth across the harbor, but by it Number Thirteen had himself learnedsomething of the proper method of propelling and steering his craft.At last, more through accident than intent, they came opposite themouth of the basin, and then chance did for them what days of arduousendeavor upon their part might have failed to accomplish.
As they hung wavering in the opening, the broad strait before them, andtheir quarry fast diminishing to small specks upon the distant horizon,a vagrant land breeze suddenly bellied the flapping sail. The prahuswung quickly about with nose pointed toward the sea, the sail filled,and the long, na
rrow craft shot out of the harbor and sped on over thedancing waters in the wake of her sisters.
On shore behind them the infuriated Dyaks who had escaped to the beachdanced and shrieked; von Horn, from his hiding place, looked on insurprised wonder, and Bududreen's lascar cursed the fate that had lefta party of forty head hunters upon the same small island with him.
Smaller and smaller grew the retreating prahu as, straight as an arrow,she sped toward the dim outline of verdure clad Borneo.
The Monster Men Page 8