Chapter 15
And out in the jungle, far away, Korak, covered with wounds, stiff withclotted blood, burning with rage and sorrow, swung back upon the trailof the great baboons. He had not found them where he had last seenthem, nor in any of their usual haunts; but he sought them along thewell-marked spoor they had left behind them, and at last he overtookthem. When first he came upon them they were moving slowly butsteadily southward in one of those periodic migrations the reasons forwhich the baboon himself is best able to explain. At sight of thewhite warrior who came upon them from down wind the herd halted inresponse to the warning cry of the sentinel that had discovered him.There was much growling and muttering; much stiff-legged circling onthe part of the bulls. The mothers, in nervous, high pitched tones,called their young to their sides, and with them moved to safety behindtheir lords and masters.
Korak called aloud to the king, who, at the familiar voice, advancedslowly, warily, and still stiff-legged. He must have the confirmatoryevidence of his nose before venturing to rely too implicitly upon thetestimony of his ears and eyes. Korak stood perfectly still. To haveadvanced then might have precipitated an immediate attack, or, aseasily, a panic of flight. Wild beasts are creatures of nerves. It isa relatively simple thing to throw them into a species of hysteriawhich may induce either a mania for murder, or symptoms of apparentabject cowardice--it is a question, however, if a wild animal ever isactually a coward.
The king baboon approached Korak. He walked around him in an everdecreasing circle--growling, grunting, sniffing. Korak spoke to him.
"I am Korak," he said. "I opened the cage that held you. I saved youfrom the Tarmangani. I am Korak, The Killer. I am your friend."
"Huh," grunted the king. "Yes, you are Korak. My ears told me thatyou were Korak. My eyes told me that you were Korak. Now my nosetells me that you are Korak. My nose is never wrong. I am yourfriend. Come, we shall hunt together."
"Korak cannot hunt now," replied the ape-man. "The Gomangani havestolen Meriem. They have tied her in their village. They will not lether go. Korak, alone, was unable to set her free. Korak set you free.Now will you bring your people and set Korak's Meriem free?"
"The Gomangani have many sharp sticks which they throw. They piercethe bodies of my people. They kill us. The gomangani are bad people.They will kill us all if we enter their village."
"The Tarmangani have sticks that make a loud noise and kill at a greatdistance," replied Korak. "They had these when Korak set you free fromtheir trap. If Korak had run away from them you would now be aprisoner among the Tarmangani."
The baboon scratched his head. In a rough circle about him and theape-man squatted the bulls of his herd. They blinked their eyes,shouldered one another about for more advantageous positions, scratchedin the rotting vegetation upon the chance of unearthing a toothsomeworm, or sat listlessly eyeing their king and the strange Mangani, whocalled himself thus but who more closely resembled the hatedTarmangani. The king looked at some of the older of his subjects, asthough inviting suggestion.
"We are too few," grunted one.
"There are the baboons of the hill country," suggested another. "Theyare as many as the leaves of the forest. They, too, hate theGomangani. They love to fight. They are very savage. Let us ask themto accompany us. Then can we kill all the Gomangani in the jungle." Herose and growled horribly, bristling his stiff hair.
"That is the way to talk," cried The Killer, "but we do not need thebaboons of the hill country. We are enough. It will take a long timeto fetch them. Meriem may be dead and eaten before we could free her.Let us set out at once for the village of the Gomangani. If we travelvery fast it will not take long to reach it. Then, all at the sametime, we can charge into the village, growling and barking. TheGomangani will be very frightened and will run away. While they aregone we can seize Meriem and carry her off. We do not have to kill orbe killed--all that Korak wishes is his Meriem."
"We are too few," croaked the old ape again.
"Yes, we are too few," echoed others.
Korak could not persuade them. They would help him, gladly; but theymust do it in their own way and that meant enlisting the services oftheir kinsmen and allies of the hill country. So Korak was forced togive in. All he could do for the present was to urge them to haste,and at his suggestion the king baboon with a dozen of his mightiestbulls agreed to go to the hill country with Korak, leaving the balanceof the herd behind.
Once enlisted in the adventure the baboons became quite enthusiasticabout it. The delegation set off immediately. They traveled swiftly;but the ape-man found no difficulty in keeping up with them. They madea tremendous racket as they passed through the trees in an endeavor tosuggest to enemies in their front that a great herd was approaching,for when the baboons travel in large numbers there is no junglecreature who cares to molest them. When the nature of the countryrequired much travel upon the level, and the distance between trees wasgreat, they moved silently, knowing that the lion and the leopard wouldnot be fooled by noise when they could see plainly for themselves thatonly a handful of baboons were on the trail.
For two days the party raced through the savage country, passing out ofthe dense jungle into an open plain, and across this to timberedmountain slopes. Here Korak never before had been. It was a newcountry to him and the change from the monotony of the circumscribedview in the jungle was pleasing. But he had little desire to enjoy thebeauties of nature at this time. Meriem, his Meriem was in danger.Until she was freed and returned to him he had little thought for aughtelse.
Once in the forest that clothed the mountain slopes the baboonsadvanced more slowly. Constantly they gave tongue to a plaintive noteof calling. Then would follow silence while they listened. At last,faintly from the distance straight ahead came an answer.
The baboons continued to travel in the direction of the voices thatfloated through the forest to them in the intervals of their ownsilence. Thus, calling and listening, they came closer to theirkinsmen, who, it was evident to Korak, were coming to meet them ingreat numbers; but when, at last, the baboons of the hill country camein view the ape-man was staggered at the reality that broke upon hisvision.
What appeared a solid wall of huge baboons rose from the ground throughthe branches of the trees to the loftiest terrace to which they daredentrust their weight. Slowly they were approaching, voicing theirweird, plaintive call, and behind them, as far as Korak's eyes couldpierce the verdure, rose solid walls of their fellows treading closeupon their heels. There were thousands of them. The ape-man could notbut think of the fate of his little party should some untoward incidentarouse even momentarily the rage of fear of a single one of all thesethousands.
But nothing such befell. The two kings approached one another, as wastheir custom, with much sniffing and bristling. They satisfiedthemselves of each other's identity. Then each scratched the other'sback. After a moment they spoke together. Korak's friend explainedthe nature of their visit, and for the first time Korak showed himself.He had been hiding behind a bush. The excitement among the hillbaboons was intense at sight of him. For a moment Korak feared that heshould be torn to pieces; but his fear was for Meriem. Should he diethere would be none to succor her.
The two kings, however, managed to quiet the multitude, and Korak waspermitted to approach. Slowly the hill baboons came closer to him.They sniffed at him from every angle. When he spoke to them in theirown tongue they were filled with wonder and delight. They talked tohim and listened while he spoke. He told them of Meriem, and of theirlife in the jungle where they were the friends of all the ape folk fromlittle Manu to Mangani, the great ape.
"The Gomangani, who are keeping Meriem from me, are no friends ofyours," he said. "They kill you. The baboons of the low country aretoo few to go against them. They tell me that you are very many andvery brave--that your numbers are as the numbers of the grasses uponthe plains or the leaves within the forest, and that even Tantor, theelep
hant, fears you, so brave you are. They told me that you would behappy to accompany us to the village of the Gomangani and punish thesebad people while I, Korak, The Killer, carry away my Meriem."
The king ape puffed out his chest and strutted about very stiff-leggedindeed. So also did many of the other great bulls of his nation. Theywere pleased and flattered by the words of the strange Tarmangani, whocalled himself Mangani and spoke the language of the hairy progenitorsof man.
"Yes," said one, "we of the hill country are mighty fighters. Tantorfears us. Numa fears us. Sheeta fears us. The Gomangani of the hillcountry are glad to pass us by in peace. I, for one, will come withyou to the village of the Gomangani of the low places. I am the king'sfirst he-child. Alone can I kill all the Gomangani of the lowcountry," and he swelled his chest and strutted proudly back and forth,until the itching back of a comrade commanded his industrious attention.
"I am Goob," cried another. "My fighting fangs are long. They aresharp. They are strong. Into the soft flesh of many a Gomangani havethey been buried. Alone I slew the sister of Sheeta. Goob will go tothe low country with you and kill so many of the Gomangani that therewill be none left to count the dead," and then he, too, strutted andpranced before the admiring eyes of the shes and the young.
Korak looked at the king, questioningly.
"Your bulls are very brave," he said; "but braver than any is the king."
Thus addressed, the shaggy bull, still in his prime--else he had beenno longer king--growled ferociously. The forest echoed to his lustychallenges. The little baboons clutched fearfully at their mothers'hairy necks. The bulls, electrified, leaped high in air and took upthe roaring challenge of their king. The din was terrific.
Korak came close to the king and shouted in his ear, "Come." Then hestarted off through the forest toward the plain that they must cross ontheir long journey back to the village of Kovudoo, the Gomangani. Theking, still roaring and shrieking, wheeled and followed him. In theirwake came the handful of low country baboons and the thousands of thehill clan--savage, wiry, dog-like creatures, athirst for blood.
And so they came, upon the second day, to the village of Kovudoo. Itwas mid-afternoon. The village was sunk in the quiet of the greatequatorial sun-heat. The mighty herd traveled quietly now. Beneaththe thousands of padded feet the forest gave forth no greater soundthan might have been produced by the increased soughing of a strongerbreeze through the leafy branches of the trees.
Korak and the two kings were in the lead. Close beside the villagethey halted until the stragglers had closed up. Now utter silencereigned. Korak, creeping stealthily, entered the tree that overhungthe palisade. He glanced behind him. The pack were close upon hisheels. The time had come. He had warned them continuously during thelong march that no harm must befall the white she who lay a prisonerwithin the village. All others were their legitimate prey. Then,raising his face toward the sky, he gave voice to a single cry. It wasthe signal.
In response three thousand hairy bulls leaped screaming and barkinginto the village of the terrified blacks. Warriors poured from everyhut. Mothers gathered their babies in their arms and fled toward thegates as they saw the horrid horde pouring into the village street.Kovudoo marshaled his fighting men about him and, leaping and yellingto arouse their courage, offered a bristling, spear tipped front to thecharging horde.
Korak, as he had led the march, led the charge. The blacks were struckwith horror and dismay at the sight of this white-skinned youth at thehead of a pack of hideous baboons. For an instant they held theirground, hurling their spears once at the advancing multitude; butbefore they could fit arrows to their bows they wavered, gave, andturned in terrified rout. Into their ranks, upon their backs, sinkingstrong fangs into the muscles of their necks sprang the baboons andfirst among them, most ferocious, most blood-thirsty, most terrible wasKorak, The Killer.
At the village gates, through which the blacks poured in panic, Korakleft them to the tender mercies of his allies and turned himselfeagerly toward the hut in which Meriem had been a prisoner. It wasempty. One after another the filthy interiors revealed the samedisheartening fact--Meriem was in none of them. That she had not beentaken by the blacks in their flight from the village Korak knew for hehad watched carefully for a glimpse of her among the fugitives.
To the mind of the ape-man, knowing as he did the proclivities of thesavages, there was but a single explanation--Meriem had been killed andeaten. With the conviction that Meriem was dead there surged throughKorak's brain a wave of blood red rage against those he believed to beher murderer. In the distance he could hear the snarling of thebaboons mixed with the screams of their victims, and towards this hemade his way. When he came upon them the baboons had commenced to tireof the sport of battle, and the blacks in a little knot were making anew stand, using their knob sticks effectively upon the few bulls whostill persisted in attacking them.
Among these broke Korak from the branches of a tree above them--swift,relentless, terrible, he hurled himself upon the savage warriors ofKovudoo. Blind fury possessed him. Too, it protected him by its veryferocity. Like a wounded lioness he was here, there, everywhere,striking terrific blows with hard fists and with the precision andtimeliness of the trained fighter. Again and again he buried his teethin the flesh of a foeman. He was upon one and gone again to anotherbefore an effective blow could be dealt him. Yet, though great was theweight of his execution in determining the result of the combat, it wasoutweighed by the terror which he inspired in the simple, superstitiousminds of his foeman. To them this white warrior, who consorted withthe great apes and the fierce baboons, who growled and snarled andsnapped like a beast, was not human. He was a demon of the forest--afearsome god of evil whom they had offended, and who had come out ofhis lair deep in the jungle to punish them. And because of this beliefthere were many who offered but little defense, feeling as they did thefutility of pitting their puny mortal strength against that of a deity.
Those who could fled, until at last there were no more to pay thepenalty for a deed, which, while not beyond them, they were,nevertheless, not guilty of. Panting and bloody, Korak paused for wantof further victims. The baboons gathered about him, sated themselveswith blood and battle. They lolled upon the ground, fagged.
In the distance Kovudoo was gathering his scattered tribesmen, andtaking account of injuries and losses. His people were panic stricken.Nothing could prevail upon them to remain longer in this country. Theywould not even return to the village for their belongings. Insteadthey insisted upon continuing their flight until they had put manymiles between themselves and the stamping ground of the demon who hadso bitterly attacked them. And thus it befell that Korak drove fromtheir homes the only people who might have aided him in a search forMeriem, and cut off the only connecting link between him and her fromwhomsoever might come in search of him from the douar of the kindlyBwana who had befriended his little jungle sweetheart.
It was a sour and savage Korak who bade farewell to his baboon alliesupon the following morning. They wished him to accompany him; but theape-man had no heart for the society of any. Jungle life hadencouraged taciturnity in him. His sorrow had deepened this to asullen moroseness that could not brook even the savage companionship ofthe ill-natured baboons.
Brooding and despondent he took his solitary way into the deepestjungle. He moved along the ground when he knew that Numa was abroadand hungry. He took to the same trees that harbored Sheeta, thepanther. He courted death in a hundred ways and a hundred forms. Hismind was ever occupied with reminiscences of Meriem and the happy yearsthat they had spent together. He realized now to the full what she hadmeant to him. The sweet face, the tanned, supple, little body, thebright smile that always had welcomed his return from the hunt hauntedhim continually.
Inaction soon threatened him with madness. He must be on the go. Hemust fill his days with labor and excitement that he might forget--thatnight might find him so exhausted that he sho
uld sleep in blessedunconsciousness of his misery until a new day had come.
Had he guessed that by any possibility Meriem might still live he wouldat least have had hope. His days could have been devoted to searchingfor her; but he implicitly believed that she was dead.
For a long year he led his solitary, roaming life. Occasionally hefell in with Akut and his tribe, hunting with them for a day or two; orhe might travel to the hill country where the baboons had come toaccept him as a matter of course; but most of all was he with Tantor,the elephant--the great gray battle ship of the jungle--thesuper-dreadnaught of his savage world.
The peaceful quiet of the monster bulls, the watchful solicitude of themother cows, the awkward playfulness of the calves rested, interested,and amused Korak. The life of the huge beasts took his mind,temporarily from his own grief. He came to love them as he loved noteven the great apes, and there was one gigantic tusker in particular ofwhich he was very fond--the lord of the herd--a savage beast that waswont to charge a stranger upon the slightest provocation, or upon noprovocation whatsoever. And to Korak this mountain of destruction wasdocile and affectionate as a lap dog.
He came when Korak called. He wound his trunk about the ape-man's bodyand lifted him to his broad neck in response to a gesture, and therewould Korak lie at full length kicking his toes affectionately into thethick hide and brushing the flies from about the tender ears of hiscolossal chum with a leafy branch torn from a nearby tree by Tantor forthe purpose.
And all the while Meriem was scarce a hundred miles away.
The Son of Tarzan Page 15