The Son of Tarzan

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Chapter 27

  Korak screamed commands to his huge protector, in an effort to halthim; but all to no avail. Meriem raced toward the bordering trees withall the speed that lay in her swift, little feet; but Tantor, for allhis huge bulk, drove down upon her with the rapidity of an expresstrain.

  Korak lay where he could see the whole frightful tragedy. The coldsweat broke out upon his body. His heart seemed to have stopped itsbeating. Meriem might reach the trees before Tantor overtook her, buteven her agility would not carry her beyond the reach of thatrelentless trunk--she would be dragged down and tossed. Korak couldpicture the whole frightful scene. Then Tantor would follow her up,goring the frail, little body with his relentless tusks, or tramplingit into an unrecognizable mass beneath his ponderous feet.

  He was almost upon her now. Korak wanted to close his eyes, but couldnot. His throat was dry and parched. Never in all his savageexistence had he suffered such blighting terror--never before had heknown what terror meant. A dozen more strides and the brute wouldseize her. What was that? Korak's eyes started from their sockets. Astrange figure had leaped from the tree the shade of which Meriemalready had reached--leaped beyond the girl straight into the path ofthe charging elephant. It was a naked white giant. Across hisshoulder a coil of rope was looped. In the band of his gee string wasa hunting knife. Otherwise he was unarmed. With naked hands he facedthe maddening Tantor. A sharp command broke from the stranger'slips--the great beast halted in his tracks--and Meriem swung herselfupward into the tree to safety. Korak breathed a sigh of relief notunmixed with wonder. He fastened his eyes upon the face of Meriem'sdeliverer and as recognition slowly filtered into his understandingthey went wide in incredulity and surprise.

  Tantor, still rumbling angrily, stood swaying to and fro close beforethe giant white man. Then the latter stepped straight beneath theupraised trunk and spoke a low word of command. The great beast ceasedhis muttering. The savage light died from his eyes, and as thestranger stepped forward toward Korak, Tantor trailed docilely at hisheels.

  Meriem was watching, too, and wondering. Suddenly the man turnedtoward her as though recollecting her presence after a moment offorgetfulness. "Come! Meriem," he called, and then she recognized himwith a startled: "Bwana!" Quickly the girl dropped from the tree andran to his side. Tantor cocked a questioning eye at the white giant,but receiving a warning word let Meriem approach. Together the twowalked to where Korak lay, his eyes wide with wonder and filled with apathetic appeal for forgiveness, and, mayhap, a glad thankfulness forthe miracle that had brought these two of all others to his side.

  "Jack!" cried the white giant, kneeling at the ape-man's side.

  "Father!" came chokingly from The Killer's lips. "Thank God that itwas you. No one else in all the jungle could have stopped Tantor."

  Quickly the man cut the bonds that held Korak, and as the youth leapedto his feet and threw his arms about his father, the older man turnedtoward Meriem.

  "I thought," he said, sternly, "that I told you to return to the farm."

  Korak was looking at them wonderingly. In his heart was a greatyearning to take the girl in his arms; but in time he remembered theother--the dapper young English gentleman--and that he was but asavage, uncouth ape-man.

  Meriem looked up pleadingly into Bwana's eyes.

  "You told me," she said, in a very small voice, "that my place wasbeside the man I loved," and she turned her eyes toward Korak allfilled with the wonderful light that no other man had yet seen in them,and that none other ever would.

  The Killer started toward her with outstretched arms; but suddenly hefell upon one knee before her, instead, and lifting her hand to hislips kissed it more reverently than he could have kissed the hand ofhis country's queen.

  A rumble from Tantor brought the three, all jungle bred, to instantalertness. Tantor was looking toward the trees behind them, and astheir eyes followed his gaze the head and shoulders of a great apeappeared amidst the foliage. For a moment the creature eyed them, andthen from its throat rose a loud scream of recognition and of joy, anda moment later the beast had leaped to the ground, followed by a scoreof bulls like himself, and was waddling toward them, shouting in theprimordial tongue of the anthropoid:

  "Tarzan has returned! Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle!"

  It was Akut, and instantly he commenced leaping and bounding about thetrio, uttering hideous shrieks and mouthings that to any other humanbeings might have indicated the most ferocious rage; but these threeknew that the king of the apes was doing homage to a king greater thanhimself. In his wake leaped his shaggy bulls, vying with one anotheras to which could spring the highest and which utter the most uncannysounds.

  Korak laid his hand affectionately upon his father's shoulder.

  "There is but one Tarzan," he said. "There can never be another."

  Two days later the three dropped from the trees on the edge of theplain across which they could see the smoke rising from the bungalowand the cook house chimneys. Tarzan of the Apes had regained hiscivilized clothing from the tree where he had hidden it, and as Korakrefused to enter the presence of his mother in the savage half-raimentthat he had worn so long and as Meriem would not leave him, for fear,as she explained, that he would change his mind and run off into thejungle again, the father went on ahead to the bungalow for horses andclothes.

  My Dear met him at the gate, her eyes filled with questioning andsorrow, for she saw that Meriem was not with him.

  "Where is she?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Muviri told me thatshe disobeyed your instructions and ran off into the jungle after youhad left them. Oh, John, I cannot bear to lose her, too!" And LadyGreystoke broke down and wept, as she pillowed her head upon the broadbreast where so often before she had found comfort in the greattragedies of her life.

  Lord Greystoke raised her head and looked down into her eyes, his ownsmiling and filled with the light of happiness.

  "What is it, John?" she cried. "You have good news--do not keep mewaiting for it."

  "I want to be quite sure that you can stand hearing the best news thatever came to either of us," he said.

  "Joy never kills," she cried. "You have found--her?" She could notbring herself to hope for the impossible.

  "Yes, Jane," he said, and his voice was husky with emotion; "I havefound her, and--HIM!"

  "Where is he? Where are they?" she demanded.

  "Out there at the edge of the jungle. He wouldn't come to you in hissavage leopard skin and his nakedness--he sent me to fetch himcivilized clothing."

  She clapped her hands in ecstasy, and turned to run toward thebungalow. "Wait!" she cried over her shoulder. "I have all his littlesuits--I have saved them all. I will bring one to you."

  Tarzan laughed and called to her to stop.

  "The only clothing on the place that will fit him," he said, "ismine--if it isn't too small for him--your little boy has grown, Jane."

  She laughed, too; she felt like laughing at everything, or at nothing.The world was all love and happiness and joy once more--the world thathad been shrouded in the gloom of her great sorrow for so many years.So great was her joy that for the moment she forgot the sad messagethat awaited Meriem. She called to Tarzan after he had ridden away toprepare her for it, but he did not hear and rode on without knowinghimself what the event was to which his wife referred.

  And so, an hour later, Korak, The Killer, rode home to his mother--themother whose image had never faded in his boyish heart--and found inher arms and her eyes the love and forgiveness that he plead for.

  And then the mother turned toward Meriem, an expression of pityingsorrow erasing the happiness from her eyes.

  "My little girl," she said, "in the midst of our happiness a greatsorrow awaits you--Mr. Baynes did not survive his wound."

  The expression of sorrow in Meriem's eyes expressed only what shesincerely felt; but it was not the sorrow of a woman bereft of her bestbeloved.

  "I am sorry," she said,
quite simply. "He would have done me a greatwrong; but he amply atoned before he died. Once I thought that I lovedhim. At first it was only fascination for a type that was new tome--then it was respect for a brave man who had the moral courage toadmit a sin and the physical courage to face death to right the wronghe had committed. But it was not love. I did not know what love wasuntil I knew that Korak lived," and she turned toward The Killer with asmile.

  Lady Greystoke looked quickly up into the eyes of her son--the son whoone day would be Lord Greystoke. No thought of the difference in thestations of the girl and her boy entered her mind. To her Meriem wasfit for a king. She only wanted to know that Jack loved the littleArab waif. The look in his eyes answered the question in her heart,and she threw her arms about them both and kissed them each a dozentimes.

  "Now," she cried, "I shall really have a daughter!"

  It was several weary marches to the nearest mission; but they onlywaited at the farm a few days for rest and preparation for the greatevent before setting out upon the journey, and after the marriageceremony had been performed they kept on to the coast to take passagefor England. Those days were the most wonderful of Meriem's life. Shehad not dreamed even vaguely of the marvels that civilization held instore for her. The great ocean and the commodious steamship filled herwith awe. The noise, and bustle and confusion of the English railwaystation frightened her.

  "If there was a good-sized tree at hand," she confided to Korak, "Iknow that I should run to the very top of it in terror of my life."

  "And make faces and throw twigs at the engine?" he laughed back.

  "Poor old Numa," sighed the girl. "What will he do without us?"

  "Oh, there are others to tease him, my little Mangani," assured Korak.

  The Greystoke town house quite took Meriem's breath away; but whenstrangers were about none might guess that she had not been to themanner born.

  They had been home but a week when Lord Greystoke received a messagefrom his friend of many years, D'Arnot.

  It was in the form of a letter of introduction brought by one GeneralArmand Jacot. Lord Greystoke recalled the name, as who familiar withmodern French history would not, for Jacot was in reality the Prince deCadrenet--that intense republican who refused to use, even by courtesy,a title that had belonged to his family for four hundred years.

  "There is no place for princes in a republic," he was wont to say.

  Lord Greystoke received the hawk-nosed, gray mustached soldier in hislibrary, and after a dozen words the two men had formed a mutual esteemthat was to endure through life.

  "I have come to you," explained General Jacot, "because our dearAdmiral tells me that there is no one in all the world who is moreintimately acquainted with Central Africa than you.

  "Let me tell you my story from the beginning. Many years ago my littledaughter was stolen, presumably by Arabs, while I was serving with theForeign Legion in Algeria. We did all that love and money and evengovernment resources could do to discover her; but all to no avail.Her picture was published in the leading papers of every large city inthe world, yet never did we find a man or woman who ever had seen hersince the day she mysteriously disappeared.

  "A week since there came to me in Paris a swarthy Arab, who calledhimself Abdul Kamak. He said that he had found my daughter and couldlead me to her. I took him at once to Admiral d'Arnot, whom I knew hadtraveled some in Central Africa. The man's story led the Admiral tobelieve that the place where the white girl the Arab supposed to be mydaughter was held in captivity was not far from your African estates,and he advised that I come at once and call upon you--that you wouldknow if such a girl were in your neighborhood."

  "What proof did the Arab bring that she was your daughter?" asked LordGreystoke.

  "None," replied the other. "That is why we thought best to consult youbefore organizing an expedition. The fellow had only an old photographof her on the back of which was pasted a newspaper cutting describingher and offering a reward. We feared that having found this somewhereit had aroused his cupidity and led him to believe that in some way hecould obtain the reward, possibly by foisting upon us a white girl onthe chance that so many years had elapsed that we would not be able torecognize an imposter as such."

  "Have you the photograph with you?" asked Lord Greystoke.

  The General drew an envelope from his pocket, took a yellowedphotograph from it and handed it to the Englishman.

  Tears dimmed the old warrior's eyes as they fell again upon thepictured features of his lost daughter.

  Lord Greystoke examined the photograph for a moment. A queerexpression entered his eyes. He touched a bell at his elbow, and aninstant later a footman entered.

  "Ask my son's wife if she will be so good as to come to the library,"he directed.

  The two men sat in silence. General Jacot was too well bred to show inany way the chagrin and disappointment he felt in the summary manner inwhich Lord Greystoke had dismissed the subject of his call. As soon asthe young lady had come and he had been presented he would make hisdeparture. A moment later Meriem entered.

  Lord Greystoke and General Jacot rose and faced her. The Englishmanspoke no word of introduction--he wanted to mark the effect of thefirst sight of the girl's face on the Frenchman, for he had a theory--aheaven-born theory that had leaped into his mind the moment his eyeshad rested on the baby face of Jeanne Jacot.

  General Jacot took one look at Meriem, then he turned toward LordGreystoke.

  "How long have you known it?" he asked, a trifle accusingly.

  "Since you showed me that photograph a moment ago," replied theEnglishman.

  "It is she," said Jacot, shaking with suppressed emotion; "but she doesnot recognize me--of course she could not." Then he turned to Meriem."My child," he said, "I am your--"

  But she interrupted him with a quick, glad cry, as she ran toward himwith outstretched arms.

  "I know you! I know you!" she cried. "Oh, now I remember," and theold man folded her in his arms.

  Jack Clayton and his mother were summoned, and when the story had beentold them they were only glad that little Meriem had found a father anda mother.

  "And really you didn't marry an Arab waif after all," said Meriem."Isn't it fine!"

  "You are fine," replied The Killer. "I married my little Meriem, and Idon't care, for my part, whether she is an Arab, or just a littleTarmangani."

  "She is neither, my son," said General Armand Jacot. "She is aprincess in her own right."