With tremendous blows the ape-man felled all who came within reach of his powerful hands. He fought quietly and without a word, upon his lips the same half smile they had worn as he rose to strike down the man who had insulted him. It seemed impossible that either he or Abdul could survive the sea of wicked-looking swords and knives that surrounded them, but the very numbers of their assailants proved the best bulwark of their safety. So closely packed was the howling, cursing mob that no weapon could be wielded to advantage, and none of the Arabs dared use a firearm for fear of wounding one of his compatriots.
Finally Tarzan succeeded in seizing one of the most persistent of his attackers. With a quick wrench he disarmed the fellow, and then, holding him before them as a shield, he backed slowly beside Abdul toward the little door which led into the inner courtyard. At the threshold he paused for an instant, and, lifting the struggling Arab above his head, hurled him, as though from a catapult, full in the faces of his on-pressing fellows.
Then Tarzan and Abdul stepped into the semidarkness of the court. The frightened Ouled-Nails were crouching at the tops of the stairs which led to their respective rooms, the only light in the courtyard coming from the sickly candles which each girl had stuck with its own grease to the woodwork of her door-frame, the better to display her charms to those who might happen to traverse the dark inclosure.
Scarcely had Tarzan and Abdul emerged from the room ere a revolver spoke close at their backs from the shadows beneath one of the stairways, and as they turned to meet this new antagonist, two muffled figures sprang toward them, firing as they came. Tarzan leaped to meet these two new assailants. The foremost lay, a second later, in the trampled dirt of the court, disarmed and groaning from a broken wrist. Abdul’s knife found the vitals of the second in the instant that the fellow’s revolver missed fire as he held it to the faithful Arab’s forehead.
The maddened horde within the cafe were now rushing out in pursuit of their quarry. The Ouled-Nails had extinguished their candles at a cry from one of their number, and the only light within the yard came feebly from the open and half-blocked door of the cafe. Tarzan had seized a sword from the man who had fallen before Abdul’s knife, and now he stood waiting for the rush of men that was coming in search of them through the darkness.
Suddenly he felt a light hand upon his shoulder from behind, and a woman’s voice whispering, “Quick, m’sieur; this way. Follow me.”
“Come, Abdul,” said Tarzan, in a low tone, to the youth; “we can be no worse off elsewhere than we are here.”
The woman turned and led them up the narrow stairway that ended at the door of her quarters. Tarzan was close beside her. He saw the gold and silver bracelets upon her bare arms, the strings of gold coin that depended from her hair ornaments, and the gorgeous colors of her dress. He saw that she was a Ouled-Nail, and instinctively he knew that she was the same who had whispered the warning in his ear earlier in the evening.
As they reached the top of the stairs they could hear the angry crowd searching the yard beneath.
“Soon they will search here,” whispered the girl. “They must not find you, for, though you fight with the strength of many men, they will kill you in the end. Hasten; you can drop from the farther window of my room to the street beyond. Before they discover that you are no longer in the court of the buildings you will be safe within the hotel.”
But even as she spoke, several men had started up the stairway at the head of which they stood. There was a sudden cry from one of the searchers. They had been discovered. Quickly the crowd rushed for the stairway. The foremost assailant leaped quickly upward, but at the top he met the sudden sword that he had not expected — the quarry had been unarmed before.
With a cry, the man toppled back upon those behind him. Like tenpins they rolled down the stairs. The ancient and rickety structure could not withstand the strain of this unwonted weight and jarring. With a creaking and rending of breaking wood it collapsed beneath the Arabs, leaving Tarzan, Abdul, and the girl alone upon the frail platform at the top.
“Come!” cried the Ouled-Nail. “They will reach us from another stairway through the room next to mine. We have not a moment to spare.”
Just as they were entering the room Abdul heard and translated a cry from the yard below for several to hasten to the street and cut off escape from that side.
“We are lost now,” said the girl simply.
“We?” questioned Tarzan.
“Yes, m’sieur,” she responded; “they will kill me as well. Have I not aided you?”
This put a different aspect on the matter. Tarzan had rather been enjoying the excitement and danger of the encounter. He had not for an instant supposed that either Abdul or the girl could suffer except through accident, and he had only retreated just enough to keep from being killed himself. He had had no intention of running away until he saw that he was hopelessly lost were he to remain.
Alone he could have sprung into the midst of that close-packed mob, and, laying about him after the fashion of Numa, the lion, have struck the Arabs with such consternation that escape would have been easy. Now he must think entirely of these two faithful friends.
He crossed to the window which overlooked the street. In a minute there would be enemies below. Already he could hear the mob clambering the stairway to the next quarters — they would be at the door beside him in another instant. He put a foot upon the sill and leaned out, but he did not look down. Above him, within arm’s reach, was the low roof of the building. He called to the girl. She came and stood beside him. He put a great arm about her and lifted her across his shoulder.
“Wait here until I reach down for you from above,” he said to Abdul. “In the meantime shove everything in the room against that door — it may delay them long enough.” Then he stepped to the sill of the narrow window with the girl upon his shoulders. “Hold tight,” he cautioned her. A moment later he had clambered to the roof above with the ease and dexterity of an ape. Setting the girl down, he leaned far over the roof’s edge, calling softly to Abdul. The youth ran to the window.
“Your hand,” whispered Tarzan. The men in the room beyond were battering at the door. With a sudden crash it fell splintering in, and at the same instant Abdul felt himself lifted like a feather onto the roof above. They were not a moment too soon, for as the men broke into the room which they had just quitted a dozen more rounded the corner in the street below and came running to a spot beneath the girl’s window.
Chapter 8
The Fight in the Desert
As the three squatted upon the roof above the quarters of the Ouled-Nails they heard the angry cursing of the Arabs in the room beneath. Abdul translated from time to time to Tarzan.
“They are berating those in the street below now,” said Abdul, “for permitting us to escape so easily. Those in the street say that we did not come that way — that we are still within the building, and that those above, being too cowardly to attack us, are attempting to deceive them into believing that we have escaped. In a moment they will have fighting of their own to attend to if they continue their brawling.”
Presently those in the building gave up the search, and returned to the cafe. A few remained in the street below, smoking and talking.
Tarzan spoke to the girl, thanking her for the sacrifice she had made for him, a total stranger.
“I liked you,” she said simply. “You were unlike the others who come to the cafe. You did not speak coarsely to me — the manner in which you gave me money was not an insult.”
“What shall you do after tonight?” he asked. “You cannot return to the cafe. Can you even remain with safety in Sidi Aissa?”
“Tomorrow it will be forgotten,” she replied. “But I should be glad if it might be that I need never return to this or another cafe. I have not remained because I wished to; I have been a prisoner.”
“A prisoner!” ejaculated Tarzan incredulously.
“A slave would be the better word,” she answered.
“I was stolen in the night from my father’s DOUAR by a band of marauders. They brought me here and sold me to the Arab who keeps this cafe. It has been nearly two years now since I saw the last of mine own people. They are very far to the south. They never come to Sidi Aissa.”
“You would like to return to your people?” asked Tarzan. “Then I shall promise to see you safely so far as Bou Saada at least. There we can doubtless arrange with the commandant to send you the rest of the way.”
“Oh, m’sieur,” she cried, “how can I ever repay you! You cannot really mean that you will do so much for a poor Ouled-Nail. But my father can reward you, and he will, for is he not a great sheik? He is Kadour ben Saden.”
“Kadour ben Saden!” ejaculated Tarzan. “Why, Kadour ben Saden is in Sidi Aissa this very night. He dined with me but a few hours since.”
“My father in Sidi Aissa?” cried the amazed girl. “Allah be praised then, for I am indeed saved.”
“Hssh!” cautioned Abdul. “Listen.”
From below came the sound of voices, quite distinguishable upon the still night air. Tarzan could not understand the words, but Abdul and the girl translated.
“They have gone now,” said the latter. “It is you they want, m’sieur. One of them said that the stranger who had offered money for your slaying lay in the house of Akmed din Soulef with a broken wrist, but that he had offered a still greater reward if some would lay in wait for you upon the road to Bou Saada and kill you.”
“It is he who followed m’sieur about the market today,” exclaimed Abdul. “I saw him again within the cafe — him and another; and the two went out into the inner court after talking with this girl here. It was they who attacked and fired upon us, as we came out of the cafe. Why do they wish to kill you, m’sieur?”
“I do not know,” replied Tarzan, and then, after a pause: “Unless—” But he did not finish, for the thought that had come to his mind, while it seemed the only reasonable solution of the mystery, appeared at the same time quite improbable. Presently the men in the street went away. The courtyard and the cafe were deserted. Cautiously Tarzan lowered himself to the sill of the girl’s window. The room was empty. He returned to the roof and let Abdul down, then he lowered the girl to the arms of the waiting Arab.
From the window Abdul dropped the short distance to the street below, while Tarzan took the girl in his arms and leaped down as he had done on so many other occasions in his own forest with a burden in his arms. A little cry of alarm was startled from the girl’s lips, but Tarzan landed in the street with but an imperceptible jar, and lowered her in safety to her feet.
She clung to him for a moment.
“How strong m’sieur is, and how active,” she cried. “EL ADREA, the black lion, himself is not more so.”
“I should like to meet this EL ADREA of yours,” he said. “I have heard much about him.”
“And you come to the DOUAR of my father you shall see him,” said the girl. “He lives in a spur of the mountains north of us, and comes down from his lair at night to rob my father’s DOUAR. With a single blow of his mighty paw he crushes the skull of a bull, and woe betide the belated wayfarer who meets EL ADREA abroad at night.”
Without further mishap they reached the hotel. The sleepy landlord objected strenuously to instituting a search for Kadour ben Saden until the following morning, but a piece of gold put a different aspect on the matter, so that a few moments later a servant had started to make the rounds of the lesser native hostelries where it might be expected that a desert sheik would find congenial associations. Tarzan had felt it necessary to find the girl’s father that night, for fear he might start on his homeward journey too early in the morning to be intercepted.
They had waited perhaps half an hour when the messenger returned with Kadour ben Saden. The old sheik entered the room with a questioning expression upon his proud face.
“Monsieur has done me the honor to—” he commenced, and then his eyes fell upon the girl. With outstretched arms he crossed the room to meet her. “My daughter!” he cried. “Allah is merciful!” and tears dimmed the martial eyes of the old warrior.
When the story of her abduction and her final rescue had been told to Kadour ben Saden he extended his hand to Tarzan.
“All that is Kadour ben Saden’s is thine, my friend, even to his life,” he said very simply, but Tarzan knew that those were no idle words.
It was decided that although three of them would have to ride after practically no sleep, it would be best to make an early start in the morning, and attempt to ride all the way to Bou Saada in one day. It would have been comparatively easy for the men, but for the girl it was sure to be a fatiguing journey.
She, however, was the most anxious to undertake it, for it seemed to her that she could not quickly enough reach the family and friends from whom she had been separated for two years.
It seemed to Tarzan that he had not closed his eyes before he was awakened, and in another hour the party was on its way south toward Bou Saada. For a few miles the road was good, and they made rapid progress, but suddenly it became only a waste of sand, into which the horses sank fetlock deep at nearly every step. In addition to Tarzan, Abdul, the sheik, and his daughter were four of the wild plainsmen of the sheik’s tribe who had accompanied him upon the trip to Sidi Aissa. Thus, seven guns strong, they entertained little fear of attack by day, and if all went well they should reach Bou Saada before nightfall.
A brisk wind enveloped them in the blowing sand of the desert, until Tarzan’s lips were parched and cracked. What little he could see of the surrounding country was far from alluring — a vast expanse of rough country, rolling in little, barren hillocks, and tufted here and there with clumps of dreary shrub. Far to the south rose the dim lines of the Saharan Atlas range. How different, thought Tarzan, from the gorgeous Africa of his boyhood!
Abdul, always on the alert, looked backward quite as often as he did ahead. At the top of each hillock that they mounted he would draw in his horse and, turning, scan the country to the rear with utmost care. At last his scrutiny was rewarded.
“Look!” he cried. “There are six horsemen behind us.”
“Your friends of last evening, no doubt, monsieur,” remarked Kadour ben Saden dryly to Tarzan.
“No doubt,” replied the ape-man. “I am sorry that my society should endanger the safety of your journey. At the next village I shall remain and question these gentlemen, while you ride on. There is no necessity for my being at Bou Saada tonight, and less still why you should not ride in peace.”
“If you stop we shall stop,” said Kadour ben Saden. “Until you are safe with your friends, or the enemy has left your trail, we shall remain with you. There is nothing more to say.”
Tarzan nodded his head. He was a man of few words, and possibly it was for this reason as much as any that Kadour ben Saden had taken to him, for if there be one thing that an Arab despises it is a talkative man.
All the balance of the day Abdul caught glimpses of the horsemen in their rear. They remained always at about the same distance. During the occasional halts for rest, and at the longer halt at noon, they approached no closer.
“They are waiting for darkness,” said Kadour ben Saden.
And darkness came before they reached Bou Saada. The last glimpse that Abdul had of the grim, white-robed figures that trailed them, just before dusk made it impossible to distinguish them, had made it apparent that they were rapidly closing up the distance that intervened between them and their intended quarry. He whispered this fact to Tarzan, for he did not wish to alarm the girl. The ape-man drew back beside him.
“You will ride ahead with the others, Abdul,” said Tarzan. “This is my quarrel. I shall wait at the next convenient spot, and interview these fellows.”
“Then Abdul shall wait at thy side,” replied the young Arab, nor would any threats or commands move him from his decision.
“Very well, then,” replied Tarzan. “Here is as good a place as we co
uld wish. Here are rocks at the top of this hillock. We shall remain hidden here and give an account of ourselves to these gentlemen when they appear.”
They drew in their horses and dismounted. The others riding ahead were already out of sight in the darkness. Beyond them shone the lights of Bou Saada. Tarzan removed his rifle from its boot and loosened his revolver in its holster. He ordered Abdul to withdraw behind the rocks with the horses, so that they should be shielded from the enemies’ bullets should they fire. The young Arab pretended to do as he was bid, but when he had fastened the two animals securely to a low shrub he crept back to lie on his belly a few paces behind Tarzan.
The ape-man stood erect in the middle of the road, waiting. Nor did he have long to wait. The sound of galloping horses came suddenly out of the darkness below him, and a moment later he discerned the moving blotches of lighter color against the solid background of the night.
“Halt,” he cried, “or we fire!”
The white figures came to a sudden stop, and for a moment there was silence. Then came the sound of a whispered council, and like ghosts the phantom riders dispersed in all directions. Again the desert lay still about him, yet it was an ominous stillness that foreboded evil.
Abdul raised himself to one knee. Tarzan cocked his jungle-trained ears, and presently there came to him the sound of horses walking quietly through the sand to the east of him, to the west, to the north, and to the south. They had been surrounded. Then a shot came from the direction in which he was looking, a bullet whirred through the air above his head, and he fired at the flash of the enemy’s gun.
Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26) Page 35