“Show me where she sleeps,” said Tarzan; “let me see something that belongs to her — an article of her apparel — then, doubtless, I can help you.”
Two young warriors climbed closer to the ledge upon which Om-at stood. They were In-sad and O-dan. It was the latter who spoke.
“Gund of Kor-ul-JA,” he said, “we would go with you to search for Pan-at-lee.”
It was the first acknowledgment of Om-at’s chieftainship and immediately following it the tenseness that had prevailed seemed to relax — the warriors spoke aloud instead of in whispers, and the women appeared from the mouths of caves as with the passing of a sudden storm. In-sad and O-dan had taken the lead and now all seemed glad to follow. Some came to talk with Om-at and to look more closely at Tarzan; others, heads of caves, gathered their hunters and discussed the business of the day. The women and children prepared to descend to the fields with the youths and the old men, whose duty it was to guard them.
“O-dan and In-sad shall go with us,” announced Om-at, “we shall not need more. Tarzan, come with me and I shall show you where Pan-at-lee sleeps, though why you should wish to know I cannot guess — she is not there. I have looked for myself.”
The two entered the cave where Om-at led the way to the apartment in which Es-sat had surprised Pan-at-lee the previous night.
“All here are hers,” said Om-at, “except the war club lying on the floor — that was Es-sat’s.”
The ape-man moved silently about the apartment, the quivering of his sensitive nostrils scarcely apparent to his companion who only wondered what good purpose could be served here and chafed at the delay.
“Come!” said the ape-man, presently, and led the way toward the outer recess.
Here their three companions were awaiting them. Tarzan passed to the left side of the niche and examined the pegs that lay within reach. He looked at them but it was not his eyes that were examining them. Keener than his keen eyes was that marvelously trained sense of scent that had first been developed in him during infancy under the tutorage of his foster mother, Kala, the she-ape, and further sharpened in the grim jungles by that master teacher — the instinct of self-preservation.
From the left side of the niche he turned to the right. Om-at was becoming impatient.
“Let us be off,” he said. “We must search for Pan-at-lee if we would ever find her.”
“Where shall we search?” asked Tarzan.
Om-at scratched his head. “Where?” he repeated. “Why all Pal-ul-don, if necessary.”
“A large job,” said Tarzan. “Come,” he added, “she went this way,” and he took to the pegs that led aloft toward the summit of the cliff. Here he followed the scent easily since none had passed that way since Pan-at-lee had fled. At the point at which she had left the permanent pegs and resorted to those carried with her Tarzan came to an abrupt halt. “She went this way to the summit,” he called back to Om-at who was directly behind him; “but there are no pegs here.”
“I do not know how you know that she went this way,” said Om-at; “but we will get pegs. In-sad, return and fetch climbing pegs for five.”
The young warrior was soon back and the pegs distributed. Om-at handed five to Tarzan and explained their use. The ape-man returned one. “I need but four,” he said.
Om-at smiled. “What a wonderful creature you would be if you were not deformed,” he said, glancing with pride at his own strong tail.
“I admit that I am handicapped,” replied Tarzan. “You others go ahead and leave the pegs in place for me. I am afraid that otherwise it will be slow work as I cannot hold the pegs in my toes as you do.”
“All right,” agreed Om-at; “Ta-den, In-sad, and I will go first, you follow and O-dan bring up the rear and collect the pegs — we cannot leave them here for our enemies.”
“Can’t your enemies bring their own pegs?” asked Tarzan.
“Yes; but it delays them and makes easier our defense and — they do not know which of all the holes you see are deep enough for pegs — the others are made to confuse our enemies and are too shallow to hold a peg.”
At the top of the cliff beside the gnarled tree Tarzan again took up the trail. Here the scent was fully as strong as upon the pegs and the ape-man moved rapidly across the ridge in the direction of the Kor-ul-lul.
Presently he paused and turned toward Om-at. “Here she moved swiftly, running at top speed, and, Om-at, she was pursued by a lion.”
“You can read that in the grass?” asked O-dan as the others gathered about the ape-man.
Tarzan nodded. “I do not think the lion got her,” he added; “but that we shall determine quickly. No, he did not get her — look!” and he pointed toward the southwest, down the ridge.
Following the direction indicated by his finger, the others presently detected a movement in some bushes a couple of hundred yards away.
“What is it?” asked Om-at. “It is she?” and he started toward the spot.
“Wait,” advised Tarzan. “It is the lion which pursued her.”
“You can see him?” asked Ta-den.
“No, I can smell him.”
The others looked their astonishment and incredulity; but of the fact that it was indeed a lion they were not left long in doubt. Presently the bushes parted and the creature stepped out in full view, facing them. It was a magnificent beast, large and beautifully maned, with the brilliant leopard spots of its kind well marked and symmetrical. For a moment it eyed them and then, still chafing at the loss of its prey earlier in the morning, it charged.
The Pal-ul-donians unslung their clubs and stood waiting the onrushing beast. Tarzan of the Apes drew his hunting knife and crouched in the path of the fanged fury. It was almost upon him when it swerved to the right and leaped for Om-at only to be sent to earth with a staggering blow upon the head. Almost instantly it was up and though the men rushed fearlessly in, it managed to sweep aside their weapons with its mighty paws. A single blow wrenched O-dan’s club from his hand and sent it hurtling against Ta-den, knocking him from his feet. Taking advantage of its opportunity the lion rose to throw itself upon O-dan and at the same instant Tarzan flung himself upon its back. Strong, white teeth buried themselves in the spotted neck, mighty arms encircled the savage throat and the sinewy legs of the ape-man locked themselves about the gaunt belly.
The others, powerless to aid, stood breathlessly about as the great lion lunged hither and thither, clawing and biting fearfully and futilely at the savage creature that had fastened itself upon him. Over and over they rolled and now the onlookers saw a brown hand raised above the lion’s side — a brown hand grasping a keen blade. They saw it fall and rise and fall again — each time with terrific force and in its wake they saw a crimson stream trickling down JA’s gorgeous coat.
Now from the lion’s throat rose hideous screams of hate and rage and pain as he redoubled his efforts to dislodge and punish his tormentor; but always the tousled black head remained half buried in the dark brown mane and the mighty arm rose and fell to plunge the knife again and again into the dying beast.
The Pal-ul-donians stood in mute wonder and admiration. Brave men and mighty hunters they were and as such the first to accord honor to a mightier.
“And you would have had me slay him!” cried Om-at, glancing at In-sad and O-dan.
“Jad-ben-Otho reward you that you did not,” breathed In-sad.
And now the lion lunged suddenly to earth and with a few spasmodic quiverings lay still. The ape-man rose and shook himself, even as might JA, the leopard-coated lion of Pal-ul-don, had he been the one to survive.
O-dan advanced quickly toward Tarzan. Placing a palm upon his own breast and the other on Tarzan’s, “Tarzan the Terrible,” he said, “I ask no greater honor than your friendship.”
“And I no more than the friendship of Om-at’s friends,” replied the ape-man simply, returning the other’s salute.
“Do you think,” asked Om-at, coming close to Tarzan and laying a hand upon t
he other’s shoulder, “that he got her?”
“No, my friend; it was a hungry lion that charged us.”
“You seem to know much of lions,” said In-sad.
“Had I a brother I could not know him better,” replied Tarzan.
“Then where can she be?” continued Om-at.
“We can but follow while the spoor is fresh,” answered the ape-man and again taking up his interrupted tracking he led them down the ridge and at a sharp turning of the trail to the left brought them to the verge of the cliff that dropped into the Kor-ul-lul. For a moment Tarzan examined the ground to the right and to the left, then he stood erect and looking at Om-at pointed into the gorge.
For a moment the Waz-don gazed down into the green rift at the bottom of which a tumultuous river tumbled downward along its rocky bed, then he closed his eyes as to a sudden spasm of pain and turned away.
“You — mean — she jumped?” he asked.
“To escape the lion,” replied Tarzan. “He was right behind her — look, you can see where his four paws left their impress in the turf as he checked his charge upon the very verge of the abyss.”
“Is there any chance—” commenced Om-at, to be suddenly silenced by a warning gesture from Tarzan.
“Down!” whispered the ape-man, “many men are coming. They are running — from down the ridge.” He flattened himself upon his belly in the grass, the others following his example.
For some minutes they waited thus and then the others, too, heard the sound of running feet and now a hoarse shout followed by many more.
“It is the war cry of the Kor-ul-lul,” whispered Om-at— “the hunting cry of men who hunt men. Presently shall we see them and if Jad-ben-Otho is pleased with us they shall not too greatly outnumber us.”
“They are many,” said Tarzan, “forty or fifty, I should say; but how many are the pursued and how many the pursuers we cannot even guess, except that the latter must greatly outnumber the former, else these would not run so fast.”
“Here they come,” said Ta-den.
“It is An-un, father of Pan-at-lee, and his two sons,” exclaimed O-dan. “They will pass without seeing us if we do not hurry,” he added looking at Om-at, the chief, for a sign.
“Come!” cried the latter, springing to his feet and running rapidly to intercept the three fugitives. The others followed him.
“Five friends!” shouted Om-at as An-un and his sons discovered them.
“Adenen yo!” echoed O-dan and In-sad.
The fugitives scarcely paused as these unexpected reinforcements joined them but they eyed Ta-den and Tarzan with puzzled glances.
“The Kor-ul-lul are many,” shouted An-un. “Would that we might pause and fight; but first we must warn Es-sat and our people.”
“Yes,” said Om-at, “we must warn our people.”
“Es-sat is dead,” said In-sad.
“Who is chief?” asked one of An-un’s sons.
“Om-at,” replied O-dan.
“It is well,” cried An-un. “Pan-at-lee said that you would come back and slay Es-sat.”
Now the enemy broke into sight behind them.
“Come!” cried Tarzan, “let us turn and charge them, raising a great cry. They pursued but three and when they see eight charging upon them they will think that many men have come to do battle. They will believe that there are more even than they see and then one who is swift will have time to reach the gorge and warn your people.”
“It is well,” said Om-at. “Id-an, you are swift — carry word to the warriors of Kor-ul-JA that we fight the Kor-ul-lul upon the ridge and that Ab-on shall send a hundred men.”
Id-an, the son of An-un, sped swiftly toward the cliff-dwellings of the Kor-ul-JA while the others charged the oncoming Kor-ul-lul, the war cries of the two tribes rising and falling in a certain grim harmony. The leaders of the Kor-ul-lul paused at sight of the reinforcements, waiting apparently for those behind to catch up with them and, possibly, also to learn how great a force confronted them. The leaders, swifter runners than their fellows, perhaps, were far in advance while the balance of their number had not yet emerged from the brush; and now as Om-at and his companions fell upon them with a ferocity born of necessity they fell back, so that when their companions at last came in sight of them they appeared to be in full rout. The natural result was that the others turned and fled.
Encouraged by this first success Om-at followed them into the brush, his little company charging valiantly upon his either side, and loud and terrifying were the savage yells with which they pursued the fleeing enemy. The brush, while not growing so closely together as to impede progress, was of such height as to hide the members of the party from one another when they became separated by even a few yards. The result was that Tarzan, always swift and always keen for battle, was soon pursuing the enemy far in the lead of the others — a lack of prudence which was to prove his undoing.
The warriors of Kor-ul-lul, doubtless as valorous as their foemen, retreated only to a more strategic position in the brush, nor were they long in guessing that the number of their pursuers was fewer than their own. They made a stand then where the brush was densest — an ambush it was, and into this ran Tarzan of the Apes. They tricked him neatly. Yes, sad as is the narration of it, they tricked the wily jungle lord. But then they were fighting on their own ground, every foot of which they knew as you know your front parlor, and they were following their own tactics, of which Tarzan knew nothing.
A single black warrior appeared to Tarzan a laggard in the rear of the retreating enemy and thus retreating he lured Tarzan on. At last he turned at bay confronting the ape-man with bludgeon and drawn knife and as Tarzan charged him a score of burly Waz-don leaped from the surrounding brush. Instantly, but too late, the giant Tarmangani realized his peril. There flashed before him a vision of his lost mate and a great and sickening regret surged through him with the realization that if she still lived she might no longer hope, for though she might never know of the passing of her lord the fact of it must inevitably seal her doom.
And consequent to this thought there enveloped him a blind frenzy of hatred for these creatures who dared thwart his purpose and menace the welfare of his wife. With a savage growl he threw himself upon the warrior before him twisting the heavy club from the creature’s hand as if he had been a little child, and with his left fist backed by the weight and sinew of his giant frame, he crashed a shattering blow to the center of the Waz-don’s face — a blow that crushed the bones and dropped the fellow in his tracks. Then he swung upon the others with their fallen comrade’s bludgeon striking to right and left mighty, unmerciful blows that drove down their own weapons until that wielded by the ape-man was splintered and shattered. On either hand they fell before his cudgel; so rapid the delivery of his blows, so catlike his recovery that in the first few moments of the battle he seemed invulnerable to their attack; but it could not last — he was outnumbered twenty to one and his undoing came from a thrown club. It struck him upon the back of the head. For a moment he stood swaying and then like a great pine beneath the woodsman’s ax he crashed to earth.
Others of the Kor-ul-lul had rushed to engage the balance of Om-at’s party. They could be heard fighting at a short distance and it was evident that the Kor-ul-JA were falling slowly back and as they fell Om-at called to the missing one: “Tarzan the Terrible! Tarzan the Terrible!”
“Jad-guru, indeed,” repeated one of the Kor-ul-lul rising from where Tarzan had dropped him. “Tarzan-jad-guru! He was worse than that.”
CHAPTER 5
In the Kor-ul-GRYF
As Tarzan fell among his enemies a man halted many miles away upon the outer verge of the morass that encircles Pal-ul-don. Naked he was except for a loin cloth and three belts of cartridges, two of which passed over his shoulders, crossing upon his chest and back, while the third encircled his waist. Slung to his back by its leathern sling-strap was an Enfield, and he carried too a long knife, a bow and a quiver of arrows. He had
come far, through wild and savage lands, menaced by fierce beasts and fiercer men, yet intact to the last cartridge was the ammunition that had filled his belts the day that he set out.
The bow and the arrows and the long knife had brought him thus far safely, yet often in the face of great risks that could have been minimized by a single shot from the well-kept rifle at his back. What purpose might he have for conserving this precious ammunition? in risking his life to bring the last bright shining missile to his unknown goal? For what, for whom were these death-dealing bits of metal preserved? In all the world only he knew.
When Pan-at-lee stepped over the edge of the cliff above Kor-ul-lul she expected to be dashed to instant death upon the rocks below; but she had chosen this in preference to the rending fangs of JA. Instead, chance had ordained that she make the frightful plunge at a point where the tumbling river swung close beneath the overhanging cliff to eddy for a slow moment in a deep pool before plunging madly downward again in a cataract of boiling foam, and water thundering against rocks.
Into this icy pool the girl shot, and down and down beneath the watery surface until, half choked, yet fighting bravely, she battled her way once more to air. Swimming strongly she made the opposite shore and there dragged herself out upon the bank to lie panting and spent until the approaching dawn warned her to seek concealment, for she was in the country of her people’s enemies.
Rising, she moved into the concealment of the rank vegetation that grows so riotously in the well-watered kors of Pal-ul-don.
Hidden amidst the plant life from the sight of any who might chance to pass along the well-beaten trail that skirted the river Pan-at-lee sought rest and food, the latter growing in abundance all about her in the form of fruits and berries and succulent tubers which she scooped from the earth with the knife of the dead Es-sat.
Ah! if she had but known that he was dead! What trials and risks and terrors she might have been saved; but she thought that he still lived and so she dared not return to Kor-ul-JA. At least not yet while his rage was at white heat. Later, perhaps, her father and brothers returned to their cave, she might risk it; but not now — not now. Nor could she for long remain here in the neighborhood of the hostile Kor-ul-lul and somewhere she must find safety from beasts before the night set in.
Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26) Page 178