The Complete Tarzan Collection

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Following the scent spoor of the two girls, Tarzan and d'Arnot found themselves in a third cavern of the temple, facing two bull apes.

  "Where are the shes?" demanded Tarzan.

  Zu-tho pointed toward the lake. "They jump," he said, "in water."

  Tarzan looked out to see the Asharian galley rowing in the direction of the city; then he and d'Arnot returned to the throne room and related what they had seen. "I am going to take the apes to Ashair," he said. "With their help, I may be able to bring the girls out."

  "My priests shall go with you," said Chon, and the party soon set out from the temple, the men armed with tridents and knives, the apes with their terrible fangs and their mighty muscles.

  An excited warrior rushed into the throne room of Atka and knelt before her. "O Queen!" he cried, "a great fleet of war galleys is approaching from Thobos."

  Atka turned to one of her aides. "Order out the entire fleet," she directed. "This day we shall destroy the power of Thobos forever."

  As the Asharian horde embarked at the quay, Tarzan of the Apes looked down from the hillside above the city and watched them; and in the distance, approaching Ashair, he saw the war fleet of Herat approaching.

  "Now is the time," he said to his motley followers, "we shall have fewer warriors to oppose us."

  "We cannot fail," said a priest, "for Chon has blessed us."

  A few minutes later the Lord of the Jungle led his little band over the wall into The Forbidden City. It was a bold, rash venture—at best a forlorn hope that thus they might succeed in saving Helen and Magra from death or an even more horrible fate. Success or failure—which would it be?

  As the two fleets met amid the war cries of the opposing warriors, quarter was neither asked nor given, for each side felt that this was to be a battle to the death that would determine for all time which city was to rule the valley of Tuen-Baka. And while this bloody battle was being waged on sacred Horus, another battle was taking place before the gates of Atka's palace, as Tarzan sought to lead his little band into the presence of the Queen. It was Atka he sought, for he knew that with Atka in his power he could force the Asharians to give up their prisoners—if they still lived.

  Finally they overcame the resistance at the gates, and Tarzan forced his way at the head of his company into the throne room of the Queen.

  "I have come for the two women," he said. "Release them to me, and we will go away; refuse, and we shall go away; but we shall take you with us."

  Atka sat in silence for a few minutes, her eyes fixed upon Tarzan. She was trembling slightly and appeared to be making an effort to gain control over her emotions. At last she spoke. "You have won," she said. "The women shall be fetched at once."

  As Tarzan and his triumphant band led the girls from Ashair, Magra clung to his arm. "Oh, Tarzan," she whispered, "I knew that you would come. My love told me that you would."

  The ape-man shook his head impatiently. "I do not like such talk," he said; "it is not for us. Leave that to Helen and Paul."

  Herat, victorious, entered Ashair, the first king of Thobos to set foot within The Forbidden City. From the opening in the cavern of Chon, that looked out over the lake, Chon had seen the Asharian fleet demolished and the victorious Thobotian fleet steer toward Ashair; and when Tarzan and his party returned and the ape-man learned of the successful outcome of Herat's expedition, he had Chon send a messenger to Ashair to summon Herat, in the true god's name, to the temple.

  When the greetings between Herat and Chon were concluded, the true god blessed the entire party, giving credit to the strangers for their part in the restoration of The Father of Diamonds to the temple of Chon and the successful reuniting of the King and the true god; then Herat, to demonstrate his own appreciation, offered to outfit the Gregory party and furnish them with galleys to take them out of Tuen-Baka. At last, their troubles seemed over.

  "We are reunited and safe," said Gregory, "and, above all others, we owe it to you, Tarzan. How can we ever repay you?"

  Gregory was interrupted by maniacal screams, as two of Herat's warriors who had been among the guard left at the outer entrance to the caverns, entered the temple, dragging Atan Thome between them.

  "This man has a casket," reported one of the warriors, "which he says contains The Father of Diamonds."

  "The true Father of Diamonds, which Herkuf just brought with him from Thobos," said Chon, "rests here in its casket on the altar before me. There cannot be two. Let us have a look at what the man has in his casket."

  "No!" shrieked Atan Thome. "Don't open it! It is mine, and I have been waiting to open it in Paris. I shall buy all of Paris with it and be king of France!"

  "Silence, mortal!" commanded Chon; then, very deliberately, he opened the casket, while the trembling Thorne stared with mad eyes at the contents —a small lump of coal.

  At sight of it, realizing what it was, Atan Thome screamed, clutched his heart, and fell dead at the foot of the altar of the true god.

  "For this false and accursed thing," exclaimed Brian Gregory, "we have all suffered, and many have died; yet the irony of it is that it is, in truth, The Father of Diamonds."

  "Men are strange beasts," said Tarzan.

  THE END

  EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

  TARZAN AND THE CASTAWAYS

  BOOK 22 IN THE TARZAN SERIES

  Originally published as 3 novelettes:

  "Tarzan And The Champion" (The Blue Book Magazine, April 1940)

  "Tarzan And The Jungle Murders" (Thrilling Adventures magazine, June 1940)

  "The Quest of Tarzan" (The Argosy magazine, August 23—September 6, 1941)

  First Book Edition—Canaveral Press, 1965

  * * *

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

   Chapter 1

   Chapter 2

   Chapter 3

   Chapter 4

   Chapter 5

   Chapter 6

   Chapter 7

   Chapter 8

   Chapter 9

   Chapter 10

   Chapter 11

   Chapter 12

   Chapter 13

   Chapter 14

   Chapter 15

   Chapter 16

   Chapter 17

   Chapter 18

   Chapter 19

   Chapter 20

   Chapter 21

   Chapter 22

   Chapter 23

   Chapter 24

  * * *

  CHAPTER 1

  It is sometimes difficult to know just where to begin a story. I recall an acquaintance of mine who, in telling of an accident wherein a neighbor had fallen down the cellar stairs and broken her leg, would recount all the marriages and deaths in the family for a generation or two back before getting to the point of the story.

  In the present instance, I might go back to Ah Cuitok Tutul Xiu, the Mayan, who founded Uxmal in Yucatan in 1004 A.D.; and from him on to Chab Xib Chac, the Red Man, who destroyed Mayapan in 1451 and murdered the entire Cocom family of tyrants; but I shall not. I shall simply mention that Chac Tutul Xiu, a descendant of Ah Cuitok Tutul Xiu, motivated by that strange migratory urge of the Maya and by the advice of the Ah Kin Mai, or chief priest, left Uxmal with many of his followers, nobles, warriors, women, and slaves, and went to the coast where he constructed several large double dugout canoes and embarked therein upon the broad Pacific, never again to be heard of in his homeland.

  That was in 1452 or 1453. From there I might make a broad calendric jump of some four hundred eighty-five or six years to modern times and to the island of Uxmal in the South Pacific, where Cit Coh Xiu is king; but I shall not do that either, since it would be anticipating my story.

  Instead, I take you to the deck of the Saigon, a battered old tramp steamer awaiting at Mombasa to load wild animals for shipment to the United States. From below and from cages on deck come the plaints and threats of captured beasts; the deep-throated rumblings of lions, the trumpeting of elepha
nts, the obscene "laugh" of hyenas, the chattering of monkeys.

  At the rail two men are deep in argument: "But I tell you, Abdullah," one was saying, "we are practically ready to sail; the last consignment should be here within the week, and every day my expenses are mounting. It might take you a month to bring him in; you might not get him at all."

  "I cannot fail, Sahib Krause," replied Abdullah Abu Nejm. "He has received an injury; that I know from Ndalo, in whose country he now is; and so he may be taken easily. Think of it, Sahib! A real wild-man, raised by apes from infancy, the play fellow of elephants, the killer of lions. Wellah? he would be worth more than all your shipload of wild beasts in the land of the Nasara; he would make you a rich man, Sahib Krause."

  "As I understand it, the fellow speaks English as well as the damned British themselves; I have heard of him for years. How long do you suppose I could exhibit in a cage in the United States a white man who can speak English? Abdullah, you are always saying that we Nasara are mad; I think it is you who are mad."

  "You do not understand," replied the Arab. "This injury which he has suffered had deprived him of speech and the knowledge of speech; in that respect, he would be as your other beasts. They cannot complain, so that anyone can understand them; neither could he."

  "Aphasia," muttered Krause.

  "What did you say, Sahib?"

  "That is the name of the affliction which has resulted in your man's loss of speech," explained Krause; "It is caused by a brain lesion. It puts a different aspect on the matter; the thing might be done—and very profitably; but yet—" , He hesitated.

  "You do not like the English, Sahib?" inquired Abdullah.

  "I do not," snapped Krause. "Why do you ask?"

  "This man is an Englishman," replied the Arab in his oiliest tones.

  "What would you want for bringing him in?"

  "The expenses of my safari, which would be very little, and the price of one lion."

  "You do not ask much for so great a catch," commented Krause; "why is that? I expected you to rob me—as usual."

  The Arab's eyes narrowed, and his sinister face seemed a mask of hate. "He is my enemy," he said.

  "How long will it take?"

  "Less than a month," replied Abdullah.

  "I shall wait thirty days," said Krause; "then I shall sail, whether you are back or not."

  * * * * *

  "I am bored," said the girl. "Mombasa! I hate it."

  "You are always complaining," growled Krause; "I don't know why the devil I brought you along; anyway, we sail in three days, whether that Arab dog is back or not; then I suppose you'll find something else to grouse about."

  "It must be a very valuable specimen Abdullah is bringing you," said the girl.

  "It is."

  "What is it, Fritz—a pink elephant or a crimson lion?"

  "It is a wild man, but keep it to yourself—the English pigs would never let me take him aboard, if they knew."

  "A wild man! One of those whose heads come up to a little point on top, like a cone? He should have a little tuft of hair right on the tip top of the cone, and his nose should spread all across his face, and he shouldn't have any chin. Is he like that, Fritz?"

  "I have never seen him, but I suppose he is just like that—that has been orthodox ever since Barnum's What-is-it."

  "Look, Fritz! Here comes Abdullah now."

  The swart Arab came over the side and approached them; his face betokened nothing of either the success or failure of his mission.

  "Marhaba!" Krause greeted him. "Ey khabar."

  "The best of tidings, Sahib," replied Abdullah. "I have him, just outside of town, in a wooden cage covered with matting, so that none may see what is within; but billah! what a time we had in capturing him! We took him in a net, but he killed three of Ndalo's warriors before they could tie his hands behind him. He is strong as a lion. We have had to keep his hands tied ever since we got him: he would have torn that wooden cage to pieces in an instant, had we not."

  "I have an iron cage that he cannot tear to pieces," said Krause.

  "I would not be too sure of that," cautioned the Arab. "If your cage could not withstand the strength of a lion, you had still better keep his hands tied."

  "My cage would not hold an elephant," said Krause, "but if it could, it would be strong enough."

  "I would still keep his hands tied," persisted Abdullah.

  "Has he spoken?" asked Krause.

  "No; not a word—he just sits and looks. There is neither hate nor fear in his eyes—he reminds me of el adrea; I am always expecting to hear him roar. We have to feed him by hand, and when he eats his meat, he growls like el adrea."

  "Wonderful!" exclaimed Krause. "He will be a sensation. I can just see those fool Americans begging to pay good money to see him. Now listen— I shall clear this afternoon and stand up the coast, returning after dark. Load the cage on a dhow below the town and stand straight out until you pick up my signal—I'll blink my running light three times in rapid succession at intervals; then you show a light. Do you understand?"

  "It is already done," said Abdullah Abu Nejm.

  * * * * *

  The wind had risen and a sea was running when Abdullah picked up the Saigon's signal. Maneuvering the dhow into position along the lee side of the steamer was finally accomplished. Tackle was lowered and made fast to the cage containing the wild man. Abdullah was guiding the cage as it was hoisted from the dhow, when suddenly the Saigon rolled over away from the smaller craft; the cage was jerked suddenly upward; and Abdullah, fearing that he would be hurled into the sea, clung to it. The cage crashed against the side of the steamer; the men above continued to hoist; then the Saigon rolled back and crashed down upon the dhow, swamping it.

  All of the crew of the dhow were lost, and Abdullah was aboard the steamer bound for America. He filled the air with "billahs!" and "Wullah-bullahs!" and called upon Allah to preserve him.

  "You're damn lucky to be alive," Krause told him. "You'll make a lot of money in America. I'll exhibit you, too, as the sheik who captured the wild man; they'll pay plenty to see a real sheik straight from the desert. I'll buy a camel for you, and you can ride through the streets with a banner advertising the show."

  "I, Abdullah Abu Nejm, exhibited like a wild beast!" screamed the Arab. "Never!"

  Krause shrugged. "Have it your own way," he said; "but don't forget, you got to eat, and you won't find many free date trees in America. I'll feed you until we get there, but after that you're on your own."

  "Dog of a Nasrany!" muttered the Arab.

  CHAPTER 2

  The following morning was fair, with a brisk wind, as the Saigon steamed northeastward across the Indian Ocean. The animals on deck were quiet. A wooden cage, entirely covered with matting, was lashed down amidships. No sound came from it, either.

  Janette Laon followed Krause on deck; her black hair was blowing in the wind, which pressed her light dress against her, revealing a figure of exceptional allure. Wilhelm Schmidt, the 2nd mate of the Saigon, leaning with his back against the rail, watched her through half-closed eyes.

  "Now may I see your wild man, Fritz?" asked the girl.

  "I hope he's still alive," said the man; "he must have got an awful beating when we hauled him aboard last night."

  "Haven't you tried to find out?" she demanded.

  "Couldn't have done anything for him, anyway," replied Krause. "From what Abdullah told me, he'd be a mean customer to handle. Come on; we'll have a look at him. Hey, you!" he called to a Lascar sailor; "take the matting off that cage."

  As they watched the man at work, Schmidt came over and joined them. "What you got in there, Mr. Krause?" he asked.

  "A wild man; ever see one?"

  "I saw a Frenchie once, whose wife had run off with the chauffeur," said Schmidt; "he sure was a wild man."

  The sailor had removed the lashings, and now he dragged away the matting. Inside the cage, a giant figure squatted on his haunches, appraising the
m with level gaze.

  "Why, he's a white man!" exclaimed the girl.

  "So he is," said Krause.

  "You going to keep a man penned up in a cage like a beast?" asked Schmidt.

  "He's only white on the outside," said Krause—"he's an Englishman."

  Schmidt spat into the cage. The girl stamped her foot angrily. "Don't ever do that again," she said.

  "What's he to you?" demanded Krause. "Didn't you hear me say he's nothing but a dirty English pig."

  "He's a human being and a white man," replied the girl.

  "He's a dummy," retorted Krause; "can't speak a word nor understand one. It's an honor for him to be spit on by a German."

  "Nevertheless, don't let Schmidt do it again."

  The ship's bell sounded, and Schmidt went to relieve the 1st mate on the bridge.

  "He's the pig," said the girl, looking after Schmidt.

  The two stood looking at the wild man as Hans de Groote came down from the bridge and joined them. The Dutchman was a good looking young fellow in his early twenties; he had been signed on as 1st mate at Batavia on the trip out, after his predecessor had mysteriously "fallen overboard." Schmidt, who thought that he should have had the assignment, hated him and made no effort to conceal the fact. That there was bad blood between them was nothing to cause comment aboard the Saigon, for bad blood was the rule rather than the exception.

  Larsen, the captain, who was now confined to his cabin with a bad attack of fever, was not on speaking terms with Krause, who had chartered the ship; while the crew, made up principally of Lascars and Chinese, were always on the verge of knifing one another. On the whole, the captive beasts were the most admirable creatures aboard.

  De Groote stood looking at the man in the cage for several seconds before he spoke. His reaction was almost identical with that of the girl and Schmidt. "He's a white man!" he exclaimed. "You're certainly not going to keep him in a cage like a wild beast!"

  "That's exactly what I'm going to do," snapped Krause, "and it's none of your damned business, nor anyone else's," and he shot a scowling glance at the girl.