The Complete Tarzan Collection

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  And as a result of their plea, Galla Galla gave all the prisoners the freedom of the village during the day time, placing the guards at the village gates instead of at the doorway of the hut in which they had been confined. And at night there were no guards at all, since the village gates were then closed and locked and the dangers of the jungle were sufficient to keep any one from attempting to escape. The boys had really had little hope that their request would be granted, and there is little likelihood that it would have been, but for the shrewdness of Ukundo, who had accurately gauged the impression Doc's wizardry had made upon Galla Galla, measuring it, doubtless, by the awe that it had created in his own superstitious mind. It was due to Ukundo, therefore, that Bulala did not transmit the message in the form of a request. Instead, Zopinga had carried a demand to his chief, backed by a threat that the white boy witch- doctor would loose some very much more terrible medicine upon him, if he refused to permit them the freedom of the village; and Ukundo had been careful to insure that the demand included both Bulala and himself.

  Influenced by their fear of Doc's magic, the villagers treated the boys with more respect than they would ordinarily have been accorded and there was one youth in particular who gave them a very wide berth, keeping as far from them as possible. This was Paabu, the youth within whose thick skull it was popularly believed reposed the big medicine of the white boy witch-doctor.

  Since the moment that Doc had made the two knives disappear within Paabu's left ear that unhappy individual had been the object of much suspicious observation upon the part of all the villagers. At first he had enjoyed this unusual celebrity and had strutted about with great pompousness, but when it had been whispered that Galla Galla was becoming consumed with curiosity to learn if the big medicine was indeed inside Paabu's head, the youth had filled with a great terror that kept him almost continuously in the seclusion and dirt of his father's hut; for he knew of but one way in which Galla Galla could definitely learn if the big medicine was actually within his skull, and Paabu knew Galla Galla well enough to know that, whenever the spirit chanced to move him, he would not hesitate to make a thorough investigation, no matter how painful, or how fatal to Paabu.

  One day, as the boys were lying in the shade beside their hut, Galla Galla approached them. With him was an evil-faced individual whom the boys recognized as Intamo, the witch-doctor of the Bagalla, a Mugalla of great power whose influence over Galla Galla made him in many ways virtually chief of the Bagalla. His wrinkled face was seamed and lined by age and vicious thoughts, and clouded by a perpetual scowl—a fit setting for his blood-shot eyes and his sharp, filed, cannibal teeth. As the two approached the boys, Intamo excitedly urged something upon the chief, but he ceased speaking as they came within earshot of Dick and Doc, as though fearful that they might overhear and understand.

  However, Galla Galla, stopping in front of his two young captives, let the cat out of the bag. "Intamo say your medicine no good," he announced.

  "Let him make better medicine," retorted Doc in halting and faulty Bagalla.

  "Intamo say your medicine not in Paabu's head," continued Galla Galla.

  "I say it is. Didn't you see me put it there?"

  "We find out," announced the chief. "How you find out?" demanded Dick, and then, as a sudden thought popped into his mind: "Golly! You don't mean —"

  "How you find out what's in a nut?" retorted Galla Galla. "You crack it!"

  "But you'd kill him," cried Doc, horror stricken.

  "And if we do not find the big medicine there, we kill you," said Intamo, who would have liked nothing better than to get rid of the white boy whose big medicine had had a bad effect upon Intamo's reputation as a witch-doctor, since he had been unable to duplicate Doc's exhibition of wizardry.

  "You come now," he continued. "We find out!"

  And accompanied by Galla Galla and the boys, Intamo led the way toward the center of the village where, in an open space before the chief's hut, all the ceremonies of the tribe were conducted.

  While Paabu was being searched out and dragged, resisting and screaming, to be sacrificed upon the altar of ignorance and superstition, word ran rapidly through the village that a bit of delicious entertainment was about to be staged, and there resulted a rush for grand stand seats. A ring of savage warriors kept a circular place cleared; in the center of this clearing stood Galla Galla and Intamo. To them Paabu was dragged.

  Dick and Doc stood shoulder to shoulder in the front rank of spectators, their tanned faces blanched with horror. Two warriors held the half fainting Paabu while Intamo, armed with a knobkerrie, made mystical passes in the air and mumbled a weird incantation that was supposed to weaken the strength of the white boy's big medicine, in the event that it should actually be found within the unfortunate Paabu's head.

  "Golly!" whispered Dick, "can't we do something to stop them before Intamo breaks that boy's head open with his club?"

  "Makes me feel like a murderer," groaned Doc.

  "You will be a murderer—almost—if they go through with this thing," said Dick. "But if you tell 'em the truth, they'll kill us."

  "When they don't find the knives inside his coco, they'll kill us anyway," replied Doc.

  "Then you better tell 'em," advised Dick. "There's no use lettin' 'em kill that poor kid."

  "I've got it!" cried Doc. "For the love of Mike! Quick! Slip me your knife! Don't let anyone see it. Here! That's it! Now watch my smoke?"

  Slipping Dick's knife inside his loin cloth beside his own, Doc stepped forward into the circle. "Wait!" he commanded, advancing toward Intamo, but addressing Galla Galla. "You need not kill Paabu. I can prove that the big medicine that belongs to my friend and the big medicine that belongs to me are both inside Paabu's head. I am great witch-doctor and do not have to crack Paabu's skull open to get the medicine out, the way Intamo does. See!"

  And before Intamo could prevent, Doc stepped close to the unfortunate victim of Intamo's jealousy and Galla Galla's curiosity, and with two swift movements of his right hand appeared to withdraw the knives from Paabu's ear. Turning, he exhibited them upon the palm of his open hand to Galla Galla and the assembled Bagalla.

  Perhaps Doc's Bagalla had been lame and halting, but there was no one there who did not perfectly understand the wondrous powers of his great magic, nor fail to see that his medicine was much stronger than that of Intamo, for it is very true that we are all convinced by what we think we see, quite as surely as by what we actually do see.

  Galla Galla was nonplussed. Intamo was furious. Being an unscrupulous old fakir, himself, he was convinced that Doc had done no more than play a clever trick upon them all—a trick by which he, for one, did not intend to be fooled. But now he knew that Doc had beaten him at his own game and perhaps in the bottom of his ignorant, savage brain there was enough natural superstition to half convince him that perhaps, after all, here was a real, genuine witch- doctor who commanded demons and controlled their supernatural powers. His fear and hatred of Doc were increased a hundred fold by the happenings of the past few minutes and within his evil heart there crystalized the determination to rid himself as quickly as possible of this dangerous competitor.

  Had he known what was coming, he would have used his knobkerrie to that end upon the instant, for Doc had been smitten by another of those brilliant ideas that had made him famous and feared at school as a practical joker —though it is only fair to record that his jokes had always been harmless and good-natured ones until he had met Intamo. He wheeled suddenly toward that portion of the ring where the greatest throng was gathering, and held the two knives out upon his open palm.

  "Ladies and gentlemen!" he cried. "We have here two ordinary pocket knives." The fact that he spoke English and that none of his auditors understood him, but added to the impressiveness of his words, since all the tribe was quite convinced that he was about to make big medicine.

  "Step right up and examine them! Feel them! Bite them!"

  Some of his hearers began t
o show evidences of growing nervousness.

  "You see that they are gen-u-ine. You will note that I have no accomplices. Now, ladies and gentlemen, watch me closely!"

  As upon the other occasions, he placed his left palm over the knives, clasped his hands, blew upon them, raised them above his head.

  "Abracadabra!" he screamed with such sudden shrillness that his audience fell back in terror. "Allo, presto, change cars and be gone!" He turned slowly about until he had located the exact position of Intamo and then before the unsuspecting witch-doctor could guess his purpose Doc sprang quickly to his side and placed both palms over the old villain's ear. "Now you see 'em! Now you don't!" he concluded, and turned with outspread, empty palms toward Galla Galla.

  He stood thus in impressive silence for several seconds, while the true meaning of what he had done sank into the muddy brains of his audience.

  Then he addressed Galla Galla.

  "You saw me take the big medicine from the head of Paabu and place it on the head of Intamo," he said in the language of the chief. "If you want to make sure that it is in Intamo's head, it may be that he will loan you his war club."

  CHAPTER 8

  Later that same afternoon, while Dick and Doc were chatting beside their hut with Bulala and Ukundo, they heard a great racket at the village gates. Thither from all directions were running men, women and children and presently the prisoners saw a great company of strange natives surging into the compound. They were greeted with laughter and shouting that proclaimed them to be friends of the villagers.

  "The guests are coming to the feast," said Ukundo, grimly, and thereafter the four sat in moody silence, each wrapped in his own thoughts. The actuality of their fate had never seemed more than a bad dream to the boys, but now, at last, it was borne in to them as something very real, and very terrible, and very close. They could see the hideous, painted faces of the newcomers and the grinning mouths that exposed the yellow teeth, filed to sharp points. They saw some of the villagers point them out and scores of greedy eyes directed upon them.

  "I remember," said Dick, "how I used to stand outside the confectioner's shop looking at the goodies in the window. Those bounders reminded me of it."

  "I suppose we look like the original candy kids," sighed Doc.

  Presently four or five warriors came and seized Bulala. They dragged him to a small hut near the chief's and there they bound him hand and foot and threw him inside.

  "Poor Bulala," whispered Doc.

  "He was a good friend," said Dick. "Oh, isn't there anything we can do?"

  Doc shook his head and looked inquiringly at Ukundo, but Ukundo only sat staring at the ground.

  "Ukundo!" snapped Dick. The pygmy looked up.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Can't we escape, Ukundo?"

  "He make big medicine," said Ukundo, jerking a thumb at Doc. "If he cannot escape, how can poor Ukundo, who cannot make any medicine?"

  "My medicine is white man's medicine," said Doc. "It cannot show me my way through the jungle. If I got out of the village, I should be lost and the lions would get me."

  "If you can get out of the village and take Ukundo with you, he will take you through the jungle to his own people. Ukundo knows the jungle, but he is afraid at night. At night the jungle is full of demons. If you can get out in the day-time, Ukundo will go with you and show you the way. But you can not get out while it is light, for the Bagalla will see you. At night we should be killed and eaten by the demons. It cannot be done." Thus spoke Ukundo, the pygmy, who knew the jungle better than any man.

  It was several minutes before Doc replied, for he was thinking very hard, indeed. Presently he looked quickly up at Ukundo.

  "Ukundo," he cried, "if it is only the demons you fear, there is nothing to prevent our trying to escape at night, for I can make medicine that will protect us from them."

  Ukundo shook his head. "I do not know," he said, doubtingly.

  "You have seen me make stronger medicine than Intamo can make," urged Doc. "Do you not believe me, when I say that I can make medicine that will keep every demon of the jungle from harming us?"

  "Are you sure?" demanded Ukundo.

  "Didn't we spend a night in the jungle before we reached this village?" asked Dick. "Not one single little bit of a demon bothered us. You ought to have seen 'em run, the minute they laid their eyes on Doc."

  Ukundo's eyes grew very wide as he looked with awe at Doc. "The medicine of the white boy witch-doctor must be very strong," he said.

  "It is," admitted Doc. "I'll give you my word that not a demon will hurt you while I am along; but if we stay here, Galla Galla will eat you. Will you come with us?"

  Ukundo glanced at the hut in which lay the unhappy Bulala. "Yes," he said, "Ukundo will go with you."

  "Good old Ukundo!" cried Dick, and then, in a whisper, "We'll have to go tonight because tomorrow it may be too late for poor Bulala."

  "Bulala?" questioned Ukundo. "Bulala is already as good as dead."

  "You think they will kill him tonight?" demanded Dick. Ukundo shrugged his shoulders, "Perhaps."

  "But we must save him if we can," insisted Dick.

  "We cannot," said Ukundo.

  "We can try," said Doc.

  "Yes, we can try," agreed Ukundo, without enthusiasm, for Ukundo was a fatalist, believing, as many primitive people do, that whatever is about to happen must happen and that it is useless to struggle against it. Perhaps that is why neither he nor Bulala had given any serious thought to the matter of escape, being content to assume that if Fate had ordained that they were to be eaten by the Bagalla, they would be eaten by the Bagalla, and that was all that there was to it.

  But Dick and Doc were not fatalists. They knew that their own wit and ability and courage had a great deal more to do with guiding their destinies than did any legendary lady called Fate. To them Fate was just a silly bogy, like the demons of Ukundo, and so they planned and schemed against the time when conditions might be right for them to attempt to make a break for liberty. Their difficulties were greatly increased because of Bulala, but not once did either of them think of abandoning this good friend without making an attempt to rescue him, even though failure to do so might almost certainly result in preventing their own escape.

  As night fell, the boys could see the villagers and their guests assembling for the evening meal. Pots were being brought forth and filled with water that was set to boil over numerous fires. There was a great deal of loud talk and laughter. The captives wondered if the pots of boiling water were waiting to receive Bulala and how soon it would be before their turn would come, and as they sat there, watching the fierce and terrible savages, their minds could not but be filled with gloomy thoughts and dire forebodings, try though they would to cast them out. For some time they had sat in silence, when their attention was attracted by a rustling sound as of a body crushing against the side of their grass-walled hut. They were sitting just outside the entrance; someone, or some thing, was approaching from behind the hut, keeping close to the outside wall, which was in dense shadow. Dick and Doc drew their knives and waited. Who or what could it be? Whoever, or whatever it was it was quite evident that it did not wish anyone to know that it was there; the stealthiness of its approach made that quite plain.

  Slowly Dick rose to his feet, his knife ready in his hand, and Doc placed himself at Dick's side. Ukundo, unarmed, stood at Dick's left. Thus the three waited in tense silence while the stealthy sounds approached along the side of the hut, through the inky darkness of the shadows cast by the glaring camp fires of the village.

  "Demon!" whispered Ukundo.

  "Leave him to me then," said Doc. "But if it's a lion you can have it."

  "Not a lion," said Ukundo. "Demon—or man!"

  Presently a low "S-s-t!" sounded from the shadows.

  "Who are you?" demanded Dick.

  "What do you want?" asked Doc.

  "I am Paabu," whispered a voice, very low. "I come to warn you."


  "Come closer," said Doc. "We are alone."

  A part of the shadow resolved itself into the youth, as he came nearer and crouched low against the side of the hut.

  "You saved my life today," he said, addressing Doc, "so I come to warn you. Intamo has put poison in food for you. I saw him. Paabu hates Intamo. That is all! I go!"

  "Wait!" urged Doc. "What are they going to do with Bulala?"

  Paabu grinned. "Eat him, of course," he said.

  "When?"

  "Tomorrow night. Next night they eat Ukundo. I think they are afraid of your medicine. They may not eat you, unless Intamo is able to kill you with poison."

  "They couldn't eat us then," said Dick, "because the poison would kill them."

  "No!" contradicted Paabu. "Intamo take care of that. Intamo make good poison, and as soon as you die, he cut out all your insides. There will be no poison in your flesh. If he thinks you eat the poison food, and then you do not die, he will be afraid. But he will find another way to kill you unless your medicine is very strong. That is why Paabu come to warn you—so that you may make strong medicine."

  He started away.

  "Wait!" said Dick again. "Have they killed Bulala yet?"

  "No!"

  "When will they kill him?"

  "Tomorrow."

  "Will you do something for me?" asked Doc.

  "What?" demanded Paabu.

  "Bring us some weapons—four knives, four spears, four bows and some arrows. Will you do that for me, Paabu?"

  "I am afraid. Galla Calla would kill me. Intamo would kill me, if he knew I come here and speak with you."