Текст книги "Tarzan. Complete Collection"

Автор книги: Edgar Burroughs

CHAPTER 3

A new day burst gorgeously into life. A brilliant sun shone down upon the leafy canopy of green that roofed the great forest; but far beneath all was dark and gloomy still. A sleek, black warrior moved silently along a jungle trail. On his back he carried a small, oval shield, his bow and his quiver filled with arrows. Bracelets of iron and of copper encircled his arms. Through the septum of his nose, which had been pierced to receive it, was a cylindrical piece of wood, six or eight inches in length; from the lobes of his ears depended heavy ornaments; necklaces encircled his ebon throat and there were many metal bands and anklets upon his legs; his hair was plastered thick with mud into which he had stuck several gaudy feathers. His teeth were filed to sharp points. In one hand he bore a light hunting spear. He was Zopinga, a Mugalla of the Bagalla tribe that was all-powerful in Ugalla, the dismal forest country they claimed as theirs. Thus early in the morning Zopinga was making the round of the snares he had set the previous day.

In the crotch of a mighty jungle giant, two boys, chilled, miserable, awoke from a fitful slumber. All night they had huddled close together for such warmth as they might lend each other; but they had been very cold. They had slept little. The mysterious voices of the jungle night, the consciousness of the nearby presence of creatures they could not see had driven sleep from their eyes until, finally, overcome by utter exhaustion, they had sunk into all unconsciousness that could scarcely be called sleep, and even from this, the cold and discomfort aroused them, shortly after daybreak.

"Golly," said Dick, "I sure am cold!"

"You haven't got anything on me," replied Doc.

"It must be great in the jungle at night," said Dick, with a sickly grin.

"It wasn't so bad," insisted Doc, bravely.

"So bad as what?" asked Dick.

"I'll bet you none of the other boys ever stayed out in a tree all night, with lions and panthers and tigers prowling all around in the jungle below. Just wait till we get home and tell them. Gee, I'll bet they'll be sore to think they weren't along."

"There aren't any tigers in Africa," corrected Dick, "and anyone who wants to stay out in the jungle all night can have my place. I wish I were home in my own bed—that's what I wish."

"Cry-baby!"

"I am not. I just have some sense, that's all. It's cold here and I'm hungry."

"So am I," admitted Doc. "Let's build a fire and get warm and cook breakfast."

"How you going to build a fire and what you going to cook for breakfast? You going to say 'Abracadabra, Allo, Presto, change cars!' and then pick a gas range out of my ear? And if you could, what would you cook on it? Ham and eggs and waffles? That wouldn't do, because we haven't any of the maple syrup you are always talking about and cook forgot the marmalade."

"You think you're funny!" snapped Doc. "But I'll show you—I'll build a fire all right."

"Where are your matches?"

"I don't need any matches."

"How you going to build a fire without matches?"

"That's easy. All you got to do is rub two sticks together."

Dick was interested. "That's right," he said. "Come on, let's go down and get a fire started. Golly, but wouldn't it be great to be warm again?"

"I wouldn't care if I got on fire," said Doc, "only I'm so cold I don't think I'd burn."

"We could melt—that's better than staying frozen."

"Do you suppose it's safe to go down?" inquired Doc. "Do you suppose that old lion has gone home?"

"We could stay close to a tree and one of us could watch all the time," suggested Dick.

"All right, here goes! Gee, but I'm stiff. Whew! My joints need oiling."

Once at the bottom of the tree Doc collected a little pile of twigs and taking two of the larger ones he commenced rubbing them together vigorously, while Dick watched and listened, ready to sound the alarm at the first sign of danger. Doc rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.

"What's the matter with your old fire?" demanded Dick.

"I don't know," said Doc. "All the books I've ever read about savages and desert islands and people like that, tell how they build their fires by rubbing two sticks together."

"Maybe you aren't rubbing fast enough," suggested Dick.

"I'm rubbing as fast as I can. Maybe you think this is fun. Well, it isn't. It's hard work." He kept on rubbing and rubbing for several minutes. Finally he stopped, exhausted.

"What you stopping for?" demanded Dick.

"The old sticks won't burn," replied Doc, disgustedly, "and anyway I've rubbed so fast that I've got warm."

Satisfied that there was something wrong with their fire– making, they decided to warm themselves by exercise, knowing that a good, brisk run would set the blood to tingling in their veins; but then the question arose as to the direction in which they should run, as well as a place where they might find room in which to run. The tangled undergrowth grew close around them. Nothing could run in that. They had no idea where the trail was. There was nothing left, therefore, but the trees, and so they clambered back to the lower branches and with stiff fingers and numb joints started once more in the direction they thought would lead them to the railway.

As they moved forward, they commenced to feel the reviving influence of renewed warmth and life. But as they forgot the cold, they became more conscious of their hunger and now thirst was adding to their discomfort. They heard the sounds of the smaller life of the jungle, and occasionally caught fleeting glimpses of beautifully colored birds. A small monkey came and ran along above their heads and his chattering attracted others, until soon there were many monkeys around them. They did not seem very much afraid of the boys, nor were they unfriendly. They were merely curious. And they were always eating; a fact which drove the boys nearly crazy with hunger.

They watched carefully to discover what the monkeys ate, for they knew that what the monkeys ate with safety, they might eat; but when they discovered that the bill-of-fare appeared to consist quite largely of caterpillars they changed their minds. After a while they saw one of the monkeys gather fruit from a tree and eat it with great relish and they lost no time in clambering up into the branches of that same tree and searching for more of the fruit. It did not taste very good, but it was food and stopped the gnawing pangs of hunger, and its juices helped to satisfy their thirst.

When they had eaten they continued their search for the railway and found it easier to travel through the trees though they were, as yet, far from perfect at it. The food had given them renewed hope and they were quite sure now that they would soon reach the twin bands of steel that would mean rescue, for even if their train had left, there would be other trains along, which would surely stop at sight of two white boys. They might not have felt so much confidence had they dreamed that they were traveling deeper and deeper into the forest, directly away from the railway. Dick, who was in the lead, suddenly voiced an exclamation of satisfaction and relief.

"Here's the old trail!" he cried. "Now we can make some time."

"Gee, but it's good to get your old feet on the ground again," said Doc as the two boys stood again on solid footing. "Come on! Now let's beat it."

With brisk steps they set off along the game trail that ran in the same general direction they had been traveling, positive now that they were on the right road. Doc, his spirits rising to the occasion, broke into a gay whistle.

Ahead of them Zopinga came to an abrupt halt. For an instant he stood, listening intently, then he dropped to his hands and knees and placed his ear against the ground and remained there for a moment, motionless. When he arose, he still remained in a listening attitude, straining every faculty to interpret the sounds that were approaching him along the trail. Just before the boys came into sight the savage warrior stepped into the green wall of the jungle trail. The leaves and branches dropped back, forming an impenetrable screen behind which Zopinga waited.

The boys came confidently on, while Zopinga adjusted his shield upon his left forearm and took a new grip upon his light hunting spear.

The warrior did not see the boys until they were almost opposite him but when he did, the grasp of his spear hand released and a look of relief and satisfaction overspread his black and evil countenance, for he saw that he had nothing to fear from two unarmed white boys. He waited until a turn in the trail took them from his view, then he stepped out into the trail and followed them.

Zopinga was greatly elated. What matter now that his snares had failed to entrap a single victim? Had they all been filled, the reward would not have equaled this windfall that had come to him without the slightest effort upon his part. The victims of his snares he would have had to carry home; but this new quarry walked upon their own legs and, most accommodatingly, were headed directly for the village of the Bagalla.

CHAPTER 4

"We must be pretty near the train by this time," said Dick; "unless —"

"Unless what?" demanded Doc.

"We might not be on the right trail," suggested the other. "We might be lost after all."

"Gee, don't say that, Dick. If we're lost now, we'll never find our way out. We'll have to stay in this jungle until we—"

"Until we what?"

"I don't like to say it."

"You mean until we die?"

Doc nodded his head and the boys moved on in silence, each intent upon his own gloomy thoughts. Behind them, just out of sight, came the black warrior, Zopinga. Presently Doc stopped.

"Dick!" he cried. "Do you smell something?"

Dick sniffed the air. "Smells like smoke," he said.

"It is smoke," exclaimed Doc, "and I can smell food cooking, too.

"We're saved, Dick! We're saved! It's the train! Come on!" and both boys broke into a run.

A hundred yards of brisk running brought them to a sudden stop. Before them lay a clearing in the forest at the trail's end. In the center of the clearing was a palisade of poles surrounding an enclosure. Above the top of the palisade they could see the cone– shaped roofs of grass-thatched huts and, through the open gates that faced them, they could see the huts themselves and half-naked black people moving about. Outside the palisade some women were hoeing in a little patch of cultivated ground.

Dick and Doc took one look at the scene before them before they faced one another in silent consternation. So different from what they had expected had been this outcome of their hopes that both boys were shocked into utter speechlessness for a moment. It was Doc, as usual, who first regained control of his tongue.

"We're lost, after all," he said. "What are we going to do?"

"Maybe they're friendly natives," suggested Dick.

"Maybe they're cannibals," suggested Doc.

"I don't believe there are any cannibals any more," said Dick.

"I don't intend to take any chances on that. There may be."

"Let's sneak back the way we came then," whispered Dick. "They haven't seen us yet."

Simultaneously the two boys turned to retrace their steps and there, blocking the trail they had just trod, stood a huge, black warrior scowling savagely at them. In his hand was a sharp spear.

"Golly!" exclaimed Dick.

"Gee!" ejaculated Doc. "What shall we do?"

"We ought to be nice to him," said Dick.

"Good morning!" said Doc, politely, with a smile that was nothing if not strained. "Nice morning, isn't it?"

Zopinga, who had stood silent thus far, now broke into a torrent of words, not one of which the boys understood. When he had ceased, he again stood immovable.

"Well," remarked Dick, casually, "I guess we'd better be getting along back to the train. Come on, Doc," and he started to move along the trail past Zopinga. Instantly the sharp point of the spear was at the pit of his stomach.

Dick stopped. Zopinga pointed toward the village with his left hand and prodded Dick with his spear.

"I guess he's inviting us to lunch," suggested Doc.

"Whatever he's inviting us to do, I guess we'd better do it," said Dick.

Reluctantly the two boys turned toward the village; behind them walked Zopinga, proudly herding his captives in the direction of the gates. At sight of them the women and children working in the fields clustered about, jabbering excitedly. The women were hideous creatures whose ears and lower lips were horribly disfigured, the lobes of the former having evidently been pierced during their youth to receive heavy ornaments which had stretched the flesh until the lower part of the ear touched the shoulder, while their teeth, like those of Zopinga, were filed to sharp points, though fortunately for the peace of mind of Dick and Doc, neither boy understood the significance of this.

Some of the children threw stones and sticks at the boys and each time a hit was scored, Zopinga and the women and all the children laughed uproariously. Encouraged and emboldened by this applause one of the older children, a particularly hideous boy, rushed at Doc from the rear and swung a blow at his head with a heavy stick. Dick, while attempting to ward off the missiles that were rained upon him, had fallen a few steps behind Doc, which proved a very fortunate circumstance for his cousin as the black boy would have cracked Doc's skull if the blow had landed squarely upon its target.

Even as the little fiend was in the act of swinging the cudgel Dick leaped in front of him and seizing his wrist with his left hand dealt the youth a blow in the face with his right fist that sent him sprawling upon his back.

Doc turned just in time to witness Dick's act, though he did not fully realize how close and how grave had been his peril, and the two boys instinctively drew together, back to back, for mutual protection, as each was confident that Dick's attack upon the black youth would bring down the wrath of all the others upon them.

"Good old Dick!" whispered Doc.

"I suppose we're in for it now," said Dick, gloomily; "but I had to do it! He'd have killed you."

"We couldn't be in for anything worse than we were getting before,"

Doc reminded him. "Look at 'em now! I think it did 'em good."

For an instant the blacks were so surprised that they forgot to throw anything at the boys; then they commenced to laugh and jeer at the discomfited youth sitting on the ground nursing a bloody nose and while they were occupied by this new diversion, Zopinga herded the boys into the village and hurried them into the presence of a very fat negro who sat in conversation with several other warriors beneath the shade of a large tree.

"This guy must be the chief," said Doc.

"I wish we could talk to him," said Dick. "Maybe he'd send us back to the railroad, if we could explain that that was where we want to go."

"I'll try," said Doc. "P'r'aps he may understand English. Say, Big Boy!" he cried, addressing the fat negro. "Do you savvy English?" The black looked up at Doc and addressed him in one of the innumerable Bantu dialects, but the American boy only shook his head. "Nothing doing along that line, Uncle Tom," said Doc, with a sigh, and then, brightening: "Hey, Parley voo zong glaze?"

Notwithstanding the bumps and bruises that he was nursing Dick was unable to restrain his laughter. "What's the matter?" demanded Doc. "What's so funny?"

"Your French."

Doc grinned. "I must be improving," he said. "No one ever recognized my French as French before."

"Your friend there doesn't recognize it even as speech. Why don't you try making signs?"

"I never thought of that. Good old Dick! Every once in a while he shows a gleam of intelligence. Here goes! Watch me, Rain Cloud." He waved his hand at the negro to attract attention; then he pointed off in the general direction that he thought the railroad lay, after which he said: "Choo! Choo!" several times. Then he pointed first at Dick and then at himself; walked around in a small circle looking bewilderedly from one direction to another.

Stopping in front of the black he pointed at him, then at Dick, then at himself and finally out through the forest toward an imaginary railway and again said: "Choo! Choo! Choo! Choo!"

The negro considered him a moment through red-rimmed, bleary eyes; then he turned toward his fellows, jerked a grimy thumb in the direction of Doc, tapped his forehead significantly with a forefinger and issued a few curt instructions to Zopinga, who stepped forward and pushed the boys roughly along the village street toward its far end.

"I guess he understood your sign language all right," said Dick.

"What makes you think so?" demanded Doc.

"Why, he thinks you're crazy—and he's not far off."

"Is that so?"

Zopinga halted before a grass hut shaped like a beehive, with a single opening about two and a half or three feet high, upon either side of which squatted a warrior aimed as was their captor. Zopinga motioned for the boys to enter and as they dropped upon their hands and knees to crawl into the dark interior, he accelerated their speed with the sole of a calloused foot and sent them, one by one, into darkness that was only a bit less thick than the foul stench which pervaded the noisome den.

CHAPTER 5

Crouching close together, Dick and Doc sat in silence upon the filthy floor of the hut. They could hear Zopinga talking to the guards at the entrance, and after he had gone away, they could still hear the guards conversing. It was most aggravating to be unable to understand a word of what was said; nor to gain a single clue to the nature of the people into whose power an unkind Fate had delivered them; nor any hint of the intentions of their captors toward them, for they were both now convinced that they were indeed captives. Presently Doc put his lips close to Dick's ear. "Do you hear anything?" he whispered.

Dick nodded. "It sounds like something breathing over there," he said.

"It is," Doc's voice trembled just a little. "I can see something over against that wall."

Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom of the interior and slowly things were taking form within. Dick strained his eyes in the direction of the sound. "I see it—there are two of them. Do you suppose they're men, or—"

"Or what?" asked Doc.

"Lions, or something," suggested Dick, weakly.

Doc felt in his pants' pocket and brought out a knife, but his fingers were trembling so that he had difficulty in opening the blade. "It's getting up!" he whispered.

They sat with their eyes riveted upon the dark bulk that moved against the back wall of the hut. It seemed very large and entirely ominous, though as yet it had taken on no definite form that they might recognize.

"It—it's comin' toward us," chattered Doc. "I wish it was a lion! I wouldn't be as scairt if I knew it was a lion as I am not knowing what it is."

"Gosh, it might be anything!"

"Here comes the other one," announced Dick. "Say, I believe they're men. I'm getting so I can see better in this old hole. Yes, they are men."

"Then they must be prisoners, too," said Doc.

"Just the same you better get your knife out, too," said Dick. "I've had mine out—I was just going to tell you to get yours out." They sat very still as the two forms crept toward them on all fours and presently they saw that one was a very large negro and the other either a very small one, or a child. "Tell 'em to keep away, or we'll stick 'em with our knives," said Doc. "They wouldn't understand if we did tell 'em," replied Dick, and then, in pidgin English that they could barely understand, one of the blacks announced that he spoke excellent English.

"Gee!" exclaimed Doc, with a sigh of relief, "I could almost kiss him."

The boys asked questions that the black understood only with the greatest difficulty and equally arduous were their efforts to translate his replies; but, at least, they had found a medium of communication, however weak and uncertain, and they were slowly coming to a realization of the predicament in which their foolhardy venture into the jungle had placed them.

"What they going to do with us in here?" asked Dick.

"Make us fat," explained the black.

"Make us fat? What for?" demanded Doc. "Gee, I'm too fat already."

"Make us fat to eat," explained the negro.

"Golly!" cried Dick. "They're cannibals! Is that what he means?"

"Yes. Bad men. Cannibals." The black shook his head.

The boys were silent for a long time. Their thoughts were far away– far across continents and oceans to distant homes, to mothers—to all the loving and beloved friends they were never to see again.

"And to think that no one will ever know what became of us," said Dick, solemnly. "Golly! it's awful, Doc."

"It hasn't happened yet, Dick," replied his cousin; "and it's up to us to see that it doesn't happen. There must be some way to escape. Anyway we mustn't give up—not until they begin to ask which is preferred, dark meat, or light."

Dick grinned. "You bet we won't give up, Doc, old boy. We'll learn all we can from this fellow so that when the time comes we'll have a better chance of making our getaway. The first thing to do is to try to learn the language. If we only knew what they were talking about, that might help us. And anyway, if we do escape, we'll be better off if we know how to inquire our way."

"Yes, we might meet a traffic cop."

"Don't be an idiot."

Dick turned to the black squatting beside them. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Bulala," replied the black, and then he explained that he had been a cook, or safari, for a white man who was hunting big game; but that something had gone wrong and he had run away to go back to his home, and had been captured by these people whom he described as the Bagalla tribe.

"Do you speak the same language as these Bagalla?" demanded Doc.

"We understand each other," replied Bulala.

"Will you teach us your language?"

Bulala was greatly pleased with the idea, and set out at once upon the role of tutor and never in the world had a tutor such eager pupils, and never had Dick and Doc applied themselves so diligently to the acquisition of useful knowledge.

"Say," said Doc, "this language is a cinch."

"If you learn it as well as you did French," said Dick, "you ought to be able to understand yourself in about a hundred years, even if nobody else can understand you."

"Is that so?" demanded Doc. "Well, you're not so good, yourself."

As the boys' eyes had become more and more accustomed to the dim light of the interior of the hut they had discovered the scant furnishings, the filth, and their fellow prisoners. Bulala was evidently a densely ignorant, but happy-natured, West Coast black, while the other, whom Bulala referred to as Ukundo, was a pygmy and, though a full grown man, came barely to the shoulders of the twins.

When Ukundo discovered that Bulala was attempting to teach the boys his language, he developed a great interest in the experiment and as he was much brighter than Bulala, it was more often his own dialect that the boys learned than that of the tribe to which Bulala had belonged.

As for the furnishings of the hut, they consisted of several filthy sleeping mats that must have been discarded by their original owners as absolutely impossible for human use, and when anything becomes too filthy for a native African, its condition must be beyond words.

Ukundo generously dragged two of them into place for the boys, but when they examined them, they both drew away. "If it weren't for the guards outside, I'd lead mine out and tie it to a tree," said Doc.

"Afraid it would run away?" asked Dick.

"No; I'd be afraid it would crawl back in here with us."

At dusk some food was brought them—hideously repulsive, malodorous stuff that neither of the boys could touch to their lips, half starved though they were. But Bulala and Ukundo were not so particular, and gobbled down their own portions and the boys' as well to the accompaniment of sounds that reminded Doc of feeding time at the hog house on his grandfather's farm.

With the coming of night there came also the night noises of the village and the jungle. Through the aperture in the base of the hut, that served both as door and window, the boys saw fires twinkling in the village; snatches of conversation came to them and the sound of laughter. They saw figures moving about the fires, and caught glimpses of savage dancers, and heard the sound of tom-toms; but the heat from the blazing fires did not enter the cold, damp hut, nor did the laughter warm their hearts.

They crept close together for warmth and at last, fell asleep, hungry, cold and exhausted.