IN
THE LOST EMPIRE OF MU
Far from the world of his white parents, the
sixteen-year-old youth, Jan, was raised in a cage under the watchful eye of
half-crazed Dr. Bracken. Guided by his foster mother, Chicma the Chimpanzee,
Jan was destined to execute the doctor's fanatical plot for revenge against
Jan's real mother. A monster with the mind of an ape and the body of a man,
that was his part in Bracken's twisted scheme.
But
just on the eve of the intended onslaught, Jan and Chicma escaped to the jungle
and emerged near the Lost Empire of Mu. There, Jan must do battle with the
gigantic puma, the grotesque thunder bird, and the god-monster Sebek.
With all his fighting
skill, there remained only one challenge left to Jan: trace his origins and
locate his man-parents.
OTIS
ADELBERT KLINE has
been described by the founder of the Burroughs Bibliophiles as "the only
author to be compared with Edgar Rice Burroughs, but whose work is as original as Burroughs' own." A contemporary of the author of
Tarzan, Kline wrote his own series of novels of interplanetary adventures, all
of which have become classics of science-fiction. Available from Ace Books are
the following:
THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS (D-516) THE OUTLAWS OF
MARS (D-531) PLANET OF PERIL (F-211) PRINCE OF PERIL (F-259) THE PORT OF PERIL
(F-294) MAZA OF THE MOON (F-321)
another
story of "The Planet of Peril" is included in the anthology SWORDSMEN
IN THE SKY (F-311).
JAN OF THE JUNGLE
by
OTIS
ADELBERT KLINE
ACE
BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10036
Copyright,
1931, by Mrs. Ellen S. Kline An Ace Book, by
arrangement with the author's estate. All Rights Reserved
Cover
by Stephen Holland.
Printed in U.S.A.
1
A
DIABOLICAL SCHEME
Dr. Bracken
suavely bowed his Florida
cracker patient out of his dispensary. It was in the smaller right wing of his
rambling ancestral home on a hummock in the Everglades, near the Gulf of Mexico
and five miles from Citrus Crossing.
The
doctor cursed under his breath as-a sudden uproar came from the larger right
wing of the house, directly behind him. This wing, a place double-locked and
forbidden even to his two old colored servants, had no entrance save through a
narrow passageway that connected it with his private office in the smaller
wing.
So
far as his servants, Aunt Jenny and Uncle Henry, were concerned, a lock was
superfluous. The muffled animal-like sounds that came from it were so strange
and unearthly that they regarded them with superstitious awe.
As he closed the door behind his patient it
seemed that a mask suddenly slipped from the doctor's face, so swift and
horrible was the change that came over his features. He had been smiling and
suave, but as he turned away from the door his demeanor was more like that of a
frenzied madman. His teeth, bared like those of a jungle beast at bay, gleamed
white and menacing against the iron-gray of his closely cropped Vandyke. His
small, deep-set eyes burned malevolently, madly.
Fishing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he
opened the door to the narrow passageway, pressed a switch that flooded it
with light, and entered, locking it behind him. The roars were louder now. At
the end of the passageway he used another key to open a second door, and
stepped into the room beyond, pressing a second switch as he did so. The yellow
rays of a bulb overhead revealed the stoutly barred cages that housed his
private menagerie within soundproofed walls.
In the cage at his elbow an African leopard
snarled menacingly. Its next-door neighbor, a South American jaguar, padded
silently back and forth with head hanging low and slavering jowls slightly
parted. In the adjacent cage, the bars of which had been reenforced with
powerful wire mesh-work, a huge python was coiled complacently around a
whitewashed tree trunk, its shimmering folds resting on the shortened stumps of
the limbs. Beside this was the cage of Malik, the old and nearly toothless
lion.
The
glittering eyes of the doctor swept the room, seeking the cause of the
disturbance. They paused for a moment at the cage of Tichuk, the surly old male
chimpanzee, who was squatting on his shelf, striving to look innocent. But the
Brazilian spider monkeys in the cage at Tichuk's left were leaping and skipping
about and chattering excitedly in a manner that showed all too plainly where
the trouble had centered.
In two cages which adjoined each other and
that of Tichuk were two creatures: Chicma, an old female chimpanzee, and a
naked boy sixteen years of age. He was a handsome, superbly muscled lad, with a
straight, athletic figure, broad shoulders, narrow hips, and the features of a
Greek
god, crowned by a tumbled mass of auburn curls. Several bloody scratches stood
out against the white of his face and arms, and one hand still clutched a tuft
of chimpanzee hair which he made no effort to conceal.
"Fighting
through the bars with Tichuk again," muttered the doctor. He reached for a
whip hanging on a near-by peg. Then withdrew his hand. "Won't punish him
this time," he growled to himself. "Tomorrow he must perform the act
of vengeance for which I have trained him. Then he will leave this place
forever. And I will be compensated for my years of bitterness and suffering."
Glancing
at his watch, the doctor saw that it was nearly feeding time. He went into the
cooler and emerged a moment later. Growls, snarls, chatterings, and rending
sounds marked his progress.
At last Chicma, the female chimpanzee, was
given her ration of bread and lettuce; but to the omnivorous man-child's ration
a pound of raw beef was added.
This
boy, the innocent victim of the doctor's insane hatred for a woman, had never
seen a human being other than the physician. Nor had he glimpsed any more of
the outside world than might be observed through the small, high windows of
the menagerie, or above the tall stockade just outside it, where he was
exercised.
Dr.
Bracken had loved the boy's mother, Georgia Adams, a titian-haired Southern
beauty, with a fiery passion of which few men are capable. A sudden declaration
before his departure on a trip to Africa had won what he thought was a promise
from her—a half-hearted assent she had evidently regretted the moment he had
gone; but it was the one thing on which he had counted during all his weary
months of tramping in the jungles. Her face had smiled at him in the light of
many a camp fire; her voice had soothed his troubled sleep as he lay in his
net-covered hammock while fierce beasts of prey roamed just outside the boma. For him the red-gold sunsets had reflected the glory of her titian hair.
Bits of the blue vault of heaven, visible at times through rents in the forest
canopy, had hinted of the more wondrous blue of her eyes.
But he had returned to America only to have
the cup of happiness dashed rudely from his lips—for she had married Harry
Trevor.
True,
she had told him, when they had a few moments alone, of writing a letter
breaking the engagement only a week after his departure. He had accepted the
statement politely, yet deep in his heart he doubted it. She had broken faith,
and in his estimation a woman capable of that was capable of anything. The
letter, if indeed there had been a letter,
had never reached him.
So
love had turned to hate—an abnormally intense hate that filled his waking hours
and made his nights restless and hideous—a passionate, unreasoning hate that
engendered a desire which soon became a fixed purpose and the sole end toward
which he planned and strove—revenge.
But
Dr. Bracken's warped mind had cunningly pretended friendship, so cunningly that
he served the Trevors as their family physician in Florida. And the birth of a
son and heir gave him his long-awaited opportunity for a revenge which would be
no trifling retribution from which Georgia Trevor would soon recover.
The
kidnaping of the day-old boy had been ridiculously easy. At first the doctor's
diabolical plan had been to mutilate and cripple the child, turn his face into
a hideous monstrosity, and return him, to be a living curse to his parents. But
an event had occurred in the menagerie which changed his plans and gave him the
germ of an even more diabolical scheme.
For
the male chimpanzee, Tichuk, at that time caged with his mate Chicma, had slain
their little one in a fit of fury and was attacking her, when the doctor
returned with the stolen baby. Dr. Bracken had quieted both chimpanzees with hypodermics
and removed the unconscious Tichuk to another cage. Then, a terrible smile upon
his face, he had skinned the baby chimpanzee, treated its hide with an odorless
preservative—and sewed the cotton-padded skin about the human baby. As Chicma
came out of her drugged sleep he placed the child in her arms.
The
chimpanzee, dazed and foggy of perception, had sniffed the hairy hide of her
own child. She recognized the scent and feel; yet the tensely waiting doctor,
club and whip in hand, saw her. hesitate in puzzlement, as if on the verge of
flinging away this somehow suspiciously changed child of hers. But nature and
mother-instinct conquered, and she fed the hungry infant.
Filled
with a fierce exultation, the doctor stole away, muttering:
"What
a s.chemel The body of a man and the mind of an ape. And I would have made a
physical monster of him, but with a clear mind. She would not have recognized
him— might not have acknowledged him; but now, with features unchanged, she
can't deny him—and when she has seen she will die—die by the hand of her own
son. I will teach him to slay. Only two words of the human language, other than
his name and the names of these beasts, shall he know: 'Mother,' and 'Kill!'
"
Now,
as the demented physician looked at the sixteen-year-old ape-boy, a grin of
triumph overspread his satanic features, for the awful climax of his revenge
was nearly at hand.
The
titian-haired woman who was the object of his hatred had come very near to
dying, and thus cheating him of his full measure of vengeance, shortly after
she learned that her child had been stolen. But Dr. Bracken had stood between
her and death, fending off the scythe of the Grim Reaper.
For
fourteen years Georgia Trevor had been an invalid-constantly under his care. Dr.
Bracken had never let her lose hope of the child's return. Then her husband,
who had meanwhile inherited the enormous fortune of his father, had purchased a
palatial yacht and taken her on a two-year cruise.
Only
the day before, Georgia Trevor and her husband had returned to Citrus Crossing;
and the doctor had planned a clever coup, a faked telegram to get the husband
away from the house, that he might consummate the revenge for which he had
waited so long, and for which he had trained the boy from babyhood.
Dr.
Bracken, who had a liking for things oriental, had named the boy
"Jan," after Jan ibn Jan, who, in Arabic legends, was Sultan of the
Evii Jinn. A truly demoniac name —the choice of a diabolical mind.
As the raw meat was thrown to him, Jan, who
was a perfect mimic, seized it with a snarl as he had seen the car-nivora
seize theirs. While the doctor watched, seated in his chair, with a long black
stogie going, the lad retired, growling, to a corner of his cage. First he ate
the meat; then he munched a few lettuce leaves. The rest of his rations he
passed through the bars to his foster-mother.
When
Jan had finished his meal, the doctor arose, took his whip from the peg, and
opened the doors of their cages. Then he shouted: "Jan! Chicma!" and
whistled as if he were calling a dog. The boy and chimpanzee came out.
The
doctor walked to a door which had been cut in the end of the menagerie wing a
number of years before, and opened it. While he fumbled with the latch, the
imitative lad, unobserved, opened the catch of the lion's cage, leaving the
door slightly ajar. Then he and the chimpanzee obediently followed the doctor
out of the building into a stockade with a twelve-foot board fence around it.
In this stockade were various exercizing devices—a trapeze, parallel bars, a
thick rope for climbing, and a suspended dummy dressed like a woman, with
titian hair.
For
some time the boy and ape amused themselves by swinging on the trapeze and
rope. Then they performed various antics on the parallel bars.
Presently the doctor called them down from
the bars. Walking to the dummy of the red-haired woman, he shook it savagely
and said:
"Mother! Kill!"
Instantly the boy and ape charged the dummy,
biting and tearing with mimic ferocity, the ape snarling and growling, but the
boy, between his own snarls and growls, crying: "Mother! Kill!"
Both boy.and ape always enjoyed this mimic
fight which ended their afternoon exercises, and were loath to leave off when
the doctor whistled to them.
But before he could summon them a second time
there came a terrific growl from the doorway behind them. Turning, he beheld
Malik, the old lion, just emerging from the door. With upraised whip he tried
to frighten the beast into returning to its cage, but it snarled and raised a
huge paw menacingly.
He
flicked the lion on the nose, and it backed up with a growl. Again he stung the tender nose, and the lion slunk, snarling,
back into the house. Here it was necessary once more to use the lash in order
to get the stubborn feline to enter the «age. When the beast was inside, the
doctor shut and fastened the door, and with a sigh of relief took his
handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his dripping face.
But
his look of relief was instantly supplanted by one of fierce anger as he
realized that it must have been Jan who opened the catch of that cage door.
Well, Jan must be taught a lesson. He should receive a whipping that he would
not soon forget.
Gripping
his whip more tightly and frowning thunderously, the doctor strode menacingly
through the door. But after one look around the stockade he gasped in
astonishment.
Jan and Chicma were gone!
At
the first growl of the lion from the doorway, Chicma, who had an intense
hereditary fear of the king of beasts, ran, and seizing the end of the climbing
rope, swung high in the air. At the end of her swing she was only a few feet
from the top of the fence which surrounded the stockade. Letting go of the
rope, and still carried onward by the momentum of her swing, she caught the
top of the fence with both forepaws, drew herself up, and dropped to the ground
on the other side.
Jan
was not nearly so frightened by the growl of the lion. But he was at the
imitative age, and the beast that had just gone over the fence was, so far as
his knowledge went, his parent. Fully as agile as the chimpanzee and nearly as
strong, it was easy for him to swing up onto the fence and follow.
Still thoroughly frightened, she was standing
fifty feet away from the fence in a patch of saw palmettos, bouncing up and
down and calling to him in the language of the chimpanzees—the only language
Jan fully understood:
"Come,
come! Hurry, or Malik the Terrible One will eat you!"
As soon as his feet struck the ground she
scampered off through the palmettos, swinging along on hind toes and
foreknuckles. Jan, who had never traveled for any great distance, followed,
imitating her peculiar gait for a while, but presently found that he could keep
up with her much better by traveling on only two legs, as the doctor traveled.
He
was without clothing of any kind, and the saw-e'dged leaves cruelly lacerated
his tender skin, so he was soon a mass of bloody scratches. His feet, bruised
and cut by sticks and sharp stones, left spots of red on the ground. But all of
these hurts only served to accelerate his speed. He imagined that the shrubs
were angry with him for some unknown reason, and, like Dr. Bracken with his
whip, were punishing him. He must get away from them, as Chicma was doing.
They
crossed a hummock on which a few tall, gaunt, long-needle pines stood like
silent sentinels. Beyond this the ground became marshy, so they were sometimes
wading ankle-deep in muck, sometimes sunk to the armpits in mud water, and
sub-aqueous vegetation.
This
was Jan's first sight of the outside world, and despite the hurts he was
getting, he was thrilled immeasurably. Freedom—the only condition that makes
life tolerable and desirable to men who have spirit—was his for the first time.
It went to his head like strong wine. He shouted—a wordless, triumphant roar,
voicing the exuberance of his feelings.
Everywhere
about him were new sights, smells and sounds. With the soft mud oozing up
between his toes, the warm water splashing around his legs, and the hot sun
beating mercilessly down on his tousled red head and bare body, he strode
happily onward.
Presently
they came to another hummock, on which grew several wild orange trees. Chicma
sprang into one of these and began to regale herself with the highly acid
fruit, and Jan followed her example.
The
sun was low on the western horizon when they came to a forest of cypress and
water oaks, most of which were standing in the water. They were heavily draped
with Spanish moss, and Jan, who was wont to personalize everything, compared
the bearded trees with the bearded doctor, and heartily disliked them for the
similarity.
Scarcely had they entered the shady depths
ere Jan heard, far off in the direction whence they had come, a weird sound that sent gooseflesh crawling all over his body.
Chicma
heard it, too, and although she had been traveling slowly before, redoubled
her speed, urging Jan in her queer chimpanzee gutturals to hurry after her. Jan
had heard similar sounds before, and they had always caused the gooseflesh to
come up on his skin, even though he had no idea that they were the baying of
bloodhounds trailing some luckless Negro who was attempting to escape from the
convict camp;
Chicma sensed that the creatures were on
their trail, so she sprang into a tree,
calling to Jan to follow her, just as two huge bloodhounds, their quarry in
sight, plunged forward with eager barks-to seize them.
For
a moment Jan stood, looking curiously at the advancing creatures. Then he
turned, and with a dexterous leap, caught one of the lower branches of a water
oak. Swinging his lithe body up into a tree,
he was climbing, and watching the dogs, now leaping and barking beneath him,
when he was startled by a thunderous growl just above him.
By
this time the darkness had deepened to such an extent that he could not see
clearly, but as he glanced fearfully upward, he beheld a tremendous black bulk,
from which two gleaming, phosphorescent eyes looked down at him.
Then
a huge paw tipped with sharp, sickle-like claws, swung for his upturned face.
II
IN
THE BEARDED FOREST
As soon as he discovered that Jan and Chicma were not in
the stockade, Dr. Bracken realized that they must, somehow, have got over the
fence. Although he was a wiry and powerful man, the doctor was unable
to leap high enough to grasp the top of the twelve foot barrier that confronted
him, nor did Chicma's method occur to him.
To
have Jan seen at large with one of his chimpanzees would mean the destruction
of all his plans, and perhaps of himself. Lynchings were not unknown, and the
monstrous crime he had committed would arouse these people to a killing frenzy.
He
dashed around the house to where the stockade jutted out from the menagerie.
Here his trained hunter's eye quickly found the tracks where Jan and Chicma had
alighted, and he hurried away on the trail, feeling confident of being able to
soon overtake his fleeing quarry. He smiled when he saw the spots of blood
mingled with the boy's footprints, for he believed that the lad would not long
endure the pain of attempting to escape.
He
crossed the stretch of saw palmetto and the pine-crested hummock with speed and
confidence, but when he entered the marsh on the other side he lost the trail
time and again where the tracks were concealed under water, and only found it
by repeated circling and searching. This took time, and time, to him was very
precious, for he knew that while he was floundering about, there in the muck
and water, his quarry was getting farther away.
After
about a half hour he decided that he would save time in the end by going back
and borrowing a pair of bloodhounds from the sheriff.
He made the excuse that one of his apes had
escaped; but it was with great difficulty that he dissuaded the sheriff from
accompanying him on the hunt.
The hounds made much swifter progress than
the doctor, so much so that they were soon out of sight, and he was able to
follow them only by the sound of their baying.
He
had traveled a considerable distance into the marsh when he met a Seminole
Indian named Pete Little, whom he had often seen around Citrus Crossing.
"You make big hunt?" the Indian
asked.
"Yes. One of my apes got away."
"I seen it," said Pete, and cast a
look at the doctor that was full of meaning. "Red-head boy with it, about
sixteen, seventeen vear old." "Yes?"
"Mrs. Trevor, she's red-headed. Her baby
boy was stole
sixteen
year ago." "And-"
"I poor. You rich. For
thousand dollar I forget."
"I
think that can be arranged," said the doctor, his face suddenly gone pale.
His perfectly controlled features betrayed no other sign of his emotion. He
added suddenly, with feigned terror: "Look there, behind youl A
moccasinl"
At
the sound of that dread word, the Indian turned. He saw no moccasin, but
realized too late that he had been tricked. There was a sharp report, a
stinging pain that shot through his left side like the searing of a hot
iron—and oblivion. As he pitched forward on his face in the muck, the doctor
holstered his smoking forty-five, kicked viciously at the prostrate form, and
hurried on after the baying bloodhounds, whose distant cries had suddenly
changed to fighting growls.
Ill
JAN'S
FIRST FIGHT
As the sickle-like claws of the big creature above
him swung for his face, Jan dodged and hastily scuttled out on the limb. But
the cornered black bear was not to be so easily dismissed. With a
blood-curdling roar, it plunged down after the naked youth. At this, the
blood-hounds below increased their clamor, leaping and barking with redoubled
fury.
But
the limb that Jan occupied, and onto which the beast had suddenly flung itself,
was not equal to the combined weight of boy and brute, and gave way with a
resounding crack.
Clutching wildly in mid-air, Jan grasped the
tip of a
•
branch
which projected from an adjoining tree. It sagged with his weight, but did not
break, and with his ape-like agility it was not difficult for him to quickly
scramble to a less precarious position beside the trunk.
The
bear, meanwhile, crashed to the ground, where it was instantly set upon by the
dogs. A thud, and a series of plain-, rive yelps from one of them indicated
that the creature, despite its fall, was able to give a good account of
itself. A medley of fierce barking, snarling and growling followed. But the
bear, harassed by the dogs but not particularly fearful of them, lumbered away
through the dark forest, crashing through the underbrush and splashing through
the pools. Presently the sounds of its movements died away, and there drifted
to Jan only the barking of the hounds, which were evidently still worrying
their quarry.
Then
it was that a new sound came to the alert ears of the young fugitive—the sound
of a man, crashing and splashing among the trees. Looking in the direction of
the sound, Jan saw a bright light moving through the forest.
As
he was watching the approach of the man with mingled curiosity and fear, Chicma
suddenly swung herself into the tree beside him.
"Come,"
she barked, "or Cruel One will get us I Follow me!"
Jan
understood that by "Cruel One," she meant Dr. Bracken. All the
occupants of their small menagerie world had been similarly named to him by his
foster mother. The lion was "Terrible One," the jaguar "Fierce
One," the snake "Sleepy One," and the monkeys "Chattering
Ones," words which would have been nothing more than guttural grunts and
barks to anyone else, but each of which had a distinct meaning for Jan.
Frightened at the very mention of Dr.
Bracken, Jan hurried after the chimpanzee, as she swung from tree to tree,
taking a direction opposite that of the hounds and the great beast they were
harrying.
Presently, as they moved away among the cool,
leafy branches, the sounds made by the doctor died away, and his flashlight was
no longer visible. A little later, Jan could not hear the hounds, and the only
noises that came to his ears were the natural sounds of the swamp—the hoarse
booming of frogs, the chirping of crickets, the humming of insects, and the
cries of night birds.
Tired
and hungry, Jan besought his foster mother to stop, but she would not do so
until the very edge of the forest was reached, and they could no longer proceed
without descending to the ground. She then curled up in the crotch of a tree,
and the weary youth was glad to follow her example.
Jan was awakened by a call from Chicma. Hot sunlight was streaming down on his face through a
rift in the branches. Looking down, he beheld the chimpanzee devouring some
berries she was gathering from some low bushes that grew along the bank of a tiny stream which meandered through the marsh.
He
leaned over to call to her, and as he did so, felt numerous twinges on his
back, neck and arms, which changed his cry to one of pain. His limbs and body
were bright red in color and felt extremely hot, while touching them caused a
burning sensation that was anything but pleasant. There were many small red
bumps, too, which itched intolerably, and these combined with the scratches he
had .received made the boy more uncomfortable than he had ever felt before. It
was Jan's first experience with sunburn and mosquito bites in such heroic
doses.
Hearing
his cry of pain, Chicma looked up and called softly to him. At this instant the
head of an alligator emerged from the water behind her, and the powerful jaws
seized her by the aim. She screamed wildly in anguish. As she was being dragged
into the water she gripped the thick roots of a cypress with her other arm and
hung on, while the reptile shook and tugged, in an effort to break her hold and
drag her into the stream.
Jan,
who had been about to make a gingerly descent on account of his many hurts, on
seeing this attack on his foster-parent, ignored his own soreness and dropped
swiftly from limb to limb until he stood beside her. Then, with a snarl like
that of a wild beast, he leaped astride the saurian's back, and bit, scratched
and pommeled the armored enemy with no apparent effect except the damage to his
own fists. He sought for a hold on the creature's head, to pull it away from
Chicma, and his hands came in contact with two round bumps on top of the head.
In these bumps were soft spots. Plunging the middle finger of each hand into
one of these, he pulled backward.
At
this, the alligator instantly let go its hold on its victim, and backed, wildly
threshing, into the water. For Jan had found its eyes—the two most vulnerable
points on its entire anatomy. Blinded, and with every bit of fight taken out of
it, the reptile thrashed about in the shallow water, its sole object to escape
those gouging fingers and unseat the creature on its back. As a result, Jan was
thrown into the water, whence he floundered quickly to the shore, while the
alligator, bent only on escape, glided to the center of the stream where it
sank out of sight.
When
Jan reached the bank, Chicma had climbed up into the tree and was whimpering
and licking her wounded arm. He called to her to come down—that the danger from
the monster had passed—but she was so badly frightened that she paid no heed to
him.
This
was Jan's first battle with anything other than the red-headed dummy of a woman
which Cruel One had provided. He had, of course, played at fighting with
Chicma many times, for she had, to the best of her ability, instructed him in
the arts of defense and offense, but this was his first real fight, and he had
won. He had conquered a very terrible monster of which even Chicma was afraid.
His
chest swelled with pride as he strode stiffly up and down the muddy bank,
calling the alligator all manner of disagreeable chimpanzee names, and inviting
it to come back for more punishment. He tired of this presently, when the
reptile did not reappear, and set to work to still the craving of his empty
stomach by plucking and eating the berries which grew in profusion thereabout.
He quickly ^learned to distinguish between green and ripe berries.
Jan's
victory over the alligator made him feel superior to the ape—and whereas he had
previously believed her greater than himself, both mentally and physically, he
now knew, instinctively, that this was not the case. His man mind had begun to
assert itself—to take its natural place in the scale of creation. He was
stronger and braver than Chicma, and a greater
fighter. She might betray her weakness and inferiority by whimpering, but as
for him, no matter how great the pain, he would henceforth suffer in silence.
They
traveled without food until late in the afternoon, when they came to the lonely
cabin of one of the dwellers in the swamp. After reconnoitering to make sure
that there was no one about, they raided a garden which yielded sweet potatoes,
celery, lettuce and tomatoes, with some luscious grapefruit off a nearby tree
for dessert.
When
they had eaten their fill, they resumed their journey, traveling toward the
reddening disk of the setting sun. But they had not gone far when there came to
the ears of Jan a strange and fearful sound. It seemed to him an incongruous
combination of whispering and roaring, and his active young imagination
immediately set to work to picture the monster that could make so voluminous
and terrible a sound.
He
hesitated, fearful of venturing farther in the direction of the noise, but as
Chicma advanced unperturbed, and as he now felt himself braver and greater than
she, he marched on beside her with no outward sign of the trepidation he felt.
It
was not long before they came to what was to Jan a most amazing sight. It was a broad,
curved beach of gleaming white sand with white-crested waves rolling in,
dashing a fine spray high in the air and leaving a line of silvery spume at the point where they receded.
Chicma
walked out upon the smooth white sand, and turned to the left. Jan, perturbed
but resolute, walked beside her. The sand felt soft and pleasant to his
injured feet, and it was not long before he gathered sufficient courage to walk
out into the spume. This felt exceptionally pleasant until the salt began to
smart his wounds, whereupon he imagined that the sea was becoming angry with
him, and quickly retreated to the dry sands.
The
sun was just disappearing into the evening mists with a last blaze of blood-red
glory when they arrived at the bank of a small rivulet that flowed into the
Gulf. A few coconut trees adorned its banks,
and Chicma instandy climbed one of these, throwing a half dozen large
nuts to the ground. She then descended and Jan, always quick to mimic, followed
her example as she tore the fibrous covering with her sharp teeth.
When
she had uncovered the end of the inner shell she broke this open with a stone
and eagerly drank the liquid it contained. Jan also picked up a stone and
bashed in the end of his coconut. He tasted the milk gingerly at first, then
drained it with great relish. He was discovering more good things all the time
in this strange outer world which had been withheld from him for so long.
But
there was more to come, for Chicma, removing more of the fibrous outer
wrapping, proceeded to break off pieces of the inner shell and devour the
white, tasty nut meat that adhered to it. Jan did likewise, and found another
delight.
But
Chicma did not open a second nut, for there suddenly sounded above the roar of
the surf, an ominous rumble accompanied by a white flash, far out over the Gulf.
Calling Jan to follow her, the chimpanzee hurried into the thickest part of the
underbrush in the coconut grove, and there crouched, shivering with her fear of
the lightning.
Jan
could not understand this fear. Unperturbed, he looked out over the Gulf in the
direction of the noise. The rumblings were becoming louder, and the flashes
brighter. The last red glow of sunset was being swallowed up by a tumbling
mass of blue-black clouds. But these things were, to him, rather commonplace,
for he had often seen approaching thunder clouds through the high windows of
the menagerie, and several times had viewed them from the stockade.
What
principally attracted his attention was a most puzzling thing on the surface
of the water. It appeared to have a pair of large, white wings, placed one in
front of the other, which did not flap like those of birds, but were held more
or less rigidly, straight up in the air. He was astonished to see one of the
wings swiftly disappear, followed in a moment by the disappearance of the
other. On the back of the thing were tiny moving creatures that looked, at a
distance, to be much like Cruel One.
Jan
did not know that what he had seen was not an animal, but a Venezuelan
schooner, which had scurried to anchor behind
a sheltering point of land and then lowered sail, in order to escape the fury
of the coming storm. Nor had he any means of knowing that one of the figures on
the deck had been scanning the shore with binoculars and had seen both Jan and
Chicma—a naked boy and an African ape-here on the western coast of Florida.
A
short time after Jan crouched down beside the cowering Chicma, the storm
broke.
Captain Francesco Santos, commander and owner
of the schooner Santa
Margarita, brushed
back the straggling hairs of his small, coal-black mustache, inserted a
cigarette between his coarse lips, and lit it.
Filling
his lungs with tobacco smoke, he exhaled slowly and as he did so, addressed
Jake Grubb, his powerful, blond-bearded first mate, who was peering at the
shore through a pair of binoculars.
"Por Dios, Señor Grubbl
You seem to 'ave
locate' some-theeng that ees of more interest than the coming storm. May
I 'ave the look, also?"
"I
seen it, but I don't believe it," replied Grubb, handing his binoculars to
Santos.
Santos
turned the glass in the direction indicated, and focused it to suit his vision.
"Son
of wan gun, señor!"
he exclaimed. "It ees not the bacardi,
for I see them also, and
me, I drank tequila."
"What are they a doin'
now, captain?"
"The ape ees just take what you call the duck into the bushes. The boy ees stand there and look at us. The ape ees scared, but that boy, he's not afraid of notheeng, I tal you."
A
particularly loud clap of thunder, followed by the spatter of raindrops and a
violent tilting of the schooner as the storm broke, sent both men scurrying for
cover. Once inside the cabin, Santos lit another cigarette and got out his
bottle of tequila,
while Grubb resorted to his
pipe and his rum.
"What would you think, captain, if I
told you I had an idear
for makin' some easy
money?" asked Grubb, refilling his glass and sucking at his pipe.
"I would be delight', senor, if I, Francesco Santos, could thereby make what you call the honest
penny."
"I
believe," said Grubb, "in takin' what the good Lord provides. Over
there, hidin' in the bushes, is some kind of a big African ape. It may be a
gorilla or it may be a chimpanzee, but I know from its looks that it's one or
the other. It must have got away from some circus, because apes like that don't
run wild anywheres except in Africa. People were payin' good money to see that
critter, and they'll do it again. I traveled with a street carnival for one
season, and barked on a side-show door with a circus, so I know something about
the racket. If we catch that ape, bring it aboard, and build a cage for it, we
kin turn this schooner into a showboat. Or we kin buy a tent, travel from port
to port in ease and style, and stay in each place as long as the dough rolls
in. There ain't no limit to where we kin go, what we kin do, or how much we kin
make."
"Carramba!
That sound pretty good, amigo. One hour before daylight, then, we leave for the shore weeth nets and
ropes. I dreenk to our success, amigo."
"Down
the hatch," replied Grubb, as he tossed off his drink.
IV
CAPTURED
Jan was awakened by a low cry of warning from Chicma.
Then he heard the sound of human voices. The darkness had passed, and a pink
glow heralded the coming of the sun.
The voices grew louder—closer, and there were
crashing sounds in the underbrush all around them. As these drew nearer,
Chicma, calling softly to the boy to follow, made a sudden rush to break
through the narrowing circle.
As she leaped out of the bushes, the ape
tried to dart between two men who stood about ten feet apart. One was a swarthy
fellow with a small mustache. The other was jet black, and gigantic in stature.
But as she ran forward, the two suddenly lifted a net which they had been
trailing between them, and in a moment she was struggling in its meshes which
the two men drew tighter and tighter around her.
Bewildered
by the strange sights and sounds, Jan dashed off into the undergrowth, but when
he saw that Chicma had been caught he paused, hoping to see her break away. As
it became increasingly evident to him that she would not be able to do this
unaided, he snarled like an enraged animal—then charged.
The
two men were bending over Chicma as she thrashed on the ground, attempting to
put ropes on her. Four others, three with brown skins and one with a bushy
yellow beard, were running toward them carrying nets and ropes. Paying no heed
to these reenforcements, Jan leaped on the back of the man nearest him—the
swarthy fellow with the little mustache—and growling and snarling like a jungle
beast, attacked him with teeth and nails.
But
the yellow-bearded giant ran up behind him and pulled him off.
Quick
as a flash, Jan turned on this new enemy and sank his teeth into the hairy
forearm. With an exclamation of pain and anger, the big man jabbed a huge fist
into the boy's midriff, causing him to let go his hold and gasp for breath.
The fist flashed out a second time, colliding with his jaw, and Jan's whirling
senses left him.
Jan
did not know when he was bundled aboard the ship, nor could he know that his
jailer of sixteen years, Dr. Bracken, had resumed his trailing, after daybreak,
just a bit too late. The signs of struggle and capture were plain enough, and
Bracken furiously followed the tracks down to the shore, where the marks of a
boat's prow were etched deep in the sand. Looking out across the bay he saw a
small schooner flying the flag of Venezuela. He could not make out her name.
Even as he looked, her sails were raised and her anchor hoisted. Then slowly,
gracefully, the vessel sailed around the point and southward. The half-maddened
doctor knew that for the time being, at least, his vengeful pursuit was balked.
When
Jan recovered consciousness once more, he was in a strange half-dark place of
queer sights, sounds, smells and motions. There was a thick collar around his
neck, fastened by a heavy chain to a large ring in the planking behind him. A
little way from him, and trying to reach him, but held by her chain in a
similar manner to a ring on the opposite side of the space they occupied, was
Chicma.
She
called softly to him, and when he answered, seemed satisfied by the assurance
that he was alive, and quit tugging at her chain.
Through
the cracks between the boards on which he lay, and which constantly lurched
under him with a motion that gave Jan a most unpleasant feeling, he could hear
the swishing of bilge water, which stank abominably. Some mildewed excelsior
had been scattered over the planking, and the sour odor of this only increased
the wave of nausea that swept over him.
For
hours that seemed interminable, he lay there, constantly swayed by the
lurching of the ship, and suffering in silence.
Then
a hatch was raised, there was the sound of voices and footsteps descending the
ladder, and the swarthy man with the little mustache came through the door.
Just behind him was the huge individual with the yellow beard.
Jan
instinctively hated all men with beards because Dr. Bracken was bearded. And to
top this instinctive dislike was the fact that this particular bearded man had
injured him.
The
two men were talking. But Jan, of course, was unable to understand them. The
fact that they were looking at him, however, was enough. He growled menacingly.
"I'll
be hanged if that kid ain't wilder than the chimpanzee," said Jake Grubb.
He walked closer to Jan and held out a hand placatingly. "Come here, boy.
What's yer name?"
Jan
bared his teeth with a fierce snarl, and snapped at the hand, which was hastily
withdrawn.
"Blood of the devil!" exclaimed
Santos with mock-consternation. "Look out, señor. You will be devoured."
"You know, captain, I b'lieve this
kid'll make a better drawin' card than the ape," said Grubb. "We kin
show 'em in a cage together—the African wild man and the African ape. We'll
have to make the boy some kind of a breech clout or skirt out of hide."
"So, amigo? And who weel persuade heem to wear it?"
"I'll make him wear it or break bis back,"
replied Grubb.
V
THE
ROPE'S END
For many hours, Jan lay on the floor, rising only to drink
at intervals from a pan of water which the men had gingerly slid into his
cage.
But
the sea grew calmer, the rocking of the craft became less violent, and
gradually his seasickness left him. And he grew very hungry.
Although
Chicma had been fed several times during this period, Jan's original ration
remained untouched; and he was given nothing more to eat. A huge black man—the
one who had helped to capture the chimpanzee—had come in once and refilled his
water pan for him. Jan had growled at this giant as he had at the others, but
the man had talked softly, soothingly, to him, and had been very deliberate in
his movements, so the boy had made no attempt to molest him as he poured the
water into the pan from the pitcher.
With
his appetite back and his sickness gone, Jan drank the last of the water which
the black giant had left for him. Then he ate the bananas set before him—a
fruit of which he was very fond. But the cold chili bumed him with its pepper,
and he quickly spat out the first mouthful. But the smell of the meat in it
urged him on. Scooping up another mouthful, he chewed it rapidly, and swallowed
it. This mouthful seemed to bite him a little, but not nearly so much as the
first. Quickly he finished the contents of the bowl.
His
stomach filled, Jan was stretching out in his excelsior when he heard the voices
of men descending the ladder.
Tensely alert, he sat up as two men entered
the room. The foremost was the yellow-bearded white man he had learned to
dislike so intensely. Behind him walked the giant Negro. The white man carried
a short stout rope and a roll of leather. The Negro carried a pitcher, with
which he refilled the pans of Chicma and Jan while the first mate unrolled his
leather bundle.
"Now,
Borno," said Grubb, "III show you how to dress up this kind. Might
have to dress him down before I dress him up, but that's all in a day's
work."
"Old,
msieu," acquiesced
Borno, who was a Haitian Negro, and actually though not nominally the second
mate of the Santa
Margarita. "Old, msieu , I watch."
The
leather which Grubb had unrolled was a short skirt, slightly resembling a
Highlander's kilts, and attached to a stout belt. Holding this spread out in
his two huge hands, he slowly advanced toward Jan, who backed away with a
snarl.
"Needn't
to act thataway. Ain't goin' to hurt ye none," said Grubb. But his actions
belied his words, for he made a sudden spring, clasping the belt around the
boy's waist, and lifting him from the floor.
Squirming,
kicking, clawing, Jan was soon dangling with the belt beneath his armpits,
still unbuckled. With cat-like quickness, he doubled up and bit clear through
one of Grubb's hands.
Roaring
a blood-curdling oath, the first mate dropped him and backed away, nursing his
wounded hand. Then, flinging down the leather skirt, he caught up the rope he
had brought.
Jan
did not cower as the big man advanced toward him, but strained at his chain in
his endeavor to reach his enemy. Standing just out of his reach, the mate
brought down the end of the rope with a skill that came of long practice, and a
little stream of blood trickled downward, from the welt it made in Jan's
tender, sunburned skin.
Again
and again he swung the cruel rope, blood spurting from a new welt at each
blow. But not so much as the slightest whimper escaped the lips of Jan.
Instead, he strained at his collar until it nearly choked him in his attempts
to reach his cruel foe. And in his glittering eyes was the light of a killing
frenzy.
Aroused by this mistreatment of her foster
child, and by the smell of blood, Chicma also was tugging at her chain,
endeavoring to go to the boy's rescue while voicing her anger in forceful
chimpanzee invective, and gnashing her powerful teeth until her pendulous lips
and hairy chest were flecked with saliva.
Borno watched the proceedings calmly at
first, but when the body of the boy was a mass of bloody welts and his spirit
remained unbroken, his eyes glittered with a light that echoed the look in
those of Jan, and his thick lips compressed in an expression of disapproval.
"Zis
is too much for Borno," he growled at the mate, and went up on deck.
Chicma,
who had been jumping up and down, now turned, and grasping her chain in both
front paws, braced her hind feet against the wall and pulled. Jan, who was as
quick to see the advantage of this means of leverage as he was to imitate,
followed her example. He was stronger and heavier than the ape, and the staple
which held the ring pulled out, dropping him on his bloody back on the rough
planking.
More
amused than perturbed by this incident, Grubb laughed and cut at the boy's
unprotected chest ahd abdomen with his bloody rope.
But
it was only for an instant that Jan remained on the floor. With lightning
quickness he rolled out of reach, then leaped to his feet and faced his
tormentor. Grubb instantly followed him, and had his rope upraised for another
blow when Jan seized the heavy chain which hung from his collar and, imitating
his attacker, swung it back in retaliation. It caught the first mate a terrific
blow across the face, half stunning him for an jnstant. But before Jan could
swing it a second time the man leaped for him.
Unhampered
now by the chain, it would have been easy for the youth to dodge beneath the extended
aims. But he had no thought of flight. Instead of attempting to escape, he
leaped on the back of his enemy. There flashed to him, at this instant, the
memory of the manner in which he had vanquished the alligator. And he did not
doubt that this new enemy might be overcome in the same manner. Lightning-quick
to act on any impulse, Jan found the two soft vulnerable spots and plunged in
gouging fingers.
With
a shriek of anguish, Grubb seized the boy and flung him over his head. But
swift as his action had been, it was far too slow to save his eyes from
torture.
Unhurt
by his fall, Jan sprang to his feet to face a totally changed enemy. Instead of
menacing him with the cruel rope, the mate was now holding his hands over his
face and groaning. But such conduct only added contempt to Jan's hatred. Again
he swung his heavy chain, cutting Grubb across his unprotected middle.
With
a shriek of fear, the mate groped for the door, and hastily climbed the ladder.
But Jan, his anger unsated, followed him, relentlessly swinging his heavy
chain.
When
Borno, having sickened at the sight of the cruelty practiced on Jan, reached
the deck, he found Captain Santos scanning the horizon with his binoculars.
'Ave
you dress the boy so soon?" Santos asked, as he struck a match on the side
of the cabin.
"Non, m'sieu
le capitain," replied
the Negro respectfully. "I theenk you better stop M'sieu' Grubb from use
zat rope. Zat boy he's never geeve up until he dead. Borno know."
Santos
laughed nastily. "You lak the young devil pretty well, beh? You don't lak
to see heem hurt. Well, I tal you
sometheeng. Thees Grubb knows hees beesiness. He's 'andle many men—'undreds,
thousands. He's 'andle man or boy wan time, that wan nex' time ees do what Señor
Grubb tal heem."
They both whirled at a
sudden sound.
"Nombre de
Dios!" Santos cried. "What 'as 'appen to you,
señor?"
But Grubb, who had just emerged from the
hatchway, blood streaming down his face, neither saw nor heard them. Shrieking
his fear and anguish, he ran aimlessly hither and thither across the deck. And
following him grimly, relentlessly, was Jan, bloody but unconquered, swinging
his heavy chain regularly and effectively.
At each thud of the chain Grubb tripped over
a coil of rope and shrieked and ran. Once he fell. But he was on his feet again
in an instant, running as if the very devil were after him. Santos and Borno
sprang forward to rescue the mate. But they were far too slow. Before they had
taken a dozen steps they saw him blunder against the
rail and pitch overboard.
Both
men instantly hurried to the rail, Santos hastily snatching a life preserver
while he watched the water for the mate's reappearance. His head bobbed up, and
the captain cast the circle of inflated rubber. But the mate could not see it.
Following
the ship at a pace that matched its own, several large
sail-like fins protruded from the water. The two men saw them converge toward
the struggling human figure.
"Maria
Madrel" exclaimed
Santos. "Sharks! It ees the end!"
One
fin, nearer than the others, suddenly disappeared. The bobbing head went down
with a final, despairing shriek. There was a
flashing and darting hither and thither of other fins, and the water was
churned to a pink foam.
Both
men had, for the time, forgotten the presence of the red-haired youth. They
found him lying unconscious beside the rail in a pool of his own blood, the
heavy chain still gripped in his fingers.
Borno
lifted him as tenderly as if Jan had been his own child.
"Maitresse
Ezillee," he
prayed to his Voodoo goddess, "give zis boy hees life, hees health."
Gathering
Jan to his broad black bosom, he carried him down the ladder and gently laid
him on his bed of excelsior.
VI
HURRICANE
Weakened
by the terrific loss of
blood from his many wounds, Jan did not recover consciousness for some time.
When he did, he noticed that beneath him there was something softer and more
pleasant to lie upon than he had ever felt in his life before. Borno, who
squatted near him watching anxiously, had brought one of his own blankets to
throw over the rough excelsior.
As
Jan opened his eyes, Borno talked soothingly to the youth, who lay there, too
sick to show either resentment or appreciation. Presently the Negro, who knew
from experience the thirst that comes to the severely wounded, proffered the
pan of water. Jan made a feeble effort to sit up, but his head swam and he sank
back.
His
huge hand gentle as that of a woman, Borno helped the youth to raise his head
and held the pan to his lips. Jan drank eagerly, deeply—then looked his thanks
at the big Negro and lay back once more, closing his eyes.
Borno
rose and quietly left the room. Mounting the ladder, he met Santos.
"Pardon,
m'sieu', but
I don' theenk zat boy need to be chain'," he said. "He's ver' seeck boy."
"Weeth
our own eyes we saw what he did to Señor Grubb,"
replied the captain. "Me, I would rather see el tigre loose on my ship."
As Santos's native language was Spanish and
Borno's Haitian Creole, the common ground was English, which both understood
fairly well, as did the members of the mestizo crew,
who were from Jamaica and Trinidad.
"Zat
boy ees need planty sunlight—fresh air,"
persisted Bomo, "or he's gone die."
"Maybe you like to make the cage for
heem on deck," suggested Santos. "Then we can take off the
chain."
"I make ze cage, m'sieu,"
promised Borno eagerly.
And
so it came about that in a few days, during which the Santa Margarita had sped steadily southward, Jan and Chicma
were installed in an airy, sunlit cage on the deck, where they could breathe
the fresh salt breeze, uncontami-nated by the scent of bilge water, mildewed
excelsior, and the lingering ghosts of previous smelly cargoes which haunted
the hold.
Borno insisted on not only feeding, but
personally attending to the wants of the boy and ape. And both soon became so
friendly toward him that he could enter the cage without fear of attack,
although if Santos, the steward Audrey, or any of the others approached the
bars they met with unmistakable signs of hostility.
From
the start, Borno attempted to establish communication with the boy through
speech, using broken English rather than his Haitian Creole, as it was the
language spoken on the ship. Failing in this, he resorted to simple words and
signs. It was not long before he found that Jan only knew four words: his own
name, that of Chicma, and "Mother! KillL"
The
big Negro then set out to teach him to speak, and with considerable success.
Despite his former lack of human association, Jan had a quick, bright mind, and
once he discovered the purpose of the Negro's patient drilling, was eager to
learn. Each day he added a few words to his meager vocabulary, which, when
Borno was away, he took great pleasure in repeating over and over again to
Chicma, much to her puzzlement.
From
a number of tanned jaguar skins, which had been rejected by New Orleans fur
buyers because of shot holes and other imperfections, Borno fashioned three
garments. Understanding the imitative nature of Jan and Chicma, he entered the
cage and put on one which he had made for himself. He did this several times
before Jan followed his example and donned the garment which Borno had given
him. Several days later Chicma also put on her jaguar skin. And within two
weeks all were wearing them.
Borno
tried taking his off, but this wouldn't work, for each time he did this the
youth and ape promptly removed theirs. So he was forced to go about in his
primitive attire, much to the secret amusement of the other members of the
crew—secret, because they all feared the mighty thews of the giant Negro.
The
captain said that as soon as they made port the exhibition would commence.
Borno was to represent an African savage who had assisted in the capture of
the chimpanzee and wild boy in their native haunts. Santos was composing a
colorful and highly imaginative ballyhoo to be used as soon as he could get a
tent erected in the first South American port.
But before they could make port there was an
unforeseen occurrence which the carefully laid plans of the embryo showman
had not included.
Bomo
was returning from feeding his two charges, when he encountered Santos, very
much agitated. The sails were flapping idly—barely moving the ship through the
water.
"Teste!"
he said. "I don' like!
That damn' barometer she's drop to beat hal!"
"I
sink a storm ees come, mon capitain," replied the Haitian. "Bomo smell it in ze air."
"Me,
I know it too damn' well," said Santos, savagely flinging his cigarette
butt overboard. "Another day and we would 'ave made the port, but now—I
don' know."
The
storm struck two hours later, and so terrific was its force that, despite the
fact that every bit of canvas except the jib had been tightly reefed, the
foremast cracked and went by the board with the first impact. Santos ordered a
small staysail rigged in front of the mainmast, but it was instantly torn to
shreds and a seaman was lost.
This
threw the ship completely out of control, had any slight measure of control
indeed been possible in the swirling, foaming, roaring maelstrom of wind and
water that followed.
A
helpless plaything of wind and waves, the schooner twisted, turned, rose and
plunged, cavorting obediently at the whim of its undisputed master, the storm.
The decks were constantly awash, and despite the battened hatches much water
leaked into the hold.
Penned
in their cage, which was lashed to the mainmast, Jan and Chicma were
overwhelmed by wave after wave of seething water. Jan nearly strangled on the
first one, but after that learned to do his breathing during the intervals when
his head was above water. Chicma seemed to know such things instinctively.
For
hour upon hour the storm continued without slackening its violence. Then the
forward hatch was ripped off by a huge wave, and water began pouring into the
hold.
As
suddenly as it had begun, the storm abated, but in the meantime the schooner
had shipped so much water she was likely to go down at any minute. Knowing the
hand pumps would be useless against this deluge, and feeling his ship sinking
beneath his feet, the captain ordered a lifeboat launched, cursing luridly as
he took his place in the stem.
Every
member of the crew was aboard and the boat was ready to be launched, when
Borno, who stood in the prow, still wearing his jaguar suit, suddenly leaped
back to the deck.
"Zat boy!" he
said. "I mus' rum heem loose!"
"Come
back, fooll 'Ave you gone loco?" roared
Santos. "We 'ave no time!"
"I
mus' save zat boy," replied Borno, whipping his heavy machete from his belt as he hurried toward the cage.
"Es
wan damn' fool," shouted Santos, to no one in particular. "Lower
away."
There
was a creaking of davits, a whining of rusty pulleys and the boat splashed to
the water. Heavy oars wielded by brawny arms pushed it away from the ship's
side. The lifeboat disappeared in the trough of a huge wave, rose on the crest
of another, disappeared once more, and was soon far from the ship.
But
Borno had not even looked back to note its progress, as intent on his mission
of mercy, he chanted a prayer to Ogour Badagris, the Voodoo storm god, and
started on his perilous way to the cage. Though still lashed to the mainmast,
it had broken some of the ropes and was sliding around on the slippery deck
with each lurch of the ship.
Twice
the huge Negro was knocked flat by the rushing waters, and twice he regained
his feet before he reached his objective. He did not pause to open the wet
knots which held the door in place, but slashed them with his machete. As he flung the door wide an immense wave swept
over the ship and the last lashing broke. The cage, with its two occupants
still inside and Borno clinging to one of the bars, was carried overboard.
As
the huge wave swept the cage into the seething water, Jan held his breath,
hopefully awaiting the opportunity to breathe which had always come in a
reasonable length of time before, and clinging to one of the thick bars. But
this time it seemed to him that the opportunity would never be forthcoming. His
lungs began to hurt; the pain became intense torture. Involuntarily he took a
breath, and the torture was magnified a thousandfold as several ounces of salt
water rushed into his lungs. Then, blessed relief just in time, the bar to
which he was clinging rose above the surface of the water.
Strangling
and choking, he inhaled great lungfuls of air. Clinging to a bar beside him,
Chicma seemed to be in like case. And swimming beside the floating cage,
gripping its door with one huge black hand, Jan saw Borno.
The
cage was floating bars up, its opened door swung outward over the edge and
causing one side to sag. Jan tried to climb out through the door, but before he
had half of his body out of the water the entire cage went under, ducking
Chicma. He subsided into the water once more, and the bars of the cage emerged.
Chicma chattered angrily, and Borno told him to "Keep down."
Thereafter
Jan held his head only above the surface of the water that sloshed about in the
cage. Borno continued swimming with one hand while he held to the door with the
other.
Presently
Jan heard a roaring sound that seemed familiar. Then he remembered the sound he
had heard shortly before his first sight of salt water—the roaring of breakers
on a beach. He wanted to raise himself once more to look out, but the memory of
his last experience restrained him.
The
roaring grew louder, and great foamy waves began sweeping over the cage,
rocking it violently. Suddenly the bottom struck something solid, and with its
two startled and half drowned occupants still clinging to the bars, turned over
and over. It stopped with the bars down, half full of water, waves spanking
against one side. Jan and Chicma sat there in the water, barely able to see the
interior of their prison by the dim light that filtered through the cracks
between the planks.
Above
the roaring and slapping of the waves Jan heard a thudding sound. Presently
more light came in, and the blade of Borno's machete flashed downward again and again, cutting a
great V in one of the planks. To Jan, sitting there in his soggy prison, the
time seemed interminable before the board was cut in two.
Borno sheathed his weapon and, seizing a half
of the plank, pulled it toward him, bending the spikes that held it at the
coiner. Jan and Chicma quickly squirmed through the opening, and the three,
hurled forward again and again by the breakers that raced in from behind them,
quickly reached a white, sandy beach.
Apparently
exhausted by his efforts, Borno threw himself on the sand. 'Chicma, also,
squatted on the beach to rest. She was quite old for a chimpanzee, and her
recent experience had tired her. But Jan, save for a slight soreness in his
lungs and nasal cavities from the salt water he had inhaled, was feeling not
only fit but ravenously hungry.
Just
above the matted jungle growth that fringed the beach, three coconut palms
reared their crowns, dangling their fruit invitingly. With a wordless cry of
delight, Jan plunged through the undergrowth toward them. He was about to
spring up the nearest tree, when two powerful brown hands, reaching from behind
him, suddenly gripped his throat.
Unable
to cry out because of the strangling pressure on his windpipe, Jan was dragged,
kicking and struggling, back into the dark depths of the South American jungle.
VII
BROWN
MEN'S PRIZE
Jan's
struggles presently
grew less as the pressure of the powerful fingers on his throat continued. Then
his aims were seized and tightly bound behind his back. For some time he lay on
the ground, panting for breath with rattling palate, and staring defiantly up
at the strange creature whose prisoner he had become.
The
man was short and powerful, and naked save for an abbreviated loin-cloth. His
straight black hair was cut in a soup-bowl bob, and his coppery skin glistened
with perspiration from his recent exertions, for, despite his youth Jan was
stronger than the average man and had given him a good tussle.
Jan
watched the native suspiciously as he took up a bundle of long sticks—as long
as he was tall—from the ground. One of these sticks was curved, with a string stretched across the curve from tip to tip. The others were
sharply pointed at one end. To Jan, a stick had always meant a potential beating, and a low growl rumbled from his throat as his captor
made a step toward him.
Puzzled
by this unusual sound, coming from a human being, the tall savage paused for a
moment, looking quizzically down at his prisoner. He took a second step, and a
louder growl resulted. Then he uttered a few words. The youth's only answer was
a snarl and a quick leap to his feet. Then he darted into the jungle, his hands
still bound behind him.
As
he dashed away through the forest, Jan heard a quick grunt of surprise. Then
there was a twang, and one of the long sticks whizzed past his ear, burying its
point in a tree trunk, where it quivered for a moment as if alive.
Sprinting,
leaping; stumbling, dodging first one way, then another, and constantly goaded
to his utmost speed by the unmistakable sounds of pursuit behind him, the youth
ran on and on until his breath came in great sobbing gasps and there was a
terrific pain in his side. But still the sound of those menacing footsteps
followed him relentlessly, doggedly.
Suddenly there came to his nostrils an odor
that was hatefully familiar to him. It was the smell of burning wood, and he
instantly associated it with Dr. Bracken and his years of captivity. The cook
always burned wood in her kitchen stove, and at some time during the day there
was always a puff of wind to carry it into the menagerie.
Jan halted for a moment, suspicious of the
acrid odor, but a shout from his pursuer sent him running forward again. The
shout was instantly answered by a voice directly ahead of him. Soon there were
more yells on his right and left, and more answers from the man who pursued
him. Accompanying the yells were the patter of footsteps and the rustling of
underbrush, warning him that he had been surrounded.
Looking about for a place to hide, Jan
selected a clump of huge begonias, which spread their immense leaves nearby.
Plunging into this clump, he squatted down, and peering through a space between
two gigantic leaves, watched for the approach of the numerous enemies his ears
told him were closing in on him.
As
he sat there with perspiration streaming from him, endeavoring to keep his
labored breathing as quiet as possible, two bronze-skinned savages suddenly
came into Jan's line of vision. They passed on, but were succeeded by three
more, the last of whom stopped as something caught his attention. It was one of
Jan's footprints, and it told this trained hunter as plainly as words that the
youth was hidden behind the broad leaves of the begonia. With a loud whoop of
exultation, he sprang upon the crouching Jan and dragged him forth.
In
an instant, Jan was the center of a ring of curious savages, who plucked at
his shock of red hair, pulled at his jaguar-skin garment, and poked at his
sunburned body as if he were a strange being from another planet, chattering
excitedly to each other the while with many grünts and exclamations of
amazement.
His spirit
unbroken and his anger aroused by this manhandling, Jan voiced his disapproval
in the only manner he knew—by alternately snarling and growling at his captors.
This demonstration seemed to amuse them hugely, and several of them took to
baiting him for the purpose of entertainment.
One
huge fellow took it upon himself to poke Jan's tender, sunburned nose with his
forefinger. He instantly withdrew the hand with a howl of pain, for Jan, with a
quick snap, had bitten it nearly through at the second joint. Enraged, the
wounded savage whipped out a machete and
would have cut off Jan's head, but two companions seized and dragged him away,
while the entire party laughed at his discomfiture.
Then
Jan's original captor took him by one arm and one of his fellows seized the
other, after which they hustled him along between them into a cleared space
where a fire was burning and many hammocks were swung. Here Jan's feet were
bound, and he was thrown to the ground with one man watching him. Several
others gathered around the fire, which they replenished, and over which, when
it was going well, they suspended the carcasses of six monkeys, a capybara and
two peccaries to roast.
Despite the ache of his bound hands and feet
and the stinging bites of numerous tiny black flies, Jan kept every sense
alert, listening to the strange chatter of the bronze-skinned men and watching
their every movement. All were naked except for their abbreviated loin-cloths,
and all were well armed. Some, he observed, had the bent sticks with strings
stretched across, and the bundles of sharp-pointed sticks which could fly from
them. All had either machetes
or knives, familiar to Jan
because of the assortment of cutlery which Dr. Bracken had used in cutting up
meat. Some also carried short, heavy sticks with sharp stones lashed to their
thick ends, and some had very long sticks with sharp points.
As
soon as they finished eating, the savages, one by one, wandered to their
hammocks, which were slung in the smoke of the fire to keep off insect pests,
and went to sleep.
Jan's
original captor brought him some gnawed monkey bones with a little meat left on
them, and unbound his hands so he could eat. His fingers were first numb, then
filled with a sensation that resembled the pricking of a thousand needles as
the blood began to circulate freely in them. He ate a few bites of monkey
flesh, took a long drink from a gourd which his captor proffered, and submitted
to having his hands bound once more, for he saw that resistance would be useless.
The black flies, which Jan was powerless to
brush away, disappeared at nightfall, but their place was taken by hordes of
mosquitoes. For hours Jan lay awake, squirming and tossing in fruitless
endeavor to rid himself of his tiny tormentors. But at last he slept.
Awakened
at daybreak by a stir in the camp around him, Jan was fed, given a drink of
water, and left to watch the preparations for departure. All camp equipment was
loaded into a half dozen large baskets, which were carried on men's backs,
suspended by broad straps that went around their foreheads. When all was in
readiness, Jan's feet were unbound and he was forced to march away with the
others.
For five days Jan was taken deeper and deeper
into the jungle by the band of hunters. Near the end of the fifth day they
suddenly emerged into a circular clearing, in the center of which was a large
round communal hut or malocca,
flanked by two crudely
constructed lean-tos.
A
dozen yapping mongrel dogs rushed out to greet them, instantly followed by more
than a score of pot-bellied naked children whose clamor equaled that of the
canines, and then by women wearing nothing but small square or triangular
aprons.
Jan
was dragged to a strong stump about five feet tall near the entrance to the
communal hut, and bound to it by strips of fiber passed around his body. Then
his hands and feet were unbound and he was given a drink of water. Dogs,
children, and women crowded around him, all apparently more curious than the
men had been. A dog nipped him on the shin, and Jan promptly kicked it over the
heads of the children standing in front. Then a youth of about Jan's age,
apparently its master, attempted reprisal by pulling his shock of red hair. Jan
cuffed him off his feet with one well-placed blow, much to the young native's chagrin
and the amusement of the spectators.
Then
a middle-aged matron, evidently the squaw of Jan's original captor, came to his
side, knocking children and kicking dogs right and left. After she had cleared
a space around him, she handed him a piece of something flat and hard,
evidently food. He bit into it, finding it rather tasteless and difficult to
chew, but it satisfied his hunger which had been developed by the long march.
It was a farinha
cake, made from mandioca
root.
Jan
was left on exhibition at the stump for some time, but his popularity as an
exhibit suddenly waned as another party of hunters returned with a new prisoner
whose hands were bound behind him and who was urged forward by spear thrusts
from behind. Although, like his captors, he was naked except for a loincloth
and copper-skinned, he was much taller than the men who had captured him, none
of whom were much taller than Jan, and his aspect was made ferocious by daubs
of red ocher on his face, ornamented sections of bamboo thrust through the
distended lobes of his ears, and a necklace of jaguar's teeth.
The
new prisoner was quickly hustled to the stump and bound like Jan to the
opposite side. Women and children crowded around him hurling insults, while
dogs barked and snapped at his legs. But despite the abuse heaped upon him, he
maintained a stoical silence.
As
the sun sank lower and lower toward the horizon, and the shadows of the trees
that rimmed the clearing grew longer, many children brought firewood, which
they heaped around the two who were bound to the post. Jan had no idea what it
was for; and although the silent Indian behind him knew, he gave no sign.
A
number of cooking fires were built, and much meat was consumed, as both hunting
parties had been quite successful. But this time the savages did not retire to
their hammocks immediately after their meal. Instead, they formed a large
circle around the prisoners.
As
soon as darkness fell, Jan's hands were bound like those of the other prisoner,
and the circle of spectators began a slow dance around them in time to the
throbbing cadence of a kettle-drum beaten by an old man. Many of the dancers
carried flaming faggots, snatched from their cook fires, which they thrust into
the prisoner's faces or held against their arms or bodies, inflicting painful
bums.
Jan
struggled to break his bonds, snarling and growling at his tormentors, but to
no avail. Presently, imitating his fellow prisoner, who had neither moved nor
cried out under torture, he relapsed into silence and ceased his struggles,
resolved to show these people that he could stand pain as stoically as the big
Indian.
The dance grew faster and faster, the searing
thrusts of the lighted faggots more frequent. Then suddenly, as if at a
prearranged signal, all of the dancers threw their faggots at the base of the
pyre which had been stacked around the two torture victims. Jan heard a
crackling sound that swiftly increased in volume. Then there was a sudden
upthrust of licking flames and a burst of terrific heat which brought scorching,
excruciating agony.
VIII
ORGY
Borno
and Chicma
did not rest very long on
the beach. By the time they were dry from their ocean bath, the rays of the sun
had grown intolerable.
The
ape got up first, and began sniffing the air as if some far-off scent had
attracted her attention. Then she shuffled away in the direction of the jungle.
The
big Negro, who was wise in the ways of wild things, observed her actions and
followed her. He found her in a small patch of wild pineapples, devouring one
of the fragrant fruits. Selecting a ripe one for himself, he drew his machete and hacking off the leaves and horny rind,
ate it with gusto. As he was about to prepare another he thought of Jan and
called him. There was no reply.
"Jan!"
he shouted again, with all the power of his huge lungs. But not so much as an
echo answered him. Chicma, evidently understanding what was wrong, threw back
her head and called to Jan in her barking chimpanzee language.
The
big Negro had been raised in the jungles of his native Haiti, and it did not
take him long after returning to the beach to pick up Jan's trail. Chicma was
beside him when he discovered the signs of Jan's struggle, and she bristled up
with a snarl.
They
followed the trail until nightfall, when darkness made further tracking
impossible. Then Borno crept beneath the buttressed roots of a huge ceiba
tree, and lay down to snatch such sleep as biting insects would allow. The
chimpanzee crept in and curled up near him.
In the morning Borno divided his pineapple
with Chicma, and they took the trail. Soon they came upon the deserted camp
site of the hunters. Toward noon they found a clump of wild bananas and both
ate their fill of the fruit. Then Borno shouldered half of a good-sized bunch
to take along.
Thus
they traveled day by day, Haitian man and African ape, both actuated by the
same desire—to rescue the son of a North American millionaire from the savages
of a South American jungle.
Near
the end of the fifth day, when the man and ape had eaten their evening meal of
Brazil nuts, and night had fallen, the hollow booming of a kettledrum came to
their ears across the jungle.
Chicma
paid no attention to the sound, but when Borno suddenly got up and stole away
in the direction of the noise, she followed. The big Negro pushed his way
through the jungle as rapidly as possible. Soon he could hear the whoops and
yells of the dancers, and the slapping of their bare feet on the packed ground.
Then he smelled smoke, saw the flicker of firelight, and emerged into the
circular clearing.
Just
ahead of him was the huge circle of the community hut. Beside it was the tall
stump to which the prisoners were tied, around which the dancers whirled, their
faces contorted and hideous in the firelight.
Borno
circled and entered the clearing behind the big hut, in order to creep near the
fire unobserved. Chicma followed him silently, but when he reached the rear of
the malocca she sprang up onto its thatched roof.
Paying
no attention to Chicma, as he did not count on her for much assistance, Borno
gripped his heavy cudgel tightly in both hands and dashed around the hut. He
had heard the crackle of burning wood which told him that the death pyre was
lighted.
With
a blood-curdling yell and a swift rain of bone-crushing blows, he leaped among
the dancers, felling several and scattering the others right and left. At the
same instant Chicma, who had poised herself on the thatched roof just above the
door, was dropped inside the hut by the breaking of the roof supports.
The frightened Indians fled in all
directions. A few of them started to go into the malocca for their weapons. But when
they
were met at the door by Chicma—a terrifying hairy apparition wearing a jaguar
skin, and frothing with rage— they fled weaponless, fully convinced that the
evil demons of the jungle had joined forces against them.
Bomo,
meanwhile, kicked the burning wood away from the post, and with a few deft
slashes of his machete
released both prisoners.
As
soon as he was free, the captive Indian rushed into the big hut, emerging with
a large bundle of weapons and a big basket of smoked meat. Then he threw
several flaming faggots onto the dry thatch, which immediately blazed up,
lighting the entire clearing.
"Vamos!"
he said, with a significant
gesture, and started away, the basket slung from his brawny shoulders and the
weapons carried under one arm.
Borno
understood the Spanish word for "Let's go!" and calling to Jan and
Chicma, hurried after the tall Indian.
Jan,
who had seen the wonderful efficiency of the machete paused for a moment to secure one of the
coveted weapons from the belt of a fallen savage whose skull had been crushed
by the big Negro's cudgel—then followed, with Chicma ambling behind him on hind
feet and fore-knuckles.
The
Indian, with remarkable precision, struck a narrow trail at the edge of the
clearing. This led them in a short time to a small stream, on the bank of which
a number of dugout canoes rested side by side. Into one of these he dropped his
basket of smoked meat and bundle of weapons. Then he pushed the other boats,
one by one, into the water, permitting them to drift away downstream, while
Borno assisted.
When the last empty canoe was drifting
downstream, the one which contained the food and weapons was launched, with Jan
and Chicma riding in the middle. Bomo wielded a paddle in front and the Indian
in the rear.
Propelled
by the silent strokes of the two powerful men, the canoe shot rapidly
downstream, passing, one by one, the empty craft which had already been
launched.
Huddled
against Chicma, Jan was still suffering much from the burns inflicted by his
captors, but he did not whimper nor cry out. Silent and wide-eyed, he drank in
the brilliant spectacle of the star-strewn sky reflected by the gently
rippling water, and strove to penetrate the mystery of the shadowy banks, from
which came many mysterious and terrifying sounds—the night noises of the
jungle which he had not learned to interpret.
Steered by the deft paddle of the Indian, the
canoe soon emerged into a much broader stream. Here the steersman kept the
craft in the middle as if he feared some danger from either shore.
Lulled
by the rhythmic strokes of the paddles, Jan fell into a deep slumber and did
not awaken until the hot rays of the morning sun struck him full in the face.
The canoe was still traveling in the center of the broad river, the two men
paddling with unremitting vigor.
The Indian presently steered the canoe toward
the left bank. They were almost beneath the overhanging branches and vines
before Jan saw that he was making for a narrow inlet, barely wide enough to
admit the canoe. A moment more, and they were in the deep shadows beneath the
densely matted roof of the jungle. The steersman deftly swung the prow of the
boat inshore, and Bomo, springing out, dragged it high on the muddy bank while
two frightened turtles and a small
alligator splashed into the water and disappeared.
Opening the lid of the basket, the Indian
took out several strips of smoked meat. Then he picked up his bundle of weapons
and stepped ashore. Depositing the weapons on the ground, he handed a strip of
meat, to each of his companions and to Chicma. Then he sat down to munch
slowly the strip he had kept for himself.
Jan
bit into his and found it tough and of a disagreeable flavor. It was tapir
meat, hastily cured, and not only had a smoky
taste but was rancid. Observing, however, that the Indian devoured his with
gusto and that Borno tore off huge mouthfuls with his large white teeth and
chewed them with great relish, Jan resolved to eat his whether he liked it or
not. But Chicma merely sniffed at hers, then tossed it aside and waddled off
into the jungle to look for something more to her liking.
As soon as the Indian had eaten, and drunk
from the stream, he promptly stretched out on the ground and went to sleep.
Borno followed his example. But Jan, who had slumbered all night in the boat,
was neither tired nor sleepy. He wandered along the bank of the small stream
for a little way, disturbing a number of frogs and turtles, whose splashing
leaps into the water interested him, and hacking off shrubs and water plants
with his newly acquired machete.
This was freedom! This was
life, and he gloried in it.
Presently
there came a summons from Chicma—the food call. She had found something good to
eat, and was calling her foster child to come and share it with her.
Interested, but in no great hurry to comply, Jan wandered off in the general
direction of the sound, lopping off lianas, branches and bits of bark from tree
trunks with his new weapon. It was a fascinating thing, and he wished to become
skilled in its use.
Despite
his lingering gait, Jan soon arrived within sight of Chicma, who had found a
clump of wild orange trees and was hungrily devouring the fruit. But he saw
something else which brought a low growl from his throat and caused every hair
on his body to stiffen. For, stretched out on a thick limb, his spotted sides
barely rising and falling with his suppressed breathing, and the tip of his
tail twitching nervously, was Fierce One, the jaguar, apparently about to
spring down on the unwary Chicma, who seemed to have no intimation of his
presence.
With
a snarl and a cry of warning which Chicma understood, and which sent her
instantly scuttling into a nearby tree, Jan bounded forward.
Surprised
and annoyed at this interruption of its hunting, the jaguar turned and with a
roar of rage leaped for the youth. The beast was lightning quick, but Jan, who
had been trained all his life by a jungle creature, was just a shade quicker.
With a slash of his machete
at the hurtling beast, he
flung himself to one side, just out of reach of the raking claws.
The
jaguar was swift at recovery, but no swifter than Jan, for as it whirled for a
second spring, he was on his feet, his keen machete ready for a second cut. In a fleeting instant
he saw the result of his previous haphazard slash at his enemy —a paw half
severed and dangling uselessly.
Then
what had previously been but chance and an instinctive movement of
self-protection became a fixed purpose. As the angry brute made its second
leap, Jan slashed the other front paw and nimbly eluded the snarling bundle of
feline fury. The second blow completely crippled the jaguar's other front paw.
Badly disabled and half disarmed though it
was, the fierce beast turned again and attempted a leap. But it was a clumsy
effort, and Jan found it easy to step to one side and bring his keen weapon
down on the back of the jaguar's neck, severing the vertebrae. With the
tenacity of life shown by all members of the cat family, the doomed beast
thrashed about for some time, then lay still.
Jan
stood back, watching the death struggles of his enemy with some curiosity,
alert for a trick. But when the furry form lay quiet, he cautiously advanced
and spumed it with his foot. There was no response. He seized a hind leg and
turned the great beast over. What made it so limp and helpless? This was the
first thing Jan "had ever killed, and he did not fully understand it.
Perhaps
Fierce One was sleeping, and would' presently awaken to attack him. Well, let
him come. Jan had overcome the awful alligator, the yellow-bearded man, and now
Fierce One. With his tousled red head flung proudly back, he strutted over into
the clump of orange trees in search of Chicma.
The old chimpanzee was not there, but by
calling to her Jan finally got a reply, far off in the jungle. Chicma would not
come to him, but kept calling him to come with her—that Fierce One would surely
eat him. Jan only laughed, but he complied, eventually locating the ape at the
top of a tall tree.
"Come
down, Chicma," he cried. "Fierce One will not hurt you. He is
sleeping."
"It
is a trick. He is only waiting to spring upon us," replied Chicma.
"We must go farther away from him." Then she caught hold of a huge
liana and swung out on it into another tree.
By means of the vines and
closely matted branches, she made rapid progress which only an ape can
make, traveling always in a direction away from the orange grove.
Although
he could have followed her with ease among the branches and vines, Jan
preferred to walk on the ground. He was filled with pride and the sense of
power.
After
they got away from the river bank the undergrowth became less matted, so
walking was comparatively easy. Jan wanted to show these jungle creatures that
he was afraid of none of them.
All
day they traveled through the jungle, Chicma fearfully keeping to the trees
while Jan stubbornly remained on the ground. He thoroughly enjoyed the
bright-colored butterflies that flapped through the shafts of sunlight, and
the gayly plumed, raucous-voiced parrots and macaws.
There
was a great flock of monkeys, too, who fled to the topmost branches, chattering
vociferously. Jan, who had learned to know and imitate their simian language
since infancy, chattered back at them, assuring them of his friendship. But
they did not trust him. He looked too much like a man and smelled too much like
a jaguar, for the scent of the great cat's blood was still on his machete and body. The jaguar skin, too, from which
his single garment was fashioned, was a danger signal to jungle dwellers.
Jan
regaled himself with the cloying sweetness and fragile beauty of the orchids
which grew in great profusion; and his heart missed a beat when a huge
tapir—much bigger than the jaguar he had killed—came crashing through the
jungle in front of him.
It
was not until the patches of sunlight no longer penetrated the forest roof and
it began to grow dark, that Jan thought of Borno and the Indian, sleeping on
the muddy bank of the little stream.
He
had grown fond of his big black friend, and did not want to desert him. Nor did
he want to leave Chicma, who was leading him farther and farther away from the
only human being who had unselfishly befriended him.
He
stopped and shouted to the chimpanzee to wait. But the cry had scarcely left his
lips when something flashed through the forest shadows, striking his left side,
and spinning him half around with the force of its impact.
Jan
clutched at the long shaft, wet with his own blood, and broke it off, gritting
his teeth that he might silently bear the pain. Then he reached behind him for
that part which had gone through his flesh, and jerked it out. But the pain and
loss of blood were too great. A giddiness assailed him, and he sank limply to
the ground.
With
a whoop of triumph, and machete
flashing in his hand ready
to deliver the death-blow, a savage came bounding out of the shadows.
IX
CHICMA'S ATTACK
Sitting
on a limb fully fifty feet
above Jan's head, Chicma heard his call and noticed with bewilderment his
actions when the arrow struck him. But when she heard the whoop of the savage,
and saw him rushing toward Jan with upraised knife, her mother instinct came
to the fore. With a snarl of rage, she swung down from the limb on which she
had been sitting, and timed her drop with such precision that she landed on the
Indian before he could reach his intended victim.
Knocked
off his feet by the impact of the hairy body of the ape, the Indian fell on his
face, dropping both his machete
and his longbow. For a
moment he lay there, half stunned and breathless. Then Chicma sank her huge
teeth into his neck. The pain brought him to his senses, and he groped for his
weapons. Failing to find them, he stood up and shook himself with the ape still
clinging to him like a bloodthirsty octopus.
Watching
the struggle of the two as through a dim haze, Jan made several attempts to
rise, but each time fell back because of the giddiness induced by his wound. It
was not until he saw the Indian stoop and reach for his machete that he was able to get to his feet.
His keen weapon recovered, the savage made a
slash at Chicma's head. She dodged, and he was about to swing for her again
when he saw Jan facing him, similarly armed. With lightning swiftness he struck
for the youth's neck, a blow so powerful that it would have severed his head
from his body. But Jan was faster than the savage, even though giddy. Avoiding
the deadly blow by a quick step backward, he leaped in before the red man could
recover. Jan's machete
flashed once, and the
Indian's hand, still clutching his weapon, flew into the undergrowth. Jan's
blade flashed a second time, and the savage fell to the ground with a fatal
body wound, and died almost at once.
Jan
gathered up the weapons of his fallen foe: a bow, a bundle of arrows, and a machete with belt and case. Then he and Chicma
proceeded on through the forest. His wound was very painful, but not dangerous,
as the arrow had passed only through the muscles beneath his left arm without
injuring any vital organs. When darkness came on, with the suddenness of the
tropics, they perched themselves, supper-less, in a tall tree for the night.
Rising with the sun, the youth and the ape
set out in search of breakfast and a drink of water. But
it was not until half the day had passed that they found either. Then, suddenly
emerging from the depths of the tangled jungle, they came upon both in
satisfying abundance. They found themselves on the bank of a tiny stream, the
water of which was clear and cold. Growing on both banks of this stream in profusion were oranges, pineapples and bananas.
Having
drunk their fill of the sparkling water and satisfied their appetites with the
fruit, they proceeded along the bank of the little stream. They had not gone
far before Jan heard, ahead of them, a strange noise that made him uneasy. He
looked quickly at Chicma to see if it had alarmed her, but she plodded along so
unconcernedly that he decided it could not be anything of consequence.
The
noise grew louder as they proceeded, until they came to a sheer cliff of bare
rock towering more than two thousand feet above the jungle. Emerging from a
hole in this rock, about fifty feet above the level of the stream, was a small
waterfall. Clear and limpid as crystal, it tumbled almost vertically into an
oval pool.
Jan
gasped with admiration at the beauty of this scene. He tried to explain his
feelings to Chicma, but being tired and sleepy she only grunted and climbed a
tall tree beside the pool to find a comfortable crotch for a nap. To her this
was merely a place where food and drink might be had in abundance. Until the
food gave out or the place became too dangerous, here she would remain.
While
Chicma took her nap, Jan practiced with his new weapons. While a prisoner of
the hunters, he had often seen them use the bent stick with the string
stretched across it. He found, however, that it was far from being as easy as
it looked. The bow was stiff, requiring all his strength to bend it, and the
arrows seemed to strike anywhere but the place intended.
With
the passing days, however, he mastered the weapon, though he had lost or broken
most of his arrows in the meantime.
Chicma
spent the greater part of her time dozing in the tree, only coming down for
food or water, but Jan, always searching for something new, roamed away from
the pool every day. For a long time he subsisted only on fruit, as did the ape,
but growing within him, day by day, was the desire for meat, his favorite food.
One day he brought down a curassow with one
of his arrows. Curious, he cut into it with his machete. A slab of the turkey-like breast meat came
away, and Jan, who had never tasted other than raw meat before his escape from
Dr. Bracken, sampled it. Finding it good, he cut away and ate as much as he
wanted, then took the rest back to the pool with him, hanging it in the tree to
keep. But in the morning when he awoke, ravenous after his long sleep, he found
it swarming with little white worms and giving forth an abominable stench.
Disgusted, he hurled it far out into the jungle, and set forth after new meat.
The
first animal to cross his path was an ocelot, the beautiful markings of which
gave him the impression that its flesh must be delicious. Having wounded it
with an arrow, he foolishly rushed to close quarters to finish it with his machete. But the fierce tiger cat, sorely wounded
though it was, gave him a terrific battle, from which he did not fully recover
for two weeks. And its meat, he found, was not nearly so good to eat as that of
the dingy-colored curassow.
Day
by day the youth learned the lessons that the jungle had to teach him. He
learned to hunt with the silence and cunning of the jaguar, to travel among the
branches and vines with the ease and facility of the monkeys, or to speed along
the forest floor with the swiftness of the deer and the stealth of the panther.
Man,
he found, was his natural enemy, and after several encounters in which he
barely escaped with his life, he took to stalking the savages as he would
jaguars or ocelots. Only a few escaped with their lives to tell of a red-headed
jungle demon, half man, half jaguar, that shot at them from the trees and made
off through the branches as easily as a monkey.
After
two years he had not only learned many of the hardest lessons which the jungle
has to teach, but had accumulated a small arsenal of weapons taken from the
savages he had slain. There were a score of bows, more than a hundred arrows, a
dozen long spears, five blow-guns with their deadly poison-tipped darts, and a
miscellaneous assortment of steel and stone axes, machetes, knives, ornaments and trappings.
He had watched the birds building their nests
and the natives their huts, and the idea had come to him to combine the two in
the big tree in which he and Chicma slept. It proved a hard task indeed for his
untutored hands, but after nearly a month of trials and tearings down, he completed
a round, compact, rainproof tree-hut about fifty feet above the ground, divided
into two parts by a rude partition. On the floor of each "room" he
made a nest of soft grass. The hut proved snug and dry, even during the
heaviest of the tropical rains.
In this hut he kept his weapons, ornaments
and other treasures—bits of bright stone that he had picked up, teeth, claws,
and sometimes bones of animals he had slain, bright feathers and plumes from the
birds he had brought down, and a few odorous, badly cured hides.
Very
often he bored Chicma by repeating the human words which Bomo had taught him.
All
this time he felt stirrings and yearnings for which he could not account. He
was not content to make short journeys from the hut, returning at nightfall;
but took to wandering farther and farther away, sleeping in the trees at
night. He was always discontented—searching for something, he knew not what,
but always searching, always going farther and remaining away longer.
One
morning when he was four days' journey from the hut, he suddenly emerged from
the jungle into a grove of trees that appeared most strange and unnatural to
him. They grew in straight rows, evenly spaced, almost to the very edge of a broad
river. There was little undergrowth beneath them, and no rope-like lianas were
draped among their branches.
Jan
was puzzled. Stealthily he moved forward among the slender, straight trunks to
investigate this unusual place. But he had not gone more than a few steps
before he saw something that caused him to stop and hastily dodge behind one
of the tree trunks. To Jan, all strange humans were enemies, and he
instinctively fitted a long arrow to his bowstring. But as he gazed at the
creature coming toward him, something held his hand. This being was unlike any
he had ever seen before and more lovely than the fairest jungle flower that had
ever charmed his innate sense of beauty.
He
gazed, spellbound, while the wonderous creature sat down on the moss beneath
one of the trees, and leaning against it, opened what he thought was a basket
of white leaves on which there were many strange little black tracks. Curious
as he was about the basket with white leaves, he could not keep his eyes off
the face above it. The being had dark-brown hair, as curly as Jan's own,
tumbling just below the nape of a snow-white neck. The big brown eyes were
half-veiled by the long, curling lashes, pink cheeks, and a tiny red mouth.
This
creature, Jan thought, looked altogether too fragile to be dangerous, and was,
moreover, too beautiful to be destroyed. He relaxed his bowstring and was about
to lower his arrow, when he suddenly caught sight of something which caused lym
to bring the arrow quickly back to the firing position. It was the flash,
through a brilliant patch of sunlight, of a tawny, stealthily moving creature,
larger than a jaguar and more formidable. The only beast in
the menagerie which had resembled it was Terrible One, the lion, so Jan
instinctively thought of it in those terms.
As
the puma, a giant of his species, crept closer and closer, Jan, who had watched
the hunting of these great cats many times in the jungle, became aware that it
was stalking the lovely human he had been admiring. He could see the tip of the
long, yellow tail twitching, the mighty muscles preparing for the swift charge
which even the fastest of the jungle creatures seldom escapes. Jan foresaw the
outcome— a lightning leap, a rending, bone-crushing blow from the huge paw, a
crunch of the mighty jaws, and a limp and bloody victim being dragged away to
some jungle lair to be devoured.
Many
times Jan had seen these great cats bring down their prey, and never had he
intervened to save the victim. But this victim was different. He could not bear
to see that beauty marred—that frail body mangled and bleeding. Drawing the
arrow back with all his strength, he took careful aim at the tawny shoulder,
and let fly.
The
arrow flew true to the mark, and the great carnivore, with a terrific roar of
rage and pain, sprang out of its hiding place, straight for the girl it had
marked for its prey.
But
quick as was the puma, Jan was there before it, barring the way. His bow and
arrows he had tossed aside, and his keen machete gleamed
in his hand. Snarling furiously, the immense beast reared up on its hind
legs—taller by a head than Jan—and slapped at him with a
mighty paw. Jan dodged to one side, nearly severing the paw with his machete as he did so; and he would have been
temporarily out of danger in another instant, had not his toe caught on a root, sending him sprawling.
Before
he could make another move the puma pounced upon him, sinking its great teeth
into his left shoulder, shaking him as a cat shakes a mouse, and raking and
gouging him with its terrible, sickle-like claws.
The youth felt his strength waning fast. He
tried to use his machete,
but his efforts seemed
feeble, futile. He hacked at the side of the monster's head again and again,
cutting off an ear, blinding an eye, leaving nothing on one side but a bloody
mass of mangled flesh and bone. But the powerful jaws would not relax their
hold. The bulging, muscular neck continued to pivot that gory head as it
swiftly shook Jan's limp body.
Jan had reached the limit of human endurance.
It seemed to him that a great weight was crushing him, forcing the breath from
his body. His machete
dropped from his nerveless
fingers, and merciful unconsciousness crept over him.
X
OUTSIDE
THE WALLS
At
sixteen Ramona
Suarez was still something
of a tomboy. She loved to mingle with the dark-skinned children and mongrel
dogs of the laborers on her father's great rubber plantation. She took great
delight in climbing trees, scaling walls, and exploring thickets, to the
despair of her doting old duenna, Señora Soledade.
Her duenna scolded her, her mother, Doña Isabella, tried to reason with her,
and her father, Don Fernando, who secretly chuckled over her escapades, tried
to look stern when required to lecture her.
But
they might as profitably have scolded the wind, reasoned with the rain cloud,
or lectured the lightning. Ramona would
listen dutifully, then, with a flash of white teeth and a shake of her dark
brown ringlets, would romp away to hatch up some new deviltry.
Señora Soledade,
corpulent and dignified, was of the opinion that the big patio, with its
flowers, shrubs and trees, winding walks, vine-clad arbors and bubbling fountains,
was a large enough world for any girl. Charged with the duty of keeping Ramona always in sight, and taking the task in all seriousness, she was really able to do so only about half the time.
One day the old duenna was seated in the
shade of an arbor in the patio, working on a bit of lace, and Ramona was busily engaged beneath a nearby orange
tree with her English tutor, Arthur Morrison. Quite positive that her charge
would not get away so long as the tutor was about, and drowsy from the mounting
heat, the señora
settled back comfortably in
her chair, and with her hands folded over her ample equator, dozed.
But
scarcely had she fallen asleep when the tutor, with a final charge to his pupil to study diligently, strolled away.
Ramona waited
slyly until the tutor had entered the house. Then she peeked at the old lady,
and saw that the coast was clear. Leaving her text-books, pencils and rulers
beneath the orange tree, she picked up one of her favorite story books and
climbed the tree.
At
first it had been Ramona's intention to read the book in the tree, thus
dumfounding the duenna when she should awaken; yet one side of the tree
overhung the patio wall, giving her a new idea. Softly she let herself down
from a branch to the top of the wall, then, with the
book gripped between her teeth, suspended herself by her hands on the other
side, and dropped. She had attained the freedom she craved, and she meant to
make the most of it.
Tucking
the book under her arm, she wandered off between the tall straight trunks of
one of her father's young rubber groves until she came to the river bank. Then
she sat down, leaned against a tree, and immersed herself in her book.
Ramona was
an avid reader, and soon forgot her surroundings. But she was brought sharply
back to reality by two sounds, one following the other in rapid succession: the
twang of a bow-string and the roar of a mountain lion. For a moment she was
paralyzed with fear and in that moment the great beast charged:
But
quick as the puma had been, there was one who was quicker. Ramona was conscious for an instant of the lithe,
auburn-haired youth who put himself between her and the charging death. Then
for a moment things happened so swiftly that she could scarcely follow them—the roaring beast, the
youth's swift and skillful slash that crippled one of the great paws, and his
leap for safety, blocked by the projecting root.
The girl uttered a single, piercing scream as
she saw her champion go down. Then she leaped to her feet, undecided for a
moment whether to run for help or go to the assistance of her champion. She
decided on the latter course, and looked around for a weapon.
Jan's
bow and arrows lay where he had thrown them, and she caught them up. Fitting an
arrow to the string, she aimed it at the heaving flank of the puma, and pulled.
But the hardwood bow was very stiff, and even though Ramona exerted her utmost
strength she could only draw the arrow back a few inches. As a result, it
barely penetrated the tough skin, with little more effect than the bite of a
fly.
Seeing
the futility of that, Ramona struck at the puma with the heavy bow. But here,
again, her strength was not great enough to distract the attention of the huge
feline. What could she do to save this handsome knight of the jungle who had
come so gallantly to her rescue?
She
knew that house cats become greatly annoyed when their tails are pulled.
Perhaps this also applied to the big cats of the jungle. She could only try.
Springing
around to the rear, she seized the long tail with both hands, braced her feet,
and pulled. At this instant, the snarling of the beast was stilled. She saw the
machete fall from Jan's fingers—saw him go limp at
the same moment that the puma, a final shiver running through its frame, sank
heavily down on his senseless body.
Ramona
leaped to one side and pulled. Gradually she was able to drag the great beast
off the prostrate form of her champion. But the sharp teeth were still clamped
into the bloody and lacerated shoulder. Picking up the machete, she pried the jaws apart.
Tenderly
she raised the youth's head, placed it in her lap, and with her tiny
handkerchief attempted to wipe away the blood. But the little square of lace
proved quite inadequate, and she threw it away, soaked with blood, before more
than a small part of one cheek had been cleansed.
The river was only about twenty feet away.
Gently lowering his head from her lap, she dragged him to the water's edge.
She ripped a panel of cloth from her white frock, and dipping it in the water,
proceeded to bathe his face and wounded shoulder.
The cold water and the pressure of the cloth
on Jan's wounds brought him to his senses. The blinding pain made him think for
a moment that he was still in the grip of the puma. He tried to escape.
Springing erect he knocked his little nurse flat in the mud.
For
a moment he stood there, staring wildly down at her, while she gazed back in
wide-eyed wonder and alarm. Then she smiled, a wistful little smile, and Jan,
who in all the jungle had found no friends save Chicma and Borno, knew that he
had found another.
He
wanted to say something to her. But what? And how? It would be useless to bark
at her in the chimpanzee language. He had tried that unsuccessfully on Borno
and other humans. And the few words which Borno had taught him had quite vague
meanings for him. However, they were human words, and this creature was
undoubtedly human.
"I
spik ze Engleesh," he announced, with Borno's accent, intently watching to
see what effect his words would have.
She smiled again, and
sprang lightly to her feet.
"I speak it,
too," she said. "My name is Ramona."
"My
name Jan," he replied, and added naively, "Jan like you."
Before the girl could reply the shrill voice
of Señora Soledade called: "Ramona!"
"Si, señora," she replied.
"Come
here this instant!" was the command in Spanish, which of course Jan did
not understand.
"I
must go now, Jan. Goodby," said Ramona, and
ran through the grove in the direction from which the voice had come.
Jan watched her until she disappeared from
view. Then, with strange reluctance, he picked up his machete and his bow and arrows, and plunged off into
the jungle. His wounds were very painful, especially his mangled shoulder. He
must get to Chicma as soon as possible. She would lick them and make them well,
after the manner of ape mothers, as she had often licked the bloody welts
inflicted by Cruel One, the doctor. But he was not thinking of his wounds.
It
had taken him only four days to reach the rubber plantation from their
tree-hut, but that was when he was well and strong. Wounded and weakened by
loss of blood, he was six days in making the return journey. By this time his
wounds had closed, and although they were still quite painful, Chicma showed no
interest in them.
Recalling
the soothing effect of the water with which Ramona had bathed his hurts, he
left the chimpanzee dozing in the tree-hut, and descending, waded into the pool
beneath the waterfall. The cold water allayed the fever, and he paddled about
for some time in the manner of a young puppy.
For
two more weeks he divided his time between the tree-hut and the pool, doing no
hunting, and living on the fruits that abounded in this earthly paradise. One
day, as he was paddling and splashing in the water, he discovered that by
moving his hands and feet in a certain way he could keep afloat. Thrilled by
this discovery, he tried again and again, until he was able to swim about the
pool at will.
Interested
in this new sport, he began to watch the manner in which other creatures of
the jungle swam, and to imitate them. The four-legged animals, he noticed, swam
as he did, but the frogs did it in quite a different fashion. It was some time
before he was able to duplicate their kicking stroke, but he mastered it
eventually.
The
frogs, he decided, were the really expert water creatures, and he attempted to
imitate them further by entering the water as they did. His first dive was not
a pronounced success, as, forgetting his lesson on the ocean, he made the
mistake of trying to breathe beneath the surface. Half-strangled, he quickly
paddled to shore, and having coughed up most of the water, decided to try
again.
It
was not long before he learned to hold his breath and dive with the swift skill
of the amphibians.
At
first he only dived off the bank of the pool, but later he began practicing
dives from higher points—a projecting ledge of rock, an overhanging limb. Once
his foot slipped and he fell from a considerable height, alighting flat with a
loud smack that all but knocked the wind from him. This taught him that the
water could be very soft or very hard, according to the way one fell. After
that, he took care to cleave it cleanly and gracefully.
One
day, when his wounds were healed and he was beginning to feel the urge of the
jungle trails, he dived from one of the lower boughs of the tree in which his hut was situated. The force of the dive carried
him clear up behind the curtain of tumbling waters—a place he had not previously
explored. He drew himself up onto a jagged, rocky ledge and sat there for some
time, listening to the roar of the falls and admiring the thin sheet of water
with the faint light filtering through it.
Presently,
as his eyes became accustomed to the dim light of the place, he made out, high above him, two figures so strikingly
manlike in form that he started and involuntarily clutched the hilt of his
sheathed machete—without which he seldom ventured anywhere. In
a moment he saw that they were not men, but harmless images of stone with manlike
bodies and grotesque faces, one of which resembled that of a hawk, and the other that of a dog. He also noticed that leading up the
face of the cliff to the ledge on which they stood, were a number of notches
cut deeply into the stone.
Springing
to his feet, he climbed rapidly upward by means of the notches, and drew himself up on the ledge. Here a new surprise
awaited him, for he saw that the two grotesque statues guarded the mouth of a
dark passageway which extended into the solid rock beneath the waterfall.
His
curiosity aroused, Jan cautiously entered the passageway. It led straight into
the cliff for about fifteen feet, then veered to the right and upward. As soon
as he made the turn, he was in total darkness and was compelled to grope his
way forward.
The
passageway leveled out, presently, and turned sharply to the left.
Still
groping in inky blackness, Jan discovered, by the murmur of water beside the
pathway, that he was walking on the bank of an underground stream. A walk of
about ten minutes brought him to a point where dim light filtered into the
cavern. It came from just above the surface of the water, where the cavern roof
dipped, arching over it at a height of only a few inches. Here the path he had
been following led straight into the water.
Jan
paused here for a moment, undecided whether to go on or to retrace his steps.
But his insatiable curiosity won out, and he waded into the water. The bank
sloped steeply, and he was soon swimming against the swift current.
When
he reached the point from which the light emanated he was forced to turn on
his back in order to keep his nose above water, because of the narrow space
between the cavern roof and the surface of the stream.
Suddenly
he shot out into the bright sunlight. Turning over, he looked about him and saw
that he was in the middle of a narrow river, which apparently flowed straight
into the solid rock. A few swift strokes took him to shore. He climbed the high
bank, and when he reached the top, stopped in sudden amazement at what he saw.
For he stood before the ruins of an immense building, the remaining walls of
which were covered with gigantic bas-reliefs depicting strange, angular-looking
human beings, some with heads like birds or animals, some with beards that
reminded him of the detested Dr. Bracken, and some with not unhandsome human
features. They seemed to be engaged in fighting each other, or in hunting
strange beasts or birds.
Some
of the tall columns of the facade were still standing, supporting fragments of
ornamental cornices. Others had fallen and broken into cylindrical sections.
Guarding
the portal of this strange edifice, on either side, were two colossal statues
with bodies that were human in form, but one had a face like a hawk's and the
other like that of a dog. They resembled the two statues he had seen beneath
the waterfall, but were much larger.
Leading
to this portal were the remains of a paved avenue, now broken and weed-grown.
Along each side of this highway was a row of pedestals, on some of which stood
statues of grotesque monster, half beast, half human. Others had fallen or been
overturned, and their cracked and shattered fragments were strewn about among
the weeds and broken fragments of paving slabs.
Thrilled
with awe and wonder at these strange sights, Jan was slowly advancing toward
the portal when he caught the guarded movement of something creeping toward him
in the undergrowth at his right. He whipped out his machete and paused, watching breathlessly. Then he
saw another movement as something passed through the undergrowth on his left.
Suddenly
two great shaggy creatures bounded out onto the sparsely grown avenue and
closed in on him. They were manlike and yet apelike in form, with long bushy
beards and hairy bodies. One brandished a huge club menacingly, while the other
hurled a large rock fragment straight at the boy's head.
Jan
managed to dodge the missile, and turned to flee. But he had not taken more
than a dozen leaps when a third hairy monster sprang in front of him,
barring his progress, and swung for his head with a heavy cudgel.
XI
THE
JUNGLE DEMON
When
she saw the
bedraggled and blood-soaked condition of her charge, Ramona's old duenna threw
up her hands and shrieked in holy terror. Ramona's dress was smeared with mud
in the back and with blood in front. The cloth which she had ripped away to use
for binding Jan's wounds left a rent that exposed the peach-tinted silk
clinging to her trim little figure, which was also considerably spotted with
gore.
Don
Fernando, who had been walking in the patio nearby, smoking one of his long,
slim cigars, came dashing up just as Señora Soledade
swooned away.
"Carramba!"
he exclaimed, dropping his cigar and catching Ramona in his arms, to the detriment of his
immaculate white suit. "Tell me what has happened, my little one! Where
are you hurt?"
"I'm not hurt, daddy," replied Ramona, "but Señora Sole-dade has fainted."
"Not hurt! But this blood! These soiled,
torn clothes! I don't understand!"
"It is not my blood, daddy. It's Jan's.
He saved me from the puma."
"Madre de Dios! Jan? The puma? What is all this? Tell me, quickly, or I,
too, shall collapse!" "But first let us attend the señora."
At
this moment, Señora
Soledade sat up and gazed
wildly about her.
Don Fernando stood his daughter on her feet,
and gallantly hurried forward to help the old lady. But when she saw the blood
on his white suit she shrieked, and seemed about to swoon again.
"Come,
come," he said. "Be brave. Ramona is
all right and so am I."
"But the blood!
The-"
"There, there!"
He
piloted her gently through the patio gate, seated her on a bench, and returned.
"Now
child," he said. "This puma. This Jan. Tell me about them."
"Come
with me and I'll show you the puma," she answered. "It's dead."
She
related the story of her adventure to her father, as she led him to where the
dead carnivore lay. Don Fernando listened gravely to her story, and examined
the fallen feline with interest.
"A
giant of its kind, that beast," he said. "A terrible foe. And you say
it was slain by a mere boy?"
"I
didn't say a mere
boy," replied Ramona reprovingly. "He was magnificent."
"Yes,
of course, my little one. A gallant knight who came to your rescue. But for him
I would have lost you." He threw his arm around her and drew her close.
"I wish I could reward him."
"And why can't
you?"
"Your
description of him . . . Do you know who he is?" "To be sure. He is
Jan. He told me so."
"Yes, but your description of him: red
hair, a garment of jaguar skin. He is the wild boy who has slain so many
natives during the past two years. Many strange tales have been told about him.
When first seen he had two companions —a giant black man and a great, hairy
ape. Both of these wore jaguar-skin garments, also. They terrorized a small Indian
community, killing several. Since then the boy has been seen once or twice with
the great ape, but mostly he travels alone. No one knows what has become of the
black giant. Do you know what they call this boy?"
INo-"
"They
call him the Jungle Demon. Some say he is half man, half jaguar. He travels
with equal facility on the ground or through the tree tops. When an Indian is
found dead, stripped of his weapons and ornaments, they say: 'It is the Jungle
Demon again.' He is more fierce, more terrible and more dangerous than the puma
he has slain. All men are his enemies."
"But he said he liked me."
"Carramba!
Did he? Then promise me this: that you will never leave the house or patio
again unless I or one of the men go with you, armed. Some day he will come to
steal you—to carry you off to his jungle lair to a horrible fate. It would be a
terrible blow to your mother and me, and to poor old Señora Soledade. Won't you do this much for us?
Won't you promise?"
Don Fernando had long since learned that
threats or commands meant nothing to Ramona, but
that she could be appealed to in a reasonable manner, and that if she made a
promise, that promise would be carried out.
"I don't know, daddy," she
answered. "I so love to get away by myself once in a while."
"Yes,
I know. But think of the danger. And think of your mother and father, and of
your old duenna, who loves you."
"All right, daddy,
I'll promise."
And so they went into the
patio, arm in arm.
As the first man-monster of the ruined temple
struck at him with his cudgel, Jan, who had often dodged the swift blow of a
jaguar's paw, easily eluded his clumsy swing. The force of the blow turned the
hairy one part way around. Jan leaped in and dealt him a blow on the back of
his neck with the keen machete. The monster fell on his face without a
sound, bis spinal column severed by the sharp blade.
With
savage yells the other two closed in to avenge their fallen comrade, but Jan
was already running swiftly toward the river.
Sheathing
his weapon, he sprang from the top of the bank, in a long, graceful dive. He
swam frog-like beneath the surface until a shadow above him told him that he
had entered the underground channel. Then he arose and, turning on his back,
inhaled the welcome air.
As
he drew himself up on the bank in the semidarkness, he hesitated for a moment.
These men were deadly enemies. Being bearded like Dr. Bracken and the brutal
Jake Grubb on the ship, they were doubly hateful. He wanted to go back—to stalk
and slay them.
But
the jungle, his jungle, was calling. Already he was longing to swing through
its sun-dappled branches and lianas again, and tread the soft leaf mold in its
deeper shadows. And beyond the jungle was a beautiful being—Ramona.
Jan
groped bis way back to the falls. Then he descended the notched cut in the
cliff, dived through the. curtain of water into the pool, and came up beneath
his tree-hut. Shaking the water from his glistening body, he climbed up and
found Chicma dozing peacefully in her compartment. She gave a little grunt of
greeting as he looked in, then went to sleep once more.
As
time went on she had been paying less and less attention to his comings and
goings. No longer did she romp with him in mimic combat, or play at tag with
him through the tree tops. She liked her soft nest, and rarely left it except
when urged by hunger or thirst. Chicma was getting very old.
Jan
took up his favorite bow and a well-filled quiver of arrows, and left. As he
plunged into his jungle, it was good to feel the soft leaf mold under his bare
feet, the cool leaves brushing against his face and body.
He
was meat-hungry, and his archery soon won him an unwary curassow. Having eaten,
he hurried onward with a fixed purpose—to reach, as soon as possible, the place
where he had found Ramona. With Bomo gone and Chicma become grouchy and
unsociable, he longed for the companionship of a friend. And Ramona was the
only other Living creature who had shown friendship for him.
She
attracted him, too, in a different way from the others. At thought of her his
pulse would quicken in a manner quite impossible to explain.
He shortened what had been a four-day journey
to three. Arriving at the edge of Don Femando's grove of young rubber trees,
he hurried to the place where he had last seen her. But he found only the
gnawed bones of the puma.
Recalling
the direction in which she had gone when called, he went that way and
eventually arrived at the patio gate. It was made from heavy planks which
fitted a high-arched gateway. He looked through a crack between two planks and
saw the object of his quest, seated beneath a tree and holding before her the
basket of white leaves with little black tracks on them.
Jan
knew nothing of the mechanism of the gate, and the smooth, plastered surface of
the high patio wall offered no opportunity for a finger hold, but he observed
that a branch of the tree under which the girl was sitting overhung the wall
near a branch of a rubber tree outside. This made a clear path for the
jungle-trained Jan.
Hearing
a slight sound in the tree above her, Ramona was about to cry out in fear, but
she stifled the sound when her knight-errant dropped softly beside her.
"Janl" she
whispered. "You startled mel"
"Come see you,"
he responded. "Jan like you."
"Shh! Not so loud. You
will wake my duenna."
"Jan don'
understan'," he said, imitating her low tones.
She
rose, and drew aside the branch of a bushy shrub, one of a clump. Just behind
it he saw a short and very round woman in black, seated in a gaudily striped
lawn chair with her hands folded in her lap, snoring quite audibly. The thought
flashed to his mind that this must be some deadly enemy of Ramona's. With a low
growl he whipped his bow and arrow from the quiver, and took quick aim at the
old lady.
The horrified girl caught his hand.
"No,
nol You must not hurt her! She is my friend. She loves me'. But she must not
know that you are here with me." Puzzled, the youth replaced bow and arrow
in his quiver. "Jan try understan'," he whispered. She laid a hand on
his arm.
"Sit here beside me," she said,
"so you will not be seen. Then, if we talk quietly, no one will know that
you are here, and perhaps you may come again."
They
talked for nearly half an hour, Jan asking questions in his limited broken
English aided by the universal language of signs, and Ramona trying to explain things to him. He asked her
about the little basket of white leaves covered with many black tracks, and she
told him the little tracks talked to her. She told him the basket was called a
"book," and that the tracks were called "letters," while
groups of tracks were called "words."
At the end of a half hour Ramona said:
"You
must go now, Jan. As soon as Señora Soledade
finishes her siesta she will look for me, and I don't want her to see you.
Come tomorrow at this time, and I will be here."
Jan
left without protest, going over the wall as he had come. Once in the jungle,
he shot a peccary, ate his fill, drank deeply at the river, and crept beneath
the' roots of a ceiba
to dream of a pair of
lustrous brown eyes.
And Ramona, having sent him away, was thrilled by her
power over this handsome youth who, though he was a mighty slayer of fierce
beasts and savage men, obeyed her lightest request without question.
XII
IN A
SERPENT'S COILS
On
the following day, and
for many days thereafter, Jan met Ramona beneath the tree in the garden. As she
had made it plain that she did not want these meetings known, he always came
and went with the utmost caution. The hollow beneath the roots of the ceiba tree became his home. The fruit and game of the nearby jungle supplied
him with ample food.
On the second day, Don Fernando, walking in
the patio with his spotless white suit and smoking his long, slim cigar, had a
narrow escape from death when Ramona stopped Jan just in time as he was
preparing to launch an arrow. Gradually she was able to make him understand
how dear her father, mother and duenna were to her, and that her tutor and the
servants were friends who must not be slain or injured.
Much of the time she spent in tutoring him.
Jan was an eager pupil, and mastered the alphabet in a few days. Then he
tackled an English reader. Ramona's parents, having been educated in the United
States, she was able to correct Jan's accent.
He was particularly interested in her books
on natural history. Many animals he recognized at once by their pictures,
having seen them in the jungle. He marveled at the pictures of the mighty
prehistoric monsters, saying he wished he could meet and overcome some of them
in battle. He was quite disappointed when Ramona told him they were all dead.
Jan was greatly attracted, too, by Ramona's
writing and drawing materials. For many days, he watched her sketch. Then, one
day, she gave him pencil, paper, and drawing board, and found that, without
training, he could do almost as well as she. His greatest delight was to copy
the pictures in the natural history books, labeling each sketch with its
correct name, which, having once learned, he never forgot.
Each
day Jan brought some offering from the jungle for his little goddess. He sought
out the rarest orchids and the most luscious fruits and berries. Once, after an
encounter with a Carib native, he brought her a necklace of jaguar teeth. But
she did not dare to keep it, much to his disappointment.
Jan
noticed that she had in the palm of her right hand, a blue tracing of a
many-petaled flower. One day, with pen and ink, he traced a similar flower in
his own palm. But to his surprise, the ink soon rubbed off. He tried to find
out what made hers stay, but she didn't know. The mark had been there always—as
long as she could remember.
One
afternoon Jan was drawing, using a sharp, flexible pen and India ink, when he
accidentally pricked his finger. The next morning he noticed a little blue spot
where the wound had been. When, after a lapse of several days, the spot
remained, he. began to trace a blue flower in his own palm in this manner. The
work took some time, and cost him a sore hand for a while, but he ended by
having a permanent tattoo mark almost identical with that of Ramona, and was
delighted with the result.
As
soon as he had learned sufficient English, Jan told Ramona about his early life
in the menagerie, and of Dr. Bracken, whom he called "Cruel One." He
was amazed and deeply relieved when Ramona told him that it was impossible for
Chicma to have been his mother. He often wondered after that what his real
mother was like, and if he would ever see her.
For more than two months, Jan lived beneath
the ceiba
near the plantation,
watching the rubber workers, the house servants, and Ramona's parents and
friends, and stealing in to see her at every opportunity.
To
Ramona these secret meetings with her jungle hero were delightfully romantic.
She felt a little remorseful about them at first, knowing that her parents would
not approve. But she had only promised her father that she would not leave the
house or the patio alone, and this promise was being carried out to the letter.
When
she had progressed sufficiently with her studies, her parents planned to send
her to the United States, then to Europe, to complete her education. At the end
of the two-month period of Jan's stay the time for her departure was near at
hand. He noticed a change in her and asked what was wrong, but she would not
tell him until the last day.
As
she was helping him with his reading lesson, a tear suddenly splashed on the
page. Jan looked at her in surprise.
"What is the
matter?" he asked. "Why do you cry?"
"I'm
going away for a long time," she said. "I may never see you
again."
"If you go away I will follow," he
replied.
"You
must not try to follow," she said. "You could only go along for a
little way, anyhow. First we will travel down the river in some of my father's
small boats. We will go around the rapids, several of them, the Indians carrying
the boats and luggage. Then we will take a small steamer. This steamer will
carry us to a seaport where we will take a bigger one that will take us across
the ocean, far, far from here. Many thousands of miles."
"But won't you come
back?"
"I hope to, some day. But it will be a
long tune."
"I will wait and watch
for you," said Jan.
He
stood up and slung his quiver over his shoulder. There was a heavy weight in
his breast, and something was choking him.
Suddenly
Ramona stood on tiptoes, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"Goodby,"
she whispered. "Wait for me, and I'll wait for you."
Then
she darted off through the shrubbery, light-footed as a young deer.
To
Jan, who had never before been kissed, who had not known there was such a
thing, it was a most astounding and pleasant experience. For a moment he stood
in a daze, gazing after the fleeing girl. Then he scampered up the tree, swung
out on the limb, and dropped to the ground beyond the patio wall.
At
last his preoccupied mind thought of Chicma, and he felt a twinge of remorse at
having neglected her so long. No knowing what might have happened to her.
Plunging into the jungle, he resolved to go straight to his tree-hut. Never
before had he been separated from Chicma for so long, and though the old
comradeship had dwindled, he could never forget the tender care she had given
him, nor the many romps they had taken together. He was very sad and lonely,
and his mind was filled with gloomy forebodings.
As fast as he had hurried away from the hut,
he hurried back.
Late in the afternoon of the third day, he
reached his objective. He peered into the hut and called softly in the language
of the chimpanzees.
There was no answer. The
hut was deserted.
Alarmed,
he swung out on one of the upper limbs and called again, as loudly as he could
shout.
He
was surprised and delighted when the answer came back from almost directly
beneath him. Chicma was waddling unconcernedly along the edge of the pool,
eating a banana. Then Jan saw a sight that changed his cry of delight to a low,
scarcely audible growl.
Swimming
swiftly across the pool in the peculiar, zigzag manner of serpents was an
immense anaconda. There was no mistaking its purpose. With its massive head swaying
on its arched neck, and forked tongue darting from between its scaly lips, it
swam straight for Chicma.
Jan shouted a warning, but
too late.
For
a moment the great head poised above the cringing ape. Then the jaws with their
cruel, back-curved fangs, gaped wide and the serpent struck.
XIII
DR. BRACKEN'S CLUE
Dr.
Bracken knew, when he saw that Jan and Chicma had
been carried off on a Venezuelan schooner, that his elaborate plans for revenge
had been delayed. He would not admit that they had been defeated. He had always
been a man of fixed purpose, and now his determination became so strong that
nothing short of death itself could have stopped him.
Back
in his office after his fruitless tramp through the swamp, he sat with his feet
on his desk, smoking innumerable black stogies and scheming.
At
first he thought of taking a steamer for Venezuela and checking up on the
arrivals there. But his African trip and some unlucky stock ventures had
reduced his fortune to a few thousand dollars, and his professional income had
dwindled to scarcely more than a pittance a trip to South America would be
expensive, and perhaps fruitless, as the schooner might have visited and left
any one of a hundred other ports before he could reach it. Then, too, Chicma
might have died at sea, for chimpanzees have delicate constitutions. In that
case it would be almost impossible to trace Jan.
He
could look up the names of all schooners sailing under the flag of Venezuela
and write letters of inquiry to their masters, offering a reward. But this
might implicate him in a kidnapping case.
• He
decided that his best plan would be to run blind advertisements regularly in
the newspapers of Venezuela's chief seaports. So he inserted notices in all of
them twice weekly for several months.
At
the end of that time, when no answers had come, he wrote to the masters of all
Venezuelan schooners, using an alias and living in Jacksonville for the purpose
of getting his mail there under the assumed name. He received courteous replies
from every ship's master to whom he had written, but not one could tell him
what he sought to know.
In
desperation, Dr. Bracken resorted to his original plan, some nine months after
Jan's escape. Selling his menagerie and what securities he had, he deposited
the money in a Tampa bank, obtained letters of credit, and left.
First
he called at every United States port on the Gulf of Mexico. Then he obtained
passports and called at every other port on the gulf, the Bay of Campeche, and
the Caribbean Sea. Still unsuccessful, but unwilling to give up, he circled the
entire continent of South America, spending some time in each port, and returning
via the Panama Canal.
Nearly
three years after Jan's escape, he got back to Citrus Crossing with his meager
fortune dissipated—only to find a letter there, postmarked "Cumana."
With trembling, eager fingers, he opened it and read in Spanish:
Dear Sir:
Today I bought a bottle of tequila, and the
man who sold it to me wrapped it in an old newspaper. When I unwrapped it later
I noticed your advertisement.
I am the ship's master who captured the ape you mention. With her was a
wild boy with red hair. My ship, the Santa Margarita, was
driven out of her course and sunk by a hurricane. The boy and ape, together
with my first mate, a Haitian Negro, escaped into the jungle.
Having
lost my fortune with my ship, and being compelled to earn my living as a day laborer,
I have not had the means to pursue them. But I have heard rumors of their
doings, and could easily locate them for you if supplied with the money to
finance an expedition into the jungle. I should be delighted to undertake this
for a reasonable compensation.
I am, sir, your most humble and obedient
servant, Captain
Francesco Santos.
Dr. Bracken thoughtfully stroked his
iron-gray beard. Then he lit a black stogie and sat down, puffing fiercely.
Fate, it seemed, had not only worked against him, but was now laughing at him.
For she at last revealed the one person who could lead him to Jan—but after she
had stripped him of the money needed for going after the boy.
The
doctor was not a man to accept defeat, however, even from Fate. There would be
a way to carry on; there must be a way.
Suddenly
he slapped his thigh and laughed. An idea had occurred to him which appealed to
his grim sense of humor. By a clever juggling of the facts he felt sure that
Harry Trevor, Jan's father, could be made to pay all expenses for the
expedition, including the doctor's own.
Over
in the harbor of Tampa the palatial yacht Georgia A. rode idly at anchor, awaiting the whim of her
master. This and Trevor's millions would be at his disposal, Dr. Bracken saw
with satisfaction.
The
Trevors were having tea on their spacious screened veranda when he drove up.
"Welcome
home, doc," said Harry Trevor, genially, rising and extending his hand as
the doctor came in. "Have a pleasant trip?"
"Rather,"
replied the physician, as they shook hands. "As trips go, it wasn't half
bad."
He released the young millionaire's hand and
looked at Georgia Trevor with an involuntary catch of his breath. If anything,
she grew more beautiful year by year in spite of her great sorrow. She was a
trifle thinner, a little paler than she had been in that bygone time when his
love had turned to hate. But her velvety skin was unmarred by wrinkles, and the
shimmering copper of her hair was still untouched by the silversmith called
Time. Only in her big blue eyes might one see the shadow of the tragedy that
had all but deprived her of life itself—the tragedy which, though she did not
suspect, had been brought about by the man who was now smiling down at her, his
white teeth gleaming against the dark background of his beard.
The doctor advanced and
bowed low over her hand.
"I see you have been
busy during my absence," he said.
"Busy? Doing
what?"
"Growing more
beautiful."
She
laughed—a little silvery ripple that had an undertone of sadness.
"What'll
it be, old man?" asked Trevor. "Tea, or something stronger? My
bootlegger just brought me some excellent Scotch."
"Tea will do,
thanks."
He
took a seat at the table and watched Georgia as she gracefully poured the amber
beverage. Trevor pushed lemons, sugar and cream before him.
The
doctor helped himself to cream and sugar, and stirred his beverage thoughtfully
for a moment. Finally he spoke.
"I
don't want you to take it too seriously, yet," he said, "for it is
possible that I am mistaken. However, I believe I have some great news for you two."
Georgia Trevor leaned
forward eagerly.
"It's not about—it
can't be about our baby!" she exclaimed.
"Yes."
The
teacup dropped from her fingers, and the two men sprang to her support, as she seemed
about to faint. But she steadied herself resolutely.
"I'm—I'm quite all
right. Tell me!"
The
doctor sat down once more, and Trevor collected the fragments of the shattered
cup.
"You will remember that an ape of mine
wandered away about three years ago," began the doctor. "A female
chimpanzee. She was a valuable animal and a favorite pet of mine, so I spared
no expense in my attempts to recapture her.
"I
followed her into the swamp, but eventually lost the trail, nor did I hear
anything of her for several months afterward. But one day while hunting I met
an old 'cracker' who lived by himself back in the swamps. He told a strange
tale of having seen the ape, in company with a red-headed youth about sixteen
years old, captured by the crew of a Venezuelan schooner. Both were taken
aboard the ship, which then sailed away.
"I
doubted the tale at first, but as it was my sole remaining clue, I decided to
act upon it. I advertised in the leading Venezuelan newspapers without result.
But today, upon my return, a letter was waiting for me. Written in answer to my
ad, it confirms the strange story of the old cracker, who has since died. How
this boy and my chimpanzee came to be traveling together is a mystery. Possibly
the same person who kidnaped your baby captured my ape. Perhaps, after becoming
friends, they escaped together. At any rate they were really captured together,
and together were shipwrecked on the coast of South America. Listen to
this."
He
took the letter of Santos from his pocket, opened, and read it.
Georgia Trevor turned to her husband, her
eyes alight with hope.
"It
must be our boy, Harry!" she exclaimed. "I am sure it is. Can't we go
to South America at once and look for him? Oh, I want him so!"
"We certainly can, dear," he said.
"Ill send a wire to Tampa, so the yacht will be provisioned and ready.
Then well drive over in the morning, get aboard, and be off." He turned to
the doctor. "You're coming with us, aren't you, doc?"
The physician sighed.
"Like to," he responded, "but
I'm afraid I can't. You see, I had a little run of bad luck with stocks. I'm
cleaned." • "Don't let that worry you, old man. I want to pay all
expenses, you know. Insist on it. And we need you, not only because of your
medical knowledge but because you are a seasoned traveler and jungle explorer.
I'd like to have you take charge of the expedition on a salary—name it yourself
—and all expenses paid. Just tell me how much you need at present, and I'll
advance it now."
The
details were soon settled. Money was cabled to Santos, and he was instructed
to organize and take charge of a party for the expedition, and then to await
the arrival of the yacht.
The
next morning the Georgia A. steamed out of Tampa harbor, bound for
South America.
XIV
THE HIDDEN VALLEY
Jan
hesitated for
a moment when he saw the cruel jaws of the immense anaconda close on the
shoulder of Chicma. Then, running lightly out to the end of the limb on which
he stood, he dived for a point beside the great, thick coils that were
slithering up out of the pool to encircle their victim.
Although
it was a much higher dive than he had ever made, Jan struck the water cleanly
and came up beside the serpent. Whipping out his machete, he hacked again and again at the writhing coils. The waters of the pool
seethed with the struggles of man, ape and serpent.
Presently
the anaconda released its hold on Chicma, who was, by this time, near the
curtain of water dripping from above. She instantly scrambled through it, and
Jan was left alone to fight it out with the huge reptile, which had now turned
all its attention to him.
With jaws gaping and neck arched above the
foaming water, it struck straight for his face. But although the dart of the
serpent was incredibly swift, the counter-stroke of Jan was quicker. His machete flashed in a shimmering arc, its keen edge half severing the reptile's
enormous head from its body. Feebly, the snake attempted to strike again, but
this time the machete completed its task, and the gaping head flew
off to sink out of sight, while the scaly body continued to writhe and flounder
aimlessly about in the water.
Jan's
first concern was for Chicma, whom he had seen as she crawled through the sheet
of falling water. Plunging in after her, he found her huddled against the cliff
beneath the falls, whimpering and licking her wounded shoulder.
"Cornel"
he barked in the chimpanzee language. "Let us go back to the hut."
"No. Sleepy One will
get me."
"But he has gone to sleep forever."
"I will not go. He
might wake up."
He coaxed, but to no avail.
Then he thought of the open valley at the
other end of the cavern where he had met the hairy men.
Perhaps he could persuade her to go that way. And anyhow, he wanted to explore
the valley and to avenge himself on the hairy creatures who had attacked him.
He would teach them and their kind to let him alone, as he had taught the
Indians of the jungle.
He went back to the tree-hut, where he
gathered an assortment of weapons: a bow and a quiverful of arrows, a blow-gun
with a supply of poisoned darts, and a spear. He also exchanged the machete he was carrying for one slightly larger and heavier.
Returning
to where Chicma cowered beneath the waterfall, he said:
"Come. We leave this
place."
She followed him obediently as he climbed the
notches in the face of the cliff and entered the cave guarded by the hawk-faced
and dog-faced statues. She was not afraid to go with him through the dark
corridors of the cavern. But she balked when they reached the place where it
was necessary to enter the water once more in order to get out into the
sunlight. Twice she had been injured by monsters that had come up out of the
water—an alligator and an anaconda— and she feared it.
After coaxing and arguing for some time to no
avail, Jan decided to take his weapons through first, then come back after her.
He made them into a bundle with the curari-tipped blowgun darts on the top, so the poison would not be washed from
their points. Supporting the bundle, half in and half out of the water, with
one hand he swam out into the sunlight. Making for the shore, he bid his bundle
in a clump of reeds, then swam back into the
cavern.
Chicma,
seeing him return unhurt, finally decided to go back with him.
As
solicitous as a mother for her babe, Jan helped Chicma through the underground
channel. She had cared for him in his years of helplessness, and now that she
grew more dependent day by day, he felt that come what might he must care for
her.
Emerging into the sunlight, they swam for the
shore and climbed up the bank. Standing on the top, they shook themselves like
two dogs.
Jan
gathered up his weapons and they started off down the broken, weed-grown
avenue. To the ape, the grotesque images which lined the approach to the temple
ruins were only so many oddly shaped stones, but to the boy they were a source
of wonder and curiosity. He eyed each one suspiciously as he came near it,
fearful lest it should suddenly come to life and attack them. He also kept a
sharp lookout for his former enemies, the hairy men.
On
reaching the portal of the ruined temple, they advanced cautiously, Jan
keeping his weapons in readiness in case some unseen enemy should leap out from
behind a pillar or fallen rock fragment.
A
large part of the roof had caved in, but many sections were still intact. The
walls were decorated with brightly colored murals, and much statuary stood
about on pedestals and in niches. The floor was of smooth, well-matched tiles
laid in geometric designs. All of these things appealed tremendously to Jan's
inherent artistic and aesthetic nature, so that he proceeded slowly in order to
gaze his fill at the new wonders constantly appearing before him.
The
building consisted of a central auditorium, around which were many corridors
and anterooms. At one end of the great hall, on a semicircular platform, stood a colossal image of a man with a thin,
sickle-like beard curving outward from the point of his chin. On the head was
a tall crown, ornamented on each side with a curling plume and a twisted horn,
and in front with a smooth, golden disk. One huge hand held a three-lashed whip, and the other a short-handled
crook;
Passing on through the ruins of the building,
Jan and Chicma emerged in the remains of what had once been a large and
magnificent garden, circled by a high stone wall. Despite the fact that it was
overgrown with weeds and creepers, there remained many flowers, shrubs and
trees. In the center an ornate fountain of marble and camelian splashed
musically.
At
the far end of the garden was a small, vine-covered bower. Jan wandered toward
this, admiring several small statuettes which stood along the pathway, while
Chicma made straight for an orange tree near the wall.
He
had passed the fountain only a little way when he saw something that caused him
to stiffen in his tracks, then silently dart behind a clump of shrubbery. A
thing inside the bower had moved; an immense thing with striped sides and back,
and a huge, cat-like head.
Loading
his blow-gun with a poisoned dart, Jan waited tensely. The great shaggy head
slowly emerged into the pathway, followed by a striped body as large as that of
a burro. With tasselled ears laid back and eight-inch tusks gleaming, its
appearance was terror-striking.
Jan
recognized the creature instantly from a picture he had seen in one of Ramona's
books. It was a saber-toothed tiger, and Ramona had told him it belonged to a
past age, that there were no longer any such creatures on earth. Apparently
she had been misinformed.
The
primeval giant cat had evidently been awakened from its nap by the sound of
their entrance into its retreat, and resented it. Noting the direction of its
baleful gaze, Jan saw that it was watching Chicma as she sat on one of the
lower branches of the orange tree, greedily devouring the fragrant fruit.
Jan put his blow-gun to his lips and sped a
tiny dart at the monster. The slender missile imbedded itself in the great
striped shoulder, and clung. The creature shook itself, dislodging it.
Evidently the small projectile had not caused this big cat any more
inconvenience or pain than the sting of an insect.
Knowing
the usual effect of the curort
poison with which he had
tipped the dart, Jan waited, expecting to see the creature sink down dead in
its tracks. But instead, it charged straight for the tree in which Chicma was
feeding, uttering a roar louder and more terrible than any Jan had ever heard.
As
the beast charged, Jan sent a second dart into its side. He shot a third into
its heaving flank as it leaped for the lower branches of the orange tree.
Chicma
had taken one look at the charging carnivore and scampered for the topmost
branches of the tree, but when she saw it leaping up toward her she swung over
the top of the high wall and dropped out of sight on. the other side.
The
poison from the first dart had evidently not been enough to paralyze the motor
nerves of the huge beast. But the triple dose began to take effect as it caught
the lower branches of the tree. It clung to them for a moment, snarling and
roaring, then fell to the ground on its back.
Jan
knew that no member of the cat tribe would fall on its back from that height
unless it was very near death, so he waited. After thrashing about for some
time in the undergrowth, the mighty killer finally lay still.
Before
approaching it, Jan fired an arrow into the carcass. As no movement followed,
he was convinced that the monster was sleeping its last long sleep, and
advanced to examine it. For some time he looked the beast over, marveling at
its long, sickle-shaped claws, its bulging muscles, and its immense saber-like
tusks. What a fearful antagonist it would makel Jan had fought the jaguar and
the puma, machete against teeth and claws, and won, but he felt
very dubious indeed about the outcome of such a duel with one of these
monsters.
However, it had gone to sleep now, never to
waken. He must reassure Chicma. He called to her, but there was no reply. He
called again at the top of his voice. Still no answer.
Alarmed, he scrambled up the orange tree and
onto the top of the wall. He was looking out over a vast, rolling plain —a savanna
of tall, waving grass, dotted here and there with clumps of trees. Meeting at
the point where the river went underground and traveling as far as he could see
to the right and left, until lost in the blue haze, was an unbroken line of
tall cliffs, encircling the valley through which the river meandered. Beyond
the plain before him was a dense forest. Chicma's trail of trampled grass led
that way; she had set out for the jungles of this great closed valley.
After
caching his blow-gun darts and spear in one of the anterooms of the temple in
order to lighten his burden, Jan hurried after the chimpanzee, following the
plainly marked trail with ease through the tall, rustling grass.
This
grass, with its rough cutting edges, reminded Jan of the sawgrass he had encountered in the Everglades. It brought hateful memories of Dr. Bracken, and the life he had lived as a
prisoner in the menagerie.
He
had thought he would easily catch up with the aged Chicma in a few minutes, but
before he had gone far he knew that her great fright at the saber-toothed tiger
had caused her to run much faster than usual. At last he caught sight of her,
just passing over the brow of a low hill ahead.
Then
he saw something that checked the shout on his lips and brought him to an
abrupt halt—a row of hideous monsters, with sharp horns on the tips of their
noses and just above their eyes, were galloping over the hill. Their shoulders
were protected by great bony ruffs, and behind these, mounted on their backs,
sat men clad in shiny yellow armor and carrying long lances.
Knights—mounted on triceratops! Jan
recognized both from pictures he had seen in Ramona's books. But she had said
that both belonged to the past, that such things were no more.
With
a shriek of fear, Chicma turned and attempted to flee, but in a twinkling she
was surrounded, and a half dozen of the armored men had alighted and were
advancing toward her.
Jan's
fust impulse at sight of that formidable host was to run. But when he saw Chicma surrounded, his loyalty held him. Fitting an
arrow to his bowstring, he launched it at the man who stood nearest to the
cowering chimpanzee. To his surprise, the six-foot shaft rebounded harmlessly
from the glistening yellow cuirass. He released a second, and this glanced off
the metal helmet, narrowly missing Chicma.
But
the first arrow had revealed his presence to the enemy. Wild shouts of the
armored men mingled with the hoarse bellows and thundering hoof beats of their
fearsome mounts as they charged. In a trice he was surrounded by a circle that
bristled with triple-horned heads and glittering lance points.
Jan dropped his bow, whipped out his heavy machete, and stood at bay. Several of his assailants
dismounted and came toward him carrying long, two-edged swords in their hands.
A moment more and he would have been cut to ribbons, had not there come a
sharp command from one of the men who had remained mounted. At this, the
advancing warriors sheathed their weapons and leaped in, clutching him with
their mailed hands.
Despite
his valiant resistance, his machete was
soon wrested from him, his wrists were bound together behind his back, and he
was flung into a saddle in front of one of the riders.
As
the cavalcade moved away, Jan saw with relief that Chicma, too, was a prisoner,
and not slain as he had feared.
Although
the great beasts which carried the mailed warriors were ponderous and
clumsy-looking, they traveled across the grassy plain at a considerable speed.
It was not long before they reached the forest which Jan had seen from the wall
of the ruins. It was much like his jungle of the outside world, though many of
the plants were new and strange to him. Here shrub, tree and vine intermingled
in such a thick and impenetrable tangle that the riders were forced to pass,
single file, along a narrow tunnel which had evidently been cut for the purpose
through the thickly interwoven vegetation.
A moment later there flashed through Jan's
nimble mind a plan for making his escape. They had entered one of the thickest
and darkest parts of the jungle when he suddenly pivoted in the saddle,
catching the man who rode behind him with his elbow, just below the armpit, and
hurled him off his mount to the right. Almost at the same instant, he threw
himself into the thicket at his left.
Because
his hands were bound behind him, Jan fell on his face in the undergrowth. But
he quickly scrambled to his feet and dashed away. The shouts of men, the clank
of armor and the crashing of jungle growths apprised him of pursuit, and he
hurried breathlessly onward.
Although
the swift mounts and heavy armor of the warriors had been to their advantage
for capturing Jan in the open, they were a hindrance in the jungle. Soon they
fell so far behind that the sounds of pursuit came but faintly to the fugitive's
ears. But he did not slacken his pace.
The jungle came to an end with unexpected
abruptness, and Jan found himself on the margin of a small stream thickly
dotted with water lilies. Just in front of him a black-robed figure—a white
man—stood in the stem of a black boat, built and carved to resemble a huge
alligator with head and tail up-curved from the water. The man in the black
robe, a thickset, ruddy-faced, bullet-headed fellow with a shaved poll, held a
long, stout pole with which he was evidently about to push off from shore. But
as soon as he saw Jan, the robed man quickly shifted his hold and swung the
pole bludgeon-like for his head. Jan dodged, and turned to reenter the shelter
of the jungle.
But
at that moment his feet slipped on the muddy bank, and he fell, face downward.
The boatman's long staff, which he had avoided the first time, swung again as
he tried to scramble to his feet. This time it struck him squarely on the right
temple, and brought oblivion.
XV
THE BLACK PRISON
When
Jan recovered consciousness once more he was
lying in the bottom of the boat, which the black-robed man was poling up the
narrow stream. He tried to move, and found that not only his wrists, but his
ankles also, were bound. Piled . in the boat around him were many baskets of
lotus plants which his captor had gathered.
At
first they passed only the moss-draped, liana-laced border of the jungle, but
they presently arrived at a place where a high wall of black marble fronted the
stream. The prow of the boat grounded at the base of a flight of steps which
led up from the water's edge to a massive gate that barred a great arched
gateway. At each side of this stood a guard in black armor, holding a long pike
and wearing a sword and dagger.
The
man in the boat shouted, and the gate swung back. A dozen black-robed figures
came through it and down the steps. Some of them dragged the prow of the boat
higher, while others took out the baskets of lotus plants. Many exclaimed in
apparent surprise as they saw Jan lying bound in the bottom of the boat, but
none offered to touch him.
When
the cargo of plants had been removed, Jan's captor looped a rope around his
neck. Then he drew a knife from his girdle and cut the rope that bound his
ankles, signing for him to rise.
Jan
stood up, and his head swam dizzily, for it was still rocking from the blow he
had received. But his captor, with a hoarse command which he could not
comprehend, stepped out of the boat and tugged at the rope circling his neck—an
unspoken order which the captive understood very well— and which he had to
obey.
After
following his conductor up the steps, Jan was led through ap immense garden of
well-kept flowers, shrubs and trees. It was decorated with statuary depicting
some figures of rare beauty and others of surpassing ugliness. And dotted here
and there were pools and fountains. In some of these pools were sacred lotuses,
budding and in full bloom; in others, Jan saw the black-robes setting out the
plants which had just been taken from the nearby stream.
Having
crossed the garden, they entered a doorway where two more black-armored pikemen
stood guard in an immense building of black marble. Then they followed for some
distance a long corridor, the floor of which was of black and silver tiles,
and the walls of which were decorated with brightly colored murals. Many
doorways opened into this corridor, but Jan's captor did not pause until he
reached a great arched opening at its very end.
Here
he was halted by two guards, each of whom, in addition to his sword and dagger,
carried an immense broad-ax. After exchanging a few words with Jan's captor,
they permitted him to pass into a large central room, the domed ceiling of
which resembled the sky on a starlit, moonless night. Conspicuous among the
sparkling constellations was—though Jan, of course, did not know what it was—a
magnified representation of the planet Saturn, showing globe and rings as they
would look through a telescope.
Jan
stared in wonder and amazement at this vivid and exaggerated representation of
the nighttime sky. Then his attention was attracted by a group of black-robed
figures standing on the other side of the room at the right and left of a
great, black throne.
His
captor jerked him roughly forward, nearly choking him, and advancing
obsequiously, knelt before the black throne.
Seated on the throne was a man whose
emaciated features were of chalky paleness—a white skin stretched over a nearly
fleshless skull. On his head was a shimmering silver helmet, the crest of which
was fashioned to represent the arched head and neck of an alligator. It
sparkled with many jewels, dominated by an immense emerald that flashed above
the center of his forehead.
His
lank body was incased, also, in silver armor, and over his shoulders was thrown
a long, black cape, broidered and bordered with silver and jewels. Depending
from about his neck by a slender chain was a ball of silver, circled with many
concentric disks of the same metal—an emblem of the planet, Satum.
As
he stared down at Jan, his ghastly features were immobile, inscrutable. Only
his sunken eyes, which glowed with the greenish light that characterizes the
orbs of night-prowling beasts, showed any signs of animation. And their gaze
was baleful—menacing.
After
looking at Jan for a moment, he addressed a few words to his captor. The latter
replied at some length. When he had finished, the man on the throne made a sign with his right hand. As he did so, the youth noticed that in his
palm was tattooed a blue flower like that in the palm of Ramona, a copy of
which was in Jan's own palm.
In
response to the gesture, a fat, black-robed, shaved-headed fellow with heavy
pink jowls came and bowed before the throne, extending a metal box with the
lid thrown back. From this box the man on the throne selected a jeweled
bracelet, which he tossed to Jan's still kneeling captor. Then he clapped his
hands, whereupon two armored guards clanked into the room from a door at the
side of the dais.
At a
word of command from the man on the throne, each of them seized Jan by an arm,
and together they marched him away. After they had gone down a narrow and
tortuous corridor for a long way, they came out into a sunlit courtyard paved
with black granite. Crossing this, they arrived before a massive gate, guarded
by four armored pikemen and four ax-men.
One
of the pikemen drew back a heavy bar, and the gate swung open. After removing
the rope from around Jan's neck and cutting his bonds with a dagger, his two
conductors pushed him through. Bewildered, he looked about him as the gate
closed behind him.
He
stood in a long, rectangular pen surrounded by
twenty-foot walls built of large granite blocks, smooth-faced and so carefully
fitted together that it was barely possible to see where they joined.
In
the pen were several hundred men—not white like his captors, yet lighter in
color than the Indians he had encountered in the jungle. Their skin seemed to
vary from light tan to yellow. Some of them closely resembled Indians except
for their lighter skins, but the eyes of most of them slanted more, and their
cheek bones were more pronounced. All wore leather breech clouts and sandals of
twisted grass, and some had gaudily colored blankets thrown over their shoulders.
They
were squatting on the ground or standing around in little groups, conversing.
But as soon as Jan entered he became the target for their glances, and
evidently the chief subject of their conversation. Many crowded around him,
chattering excitedly, and staring as if he were some strange beast on
exhibition. The ring drew closer.
Jan
snarled menacingly. He disliked Indians, for with a single exception they had
always proved hostile to him, always sought his life. These men reminded him of
Indians. But they gave way before him as he strode forward, stiffly erect and
alert for attack, toward the gate at the opposite end of the inclosure. Perhaps
they were awed by the fire that flashed from his steel-gray eyes. Or they may
have been impressed by the powerful muscles that rippled beneath his smooth
skin.
■
Having crossed the inclosure without being touched, Jan sat down in the shadow
of the gate. Although many slanting eyes still stared at him, no one had
followed. He considered plans for escape. He could not scale the twenty-foot
walls unaided. Furthermore, at intervals of thirty feet around the rim were
small sentry towers, each of which held two archers. Great stealth would be
required, even on the darkest night, to avoid these alert watchers and escape
with a whole skin.
XVI
THE DAY OF PAYMENT
Abruptly
the gate behind
Jan swung open. He sprang to his feet as four black-armored men entered,
marching abreast, carrying long swords in their hands. Behind them came a file
of slant-eyed, yellow-skinned slaves, naked save for breech clouts and sandals.
Each slave bore an immense tray on his head, and Jan saw that some were heaped
high with fruits, some with chunks of cooked meat, and some with golden-brown
cakes. Following these slaves were others who bore large earthenware jars on
their heads, and around whose waists cups hanging from wire hooks jingled
musically.
As
the gate closed behind them, the slaves carrying the trays knelt in a row,
still holding them on their heads. Those who carried the jars also knelt, and
set them on the ground.
The
occupants of the inclosure, meanwhile, hurried to form a long line, jostling
and crowding each other for the places nearest the front. Then, at a shout from
one of the swordsmen, they filed past the row of kneeling slaves, where each
was supplied with a piece of meat, a cake, some fruit, and a cupful of brown
beverage which was dipped from the jars, and which Jan afterward learned was
called chocolatl. The four swordsmen stood by, to see that no one got more than his share.
Jan
was hungry, having eaten nothing since entering the valley. He went to one of
the meat trays and was about to help himself when a swordsman shouted something
to him which he could not understand, and ran between him and the tray,
brandishing his weapon. Under the menace of the keen blade, Jan backed away, the
guard following him chattering and gesticulating.
He was made to understand that he must take
his place in the line, at the very end. So carefully had the supply of rations
been computed that when Jan finally reached them, but one portion of each thing
was left. With his meat, cake and fruit held in the curve of his left arm
before him, and his cup of chocolatl in
his right hand, he made his way through the jostling crowd. The slaves and
swordsmen withdrew, and he heard the gate slam shut after them.
Suddenly a brown hand reached over his
shoulder from behind and snatched his meat. With a low growl of rage, Jan
whirled to confront the pilferer. But there were no less than a half dozen men
behind him, each of whom might have been guilty. Each wore an innocent
expression, and none seemed to have more than one piece of meat.
Enraged
and disappointed at losing his favorite food, but unable to tell who snatched
it, he turned away to seek a spot where he might eat the remainder of his
rations undisturbed. Then a youth of about his own age stepped in front of him
with a friendly smile, and tearing his own piece of meat in two, offered him
half.
Jan was nonplused. The anger surging within
him made him feel like flying at any one who crossed his path. But his wrath dissolved
before that disarming smile and unselfish offer. He accepted the meat, and the
two lads sat down side by side to eat, neither knowing that this was to be the
beginning of a friendship that would be strong and lasting.
They
conversed by signs at first, but Jan soon made his companion understand that he
wished to know the names of things, by pointing to or touching them and looking
at him questioningly. As he was quick to learn and had an excellent memory, it
was not long before he was combining verbs and adjectives with his nouns, and
forming short sentences in this new language.
Weeks
passed, and though many prisoners were taken away and new ones brought in, Jan
and his companion remained. During this time Jan learned the language of the
yellow people, and also a considerable portion of that of their white captors,
which his friend taught him.
The
yellow-skinned youth's name was Koh Kan, Koh being his given name and Kan both
his family name and title. Tattooed in the palm of his right hand was a picture
of a feathered serpent, done in red. This, he told Jan, was a picture of
Kan.^the mighty serpent, earthly representative of the Fair God, Quetzalcoatl,
whose abode was in the sun, but who was expected to return some day to earth.
Koh's father, he said, was hereditary ruler of his race and High Priest of Kan,
so he was Prince Koh of the House of Kan. Jan had only a hazy idea of the
position of a prince, but he had noticed the great respect shown this one by
the yellow prisoners, and judged that it must be quite important.
Koh
said his people lived in a great city called Temukan, which was a long,
dangerous journey away, beyond an immense, muddy pit in which roved terrible
and gigantic monsters. They were always at war with the white people, he said,
whose chief city was called Satmu, and who worshiped a number of gods. His
people, he said, had but one sect and worshiped Quetzalcoatl in the person of
Kan, the great feathered serpent, who was propitiated with human
sacrifice—prisoners of war and convicted criminals.
The white people, he said, were divided into
four sects who worshiped two gods, Re and Asar; a goddess, Aset; and a demon,
Set—whose earthly representative was Sebek, a very terrible living water
monster. They also did homage to three minor divinities.
The Sect of Re, he said, wore gold-plated
armor, or clothing of a golden yellow color—such as had first captured Jan.
That of Asar wore white, and that of Aset light blue. But the Sect of Set wore
black.
"You
and I," he told Jan, "have been captured by the
people of Set."
"For what
purpose?" asked Jan.
"Each
day," said Koh, "you have noticed that two men are taken away, never
to return?"
"Yes, I have noticed that," replied Jan.
"They
are fed to the monster, Sebek," said Koh. "Some day we, too, shall be
fed to him, as will every man in this place."
"What is he
like?" Jan wanted to know.
"There
are said to be monsters like him in the great pit of mud which lies near the
center of the valley, but nowhere else," Koh told him. "His head and
long jaws are like those of an alligator, but many times bigger. His body is
very long, and his feet are like the fins of a fish. Here, I will show you."
With
the tip of his finger he sketched a picture of the creature he had described.
Then arising, he continued: "He is said to be this long," and stepped
off twenty paces, or about fifty feet.
"But
if there are other creatures like this," said Jan, "why is it that
they feed men to this one only?"
"He
is selected from among the others by the High Priest," Koh replied,
"who makes certain tests to ascertain whether or not the soul of Set has
descended into him. This only happens about once in five generations, as the
beasts are very long-lived, and a new one is selected from the pit only when an
old one dies."
At
every opportunity Jan made inquiries about Chicma, but he learned nothing until
one day when a prisoner who had formerly been a slave of the golden Sect of Re
told him he had seen her, and that she was kept as an object of great curiosity
in the royal palace of Satmu, having been presented to the empress by the
captain of a band of huntsmen who had captured her.
A few days after that, as Jan and Koh sat
talking, four guards walked up to where they sat.
"It
is the summonsl" whispered Koh. "We are to be fed to Sebekl Farewell,
friend Jan. I hope that we may meet and be friends in the next world."
The
two lads embraced, but were quickly torn apart by the guards, who hustled them
away.
XVII
A WARM TRAIL
On
one of the long wooden docks
that projected over the river in front of the Suarez hacienda, Don Fernando and
Doña Isabella, as well as a score of their Indian
servants, stood gazing intently downstream. Today Ramona was expected home from her first year of
school in the United States. A servant had just come dashing up to the house to
announce that the boats were coming.
After
gazing for a brief interval, Don Fernando removed his slim cigar from between
his hps and said to his wife:
"The mozo was wrong. Those are not our canoes."
"But
they must be," insisted Doña Isabella.
"Who else would be coming this way with so many boats?"
The don shrugged.
"Explorers, perhaps,
or a party of hunters. Well soon see."
There
were six canoes in all, most of them smaller than the six sent out by Don
Fernando in charge of Felipe Fuez, his foreman, with orders to meet and bring Ramona and her governess.
As
the first canoe drew near to the dock, the don carefully scanned the faces of
its occupants. Besides the four Indian paddlers it contained two white men—one
a swarthy Venezuelan with a small, pointed mustache, the other a lean, bearded
man wearing a pith helmet and khaki, who might be an American or an Englishman.
In the second boat rode two more people with pith helmets and khaki clothing.
One was a broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, athletic-looking fellow who appeared
to be in his middle thirties; the other was a woman, somewhat younger and quite
comely, whose curls glinted auburn in the reflected sunbeams that danced up
from the river. The other four boats contained Indian paddlers and luggage.
The
first canoe came up beside the dock. Its gunwale was seized by willing hands,
steadied.
The
don and doña
were smiling and gracious
now, masking their disappointment at not seeing Ramona, that they might welcome the strangers with
fitting cordiality.
When
the first two stood on the dock the bearded man took the initiative.
"I am Dr. Bracken, Don
Fernando," he said in Spanish.
"I
am honored, señor," replied
the don. "Doña Isabella, may I present Dr. Bracken?"
"An
honor and a pleasure," murmured the doctor, when the doña had acknowledged the introduction. "May I present Captain Santos?
"My other companions speak very little
Spanish," he added then. "Permit me to translate for you."
"Hardly
necessary," smiled the don. "I'm a Harvard man, and the doña attended Lake Forest University. Wé first
met in the States at a football game."
"Splendid!"
replied the doctor. "Then the introductions will be in English."
And
so they were. Doña
Isabella and Mrs. Trevor
soon found much in common, due to the former's residence in the States.
Suddenly
there came a cry from an Indian at the end of the dock.
"More canoes
coming!"
Don Fernando looked down the river. Two had
rounded the bend. A third was just nosing into sight. "Viva!" he cried. "Our boats!"
"It's our daughter, Ramona," explained Doña Isabella.
The
first canoe came on swiftly, outdistancing the others. It glided toward the
pier, propelled by the don's best paddlers, and steered by Ruiz himself, a big
fellow with a snowwhite mustache and goatee. He deftly guided it to the dock
amid shouts of welcome.
As
many willing hands steadied the boat, Ramona stood
up, leaped lightly out, ran into the arms of Doña Isabella, kissed and hugged Don Fernando. There were tears of joy in the
eyes of all three. The don held her away from him, admiring her proudly.
"How you have grown, my little one! And
how stunning you look in those 'flapper' clothes!"
Many
other pairs of eyes also admired the trim little figure, the lustrous dark
eyes and hair, and the skin of milk and roses. The usually half-closed orbs of
Captain Santos opened wide and he gasped involuntarily. As his eyes drank in
Ramona's youthful loveliness, passion flamed suddenly in his breast, was reflected
in the flush that mounted to his throbbing temples. Suddenly self-conscious and
fearful lest he had been noticed, he tore his eyes away and fumbled for a
cigarette. Not until he had lighted it did he cast a furtive glance around him.
No one, it seemed, had observed him. With a sigh of relief, he exhaled a cloud
of blue smoke.
But
there was one who had seen, and understood fully. Dr. Bracken, outwardly
unmoved, was inwardly gloating. For many days he had been looking for a rope
with which to bind Santos to his cause. Now it was revealed to him as plainly
as if the captain had spoken his thoughts aloud.
Fussing
like a brooding hen, the short and rotund duenna, Señora Soledade, was on the dock now.
Doña Isabella
was introducing Ramona
and Georgia Trevor. The
girl started perceptibly as she clasped the hand of the aubum-haired woman and
for the first time had a good look at her features.
"What is wrong?" asked the older
woman.
"It's—it's
nothing at all. You look wonderful. You remind me strangely of someone
else."
Don
Fernando gave some crisp orders about the luggage. The Indians scrambled to
obey, and the party moved toward the house.
According
to Don Femando's code, it would have been very bad taste to ask the purpose of
his guests' expedition.
The
subject did not come up until all had gathered for dinner.
"I'm
curious to know," said Georgia Trevor to Ramona, "about this person
who so greatly resembles me."
"His
name is Jan," replied Ramona, "and he is only a little older than I.
He once rescued me from a puma."
The
effect of this statement on the four guests was electric. The eyes of Santos
narrowed slightly. Dr. Bracken retained perfect control of his features, but
he could not prevent the sudden pallor that spread over them at the mention of Jan's
name. Harry Trevor's face showed his intense interest: that of his wife, sudden
hope.
"Slighdy
older than you—resembling me!" she cried. "Harry, it must be our boyl
He would be nineteen now. Tell me more about him, my dear—tell me all about
him!"
With
flashing eyes, Ramona related the story of her rescue. Her description of Jan
was so favorable that her hero worship was obvious to all. She said nothing
about her frequent meetings with him, although she hoped to resume them. Don
Fernando had given his opinion of Jan quite plainly.
"For Dios!" exclaimed the captain. "That ees him, all right! Ees wan dangerous
hombre, too, I tal' you. Me, I rather meet the hongry puma, any time."
"He's
dangerous only to those who would harm him," flashed Ramona. "I am not
afraid to meet him."
"I
feel," interposed Harry Trevor, "that we owe our host and hostess an
explanation. If you don't mind, my dear"— with a look at his
wife—"I'll begin at the beginning and tell them why we have come into the
South American jungles."
She
nodded assent, and while all listened in rapt attention, and with varying
emotions, he related the entire tale. The don and dona were sympathetic, eager
to help. Ramona hoped that these people, whom she had begun to like very much,
would really prove to be Jan's parents.
After
dinner coffee, liqueurs and cigars were served on the terrace that overlooked
the patio, and quite early everyone retired.
The
rooms of Dr. Bracken and the captain were opposite each other. As they walked
down the hall together, the doctor invited Santos in for a chat. Santos sat
down and lit a cigarette while the doctor softly closed the door. After
listening for a moment, he returned and flung himself into a chair.
"It's
about time, captain," the doctor said evenly, "that you and I came to
a complete understanding. I'm not going to beat around the bush. You want to
make money, don't youP"
"St."
"And today you saw something which you
want even more than money." "I don't gat you."
"Yes
you do. I wasn't blind today, Santos, when we stood on the pier as a certain
party arrived. Now, suppose I am willing to help you realize your desire. Would
you be willing to help me realize a certain wish of my own? To work with me and
keep your mouth shut?"
"St,
señor. I work to beat hal' and keep the mouth shut
tight."
"Finel
Now what do you suppose would happen if you were to go to Don Fernando and
propose marriage with his young daughter?"
"Plantyr
"Yes.
He'd kick you out of the house. Now suppose you were to approach the daughter
and suggest that she elope with you?"
The captain shrugged.
"Who knows what a woman will do, señor?"
"You
know and I know that she is not likely to consider the plea of a stranger twice
her age when she is in love with a handsome youth."
"So
I theenk you right. She's craz' about that keed, for sure."
"Now
where do you come in? What are your plans? You probably intend to steal that
child, run away with her at the first opportunity. You will try to force
marriage upon her— break down her will. If you succeed you will be the husband
of the heiress to the Suarez millions. Sooner or later her people would take
her back, and you with her. Suppose, on the other hand, that she would not
marry you under any consideration. You could demand, and probably get a
princely ransom. Failing in this, you would still have the girl—and to you, she
herself would be worth the ransom of a grandee. Am I right?"
"If so, what
then?"
"Simply
this: I want to find Jan at once and keep him away from this house until it
fits certain plans that I have to bring him here. I don't want his parents or
their friends to hear of his capture. If you are willing to help me and say
nothing, I'll be glad to do the same for you. Well, what do you say?"
"I
say, 'O.K.' amigo.
I'm weeth you till the cow
goes home."
XVIII
A DEATH HOLIDAY
A great
crowd filled the open-air
Temple of Sebek, a circular amphitheater near the great black Temple of Set.
Word had gone forth that two unusual sacrifices would go into the capacious maw
of the great fish-reptile Sebek this day—a prince of the House of Kan, and a
strange white savage.
Not
only were many black-robed priests present, and black-armored warriors, but
there were also nobles of the order of Set, with their black cloaks, in
special seats reserved for them. In other sections were tradesmen, artisans,
artists, scribes, musicians and laborers. Although their costumes varied
greatly in pattern and richness, all wore black, which identified them as the
followers of Set. No women or children were present.
On a raised platform of black marble stood
Samsu, High Priest of Set and cousin of the Emperor Mena, in his sacrificial
robes and ornaments. His pasty, skull-like countenance turned slowly from side
to side, and his small snaky eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he noted how
vast an audience had gathered to view this special sacrifice.
The feeding of Sebek was a daily rite at the
sun's zenith, and was therefore so common that when ordinary prisoners were
sacrificed no one attended except those priests and warriors whose presence was
commanded. But it was not often that Sebek feasted on royalty, and the white
savage was a distinct novelty.
The High Priest looked down at the monster, a
gigantic ichthyosaur, swimming back and forth in the deep pool, the surface of
which was about ten feet below the bottom tier of seats. Sebek was always
hungry, and unusually active whenever his feeding time drew near. The
jewel-studded gold rings in his ears and nostrils clattered as he reared his
monstrous head from the water, snorting and snapping his jaws, which bristled
with sharp teeth and were large enough to take in a grown man at a single gulp.
Then
Samsu looked over at the two youths who stood on a slab of black stone opposite
him, that hung out over the pool. The white man, whose sole garment was a
ragged piece of jaguar skin, was gazing down into the pool, watching the
movements of the monster with apparent interest, but with no signs of fear. The
yellow prince, who wore the royal red of the House of Kan, stood stiffly erect,
his gaze haughty, fearless. Behind them was a closed door, fitted snugly flush
with the edges of the smooth wall. At a signal from the High Priest, the
polished slab on which they stood would tilt straight downward.
Jan
looked up from his examination of the creature in the pool.
"A mighty monster,
this Sebek," he said to Koh.
"And
terrible," replied Koh, speaking softly so he would not be overheard.
"Think of the number of people that slimy monster has eaten in its long
lifetime! And we, too, now go to our destiny by way of that filthy maw. See how
the Black Ones have gathered, like buzzards around the dead! It will soon be
over, friend Jan. Samsu has taken the mallet, and is squinting at the sun. At
the third stroke of the gong, we drop."
"Then
listen to me, and act quickly," replied Jan. "The pool has an inlet
and an outlet. The inlet is at our right, the outlet at our left. Look down at
the outlet now. Fix its position in your mind. Don't wait for the third stroke
of the gong. Dive as soon as you hear the first, straight toward that outlet.
Remain under water and swim into it. The monster has made the pool turbid with
its movements, so you will not be seen. When you are deep in the outlet so no
one can see you, rise and turn on your back. Thus you may breathe in the narrow
air space at the top and swim out to freedom. The monster is too large to follow
you through the opening."
"But
what of you?" questioned Koh. "Will you come with me?"
"Later," replied Jan.
"I
refuse to go if you intend to sacrifice yourself to save me," said Koh.
"Do
as I say!" insisted Jan. "It is the only hope for both of us. Get
ready. The High Priest is about to strike."
Samsu
struck the great gong that hung behind him. It responded with a booming,
metallic note. To the surprise of all present, the bodies of the two youths
flashed outward from the slab in a simultaneous, graceful dive. Before the
second note had boomed forth, both were under water.
As
Jan and Koh had dived in opposite directions, the monster was confused for a
moment, not knowing which way to turn. Koh, in accordance with his instructions,
swam straight for the outlet, remaining beneath the surface. But Jan, who had
dived beneath the monster's belly, came up beside it, and to the intense
amazement of the spectators, grasped one of the bejeweled rings that hung from
the rim of Sebek's short ear. Then he swung himself up on its scaly back, just
behind the head.
This
unexpected trick was greeted with cries of astonishment from the spectators,
and with frantic efforts on the part of the ichthyosaur to unseat its rider.
But as it thrashed about, Jan gripped the immense neck with his thighs and
clung to an earring with each hand.
The
spectators were getting far more entertainment than they had expected.
Presently
the monster dived. In a few moments it emerged riderless, with blood streaming
from its eye sockets, dyeing the water a pale crimson. As the multitude cried
out in horror at this sacrilege, it began swimming blindly in a circle. Of the
two intended victims they could see no trace.
As soon as the great fish-lizard had plunged
beneath the water with Jan, he had put into effect the plan which had come to
him when he saw its great resemblance to an alligator. He had plunged his
fingers into its eyes.
Then
he kicked himself away from the great bulk and swam toward the south wall.
Following this, he explored with his hands until he came to the mouth of the
outlet. Into this he plunged. After a few swift strokes, he rose to the
surface, turned on his back, and drew great sobbing breaths of air into his
aching lungs.
He swam in total darkness for a long time,
despite the fact that the swift current and his own efforts were carrying him
rapidly forward. It was with great relief that he finally saw a faint light
ahead. Increasing his efforts, Jan shot out of the culvert into the sluggish current
of a broad river. Quickly turning over, he gained the bank with half a dozen
stout strokes and, seizing an overhanging root, drew himself up, dripping and
triumphant.
In
front of him the bushes parted and Koh emerged, his finger to his lips. Faintly
Jan heard the sound of voices, the clank of armor and weapons, and the
thunderous tread of great beasts, mingled with their occasional hoarse
bellow-ings. Together, the two fugitives crouched in the shelter of the bushes.
"A
hunting party of the Golden Ones," whispered Koh. "They will soon
pass."
They
crouched there breathlessly while the sounds grew alarmingly louder. Presently,
however, they began to recede, and were lost in the distance.
"They've
gone," said Jan. "And now, friend Koh, our paths lie in different
directions. You will want to get back to Temukan as soon as possible. I go to
Satmu to rescue Chicma."
"Come
to Temukan with me, my friend," pleaded Koh. "You can't hope to
rescue Chicma from the very palace of the Emperor. First there is the river to
cross. The bridges are guarded night and day. You have no boat, and if you swim
there are man-eating monsters in the stream which can't be eluded so easily as
the clumsy Sebek.
"Even if you succeed in reaching the
island, so well guarded are the city walls and the palace itself that you can't
hope to penetrate both without being either killed or captured. And you might
as well be killed outright as captured, because if they take you alive, your
death will only be a matter of a few days. Besides, if Samsu leams of your
capture, he is sure to demand you from his imperial cousin, Mena, so he may
torture and slay you as a punishment for what you have done today. He would
probably give half his wealth to have you in his power right now.
"But
even if you are captured and Samsu does not hear of it, you can't expect a much
kinder fate from the Emperor. He will have you entered in the games, where
human prisoners are forced to fight each other or huge and terrible beasts,
some of which have been brought in from that place of horrors, the pit of mud.
Not one prisoner in a hundred escapes the games alive. Come with me to the city
of my father, the city which I will some day rule. Wealth, power, lands,
slaves—everything you could wish shall be yours."
"I
would like to go with you, my comrade," replied Jan. "But my duty
calls me to Satmu, and that is where I am going."
"Well, then,"
said Koh. "I'll go with you."
"To
meet all those dangers for a cause that does not concern you? I can't permit
itl"
"I owe you my life," replied Koh.
"Surely you will allow me to pay part of the debt! Besides, I will enjoy
the adventure. With my knowledge of the country and people you will have a
much better chance for success, too."
"As you will,"
said Jan, reluctantly.
"Now," said Koh, "if we swim
the river the chances are ten to one that we will not get across alive. If we
should elude the monsters that live in it, we would be seen and captured by
boatmen. But if we search along the bank we are very likely to find a boat
which we can steal under cover of darkness, and which will take us across in
safety. While we are looking for the boat we may find something to eat."
"There
is wisdom in your words," said Jan. "Let us search for food and a
boat."
THE RIVER OF MONSTERS
At
first they were undecided
whether to go up the river to the west, or down the river to the east. Behind
them to the north was the Temple of Set, with its cluster of buildings and its
background of pyramid-shaped mausoleums. The main temple housed the High Priest,
his black-robed assistants and attendants, and his black-armored warriors.
In a
group of smaller buildings lived the tradesmen, artisans, and laborers,
comprising a small village with its market place. And in a tiny cluster of
hovels near the Temple of Sebek were the despised handlers of the dead—the
em-balmers, who spent their lives segregated from other men. They had no
intercourse with others except to receive the bodies intended for the burial
grounds of Set, and to return the embalmed mummies to the temple attendants,
who placed them in the caskets.
The
nobles of Set lived in baronial castles scattered about the country north of
the temple, where peasants toiled in fields and tended flocks. Koh had
explained these things to Jan, so both knew that it would be extremely
dangerous for them to venture north, away from the river.
Across
the river to the south was the magnificent City of Satmu, capital of the
empire. It was in the center of an island about five miles by ten, rimmed by
marshes and a circle of rolling, partly wooded areas. Four immense arch bridges
connected the island with the mainland to the north, south, east and west, each
bridge guarded by a small fortress. The city itself was circular, and about
three miles in diameter. From where they stood on the river bank the two
fugitives could see its north wall, and beyond that its gayly colored roof
tops, its towers, domes and minarets.
Standing in the center of the city, and
dominating the
scene with its great size and magnificence
was the Imperial Palace, its central dome of polished gold reflecting the rays
of the afternoon sun with dazzling brilliance.
Since
the north bridge lay only a mile to the east of them, Koh and Jan decided to go
toward the west. They had not gone far when the jungle-trained Jan suddenly
caught his companion by the arm and cautioned silence. Koh could hear or see
nothing at first, but presently he heard the rustle of small animals through
the undergrowth and the patter of their little feet. Jan had not heard them
much sooner than his friend, but his delicately attuned nostrils had caught
their scent long before the sound was audible.
Motioning
to Koh to remain where he was, Jan swiftly and noiselessly swung himself up
into the tangle of branches and lianas above. In less than a minute he was
directly above a herd of small, spotted animals, none of them much bigger than
a full-grown fox, and bearing a singular resemblance to the horses which he had
seen on some of the plantations that fringed his jungle. Their scent, too, was
singularly like that of horses. He remembered having seen a picture of one of
these creatures in Ramona's book of extinct animals. It was called an eohippus,
and she had told him it was the earliest known ancestor of the horse.
Jan
knew at a glance that the little beasts were not so dangerous as carnivorous
beasts their size might have been, but still they might attack in mass if he
should drop among them. Peccaries had done that several times, wounding him
severely with their sharp teeth and hoofs and forcing him to take refuge in the
trees, despite the fact that he was armed. And now he had no weapons whatever.
But they must have meat.
Singling out his intended victim, Jan
suddenly launched himself through the air with a throaty roar like that of an
attacking puma, a sound which usually paralyzes the prey for an instant. As he
alighted beside the little beast, Jan clutched it around the neck, while the
rest of the herd, squealing with fright, splashed up the bank and plunged into
the undergrowth.
With a deft twist, Jan broke the neck of the
prize. Then he swung it over his shoulder and walked back to where Koh waited
for him.
"Here's our
meat," he said, and proudly displayed his kill.
"But
we have no knife to cut it with, and no fire," objected Koh.
"What of that?" asked Jan. "We
have our teeth and hands. The meat is fresh and good. Cooking would only spoil
it."
He
tore off a foreleg and handed it, still dripping with warm blood, to his
companion. Then he tore off another, and peeling back the hide as an ape peels
a banana, began devouring the tender flesh with gusto. Koh, the delicately
nurtured prince of an ancient civilization, held the gory portion handed him
as if it had been a burning brand, and watched Jan with wonder and a tinge of
horror.
"By
the long red feathers of Kanl" he exclaimed. "I have heard that the
hairy ones, the man-apes who live in the caves, so devour their meat, but never
have I seen nor heard of a man eating it thus."
"And
never," said Jan, "have I tasted such sweet and delicious meat. Try
it."
"I'll
starve first," said Koh, and flung his portion to the ground.
Jan made no reply, but continued eating,
squatting on his haunches and gazing out over the river toward the distant golden
dome where he hoped to find and rescue Chicma. Presently a small sailing vessel
hove into view. It had a single, lateen sail of golden yellow hue, in the
center of which was painted a coat of arms. There were three men in the boat,
and a pile of recently slain water birds.
"The
emperor's fowlers," whispered Koh. "That is one of the boats that
supplies the imperial table with the birds that inhabit the marshes."
"How
do they kill them?" asked Jan, seeing no weapons in evidence.
"With
throwing sticks," replied Koh. "See, each man has a small pile of
curved sticks beside him. I have heard that the emperor himself sometimes hunts
thus, for the sport of the thing."
As
Koh watched Jan, eating with apparent relish, his hunger increased. Finally it
overcame his scruples, and he picked up the leg which he had cast away so
disdainfully. Following Jan's example, he first peeled back a portion of the
skin. Then he shut his eyes, and tearing off a bite, quickly chewed and
swallowed it. Much to his surprise, he really liked it.
By
this time Jan had devoured most of the meat on his portion, and was gnawing the
gristly parts of the joints, which he swallowed with relish. Then he cracked
the bones between his strong teeth and ate the marrow for desert. These things
he had learned to do by watching the carnivores of the jungle, and having once
tried them, had found them to his liking.
Having
satisfied his hunger, Jan went down to the river to wash his face and hands,
and to drink. Then he returned, and with that feeling of contentment which
follows a satisfying and tasty meal, lay down to doze in the speckled shade
and to wait for Koh to finish. For the first time since his capture by the
black-robes, life was once more worth living.
Koh was not long about finishing his meal.
When he had washed and drunk at the river, Jan sprang to his feet and slung the
remains of his kill over his shoulder. They started off along the river bank to
the west.
The
sloping, jungle-draped shore gradually gave way to a steeper and more rocky
formation, where the vegetation, except for a narrow fringe of willows and
oleanders at the water's edge, was quite sparse. Soon they were picking their
way among fallen boulders and rock fragments at the base of a steep bluff.
Suddenly
Jan, who was in the lead, stopped and sniffed the air apprehensively. Koh came
to a halt behind him, peering around his shoulder in an attempt to leam the
cause for his uneasiness.
But
the cause announced itself with unexpected and terrifying suddenness. For,
with a terrific roar that rolled across the river valley, a great shaggy
creature crept from a cave mouth about ten feet above Jan's head, and with its
claws aspread and white teeth gleaming, tensed to launch its mighty bulk
through the air straight for the startled youths.
MAN-HUNT
The
morning after his
arrival at the hacienda, Dr. Bracken was astir bright and early. After drinking
a cup of coffee and declining all items of breakfast which the obsequious
butler suggested, he lighted a black stogie and strolled outdoors. The sun was
rising with a blaze of glory, swiftly dissipating the mists that hung over the
river, and promising an exceptionally warm day.
As the doctor made his way toward the huts
where his Indians were quartered, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing
on the dock and gazing out over the river—Captain Santos. He immediately turned
his steps in that direction.
Santos
looked around as a board creaked beneath the doctor's tread.
"Ah,
good morning, captain!" greeted the doctor. "Up early, I see."
"Si.
Eet was no use to stay in
bed. I could not sleep wan weenk all night. I 'ave fall'een love to beat hal'.
I can't sleep, I can't eat, for theenk about that keed."
"The
best thing you can do," said the doctor, "is to snap out of it muy pronto, and work with me. Now—how many of our Indians
can we trust with this work, provided they are well paid?"
Santos grinned. "We
can trust any of them—eef well paid."
"Then
here's the plan: We have thirty Indians, all told. I gather that this wild boy
is somewhere in the jungles to the south of here. I think I know where to find
him and how to capture him. After he is caught, I must have a place to keep him
until 1 am ready to bring him here.
"So
we'll split into three searching parties. We'll allot ten men to Trevor, and
let him go to the north, where he'll be quite sure not to find Jan. You will
take ten men and head east, while I go south with the other ten. Instead of con
tínuing east, however, you will circle southward
until you strike my trail. I'll wait for you at my first camp. Then I'll show
you where I want you to build my little prison. We'll make a secret base camp
on the spot, and we'll take Jan there."
"Your plans, señor, are good for your own ends. What about mine?"
"I
was coming to that. Once we get Jan we'll see that a message from him reaches
the girl, asking her to meet him at a certain place. She'll go. We'll have two
Indians there to persuade her to go the rest of the way—to our camp. If
something goes wrong with our plans, we'll kill the Indians for attempted
abduction. Their comrades will not know they have been paid to do this work,
and dead men tell no tales."
"Señor," said Santos, admiringly, "you 'ave wan damn' good head. What you say, I
do."
"Good!
Get your three parties organized, and I'll go and fix things with Trevor."
Dr.
Bracken found the Trevors breakfasting with the don and doña. He outlined his plan to them, and all were in
hearty accord with it. Don Fernando offered to take ten of his own men and
search the country to the west, across the river, though Jan had never been
known to hunt in that part of the jungle, and that was agreed upon.
By
ten o'clock the four bands were ready to march. Farewells were being said. The
two women were saying goodby to their husbands, while the doctor and Ramona stood a little way off.
Suddenly, to Dr. Bracken's surprise, she
turned to him and said in a low voice:
"I'll tell you something, doctor, if you
will promise not to tell anyone."
"Eh? Of course I'll promise, señorita."
She
came closer. "It's about Jan. I believe I can tell you where to find him.
You see, my father and mother don't know that he came to see me many times
after he saved me from the puma. But I do so want you to find him and bring him
back!"
"I'll find him, never fear,"
replied the doctor, "even if I have to devote my whole life to it. What
was it you were
going to say?"
"He told me," said Ramona,
"that he lived in a tree-hut, four days' journey to the south. It is
beside a deep pool that is beneath a waterfall. Your chimpanzee is there, also.
That is all I know, but it may help."
"It will help a lot," the doctor
assured her, "and I am deeply grateful to you for confiding in me. You may
rest assured that your confidence has not been misplaced. And now the others
are ready, so I will say goodby."
The
doctor smiled grimly to himself as he led his band of Indians away. This was
going to be easier than he had anticipated. In one of his packs was a case of
hypodermic needle cartridges, such as he had used for capturing wild animals in
Africa. After finding Jan's tree, all he would need to do would be to camp near
it, out of sight, and wait for the young man to appear. A "hypo"
bullet in the arm or leg would put him to sleep for several hours. When he awakened
he would be in the doctor's power.
As
for abducting Ramona, Dr. Bracken had no intention of carrying out this part of
the bargain with his confederates. He could easily dispose of Santos in the
jungle, and return to the hacienda with the report that the captain had been
killed by a native's blow-gun dart.
The
doctor was in an excellent humor when, about an hour before sunset, he bade his
Indians halt and make camp. He had finished his evening meal and lighted a
stogie when Santos and his Indians marched into camp.
The
two bands camped together that night, and together went forward on the
following day, and for two days thereafter. Then, as night was drawing near,
Dr. Bracken heard the roar of a waterfall. Bidding the Indians stop where they
were and make camp, he took Santos forward with him. Before he left, he loaded
his rifle with a hypo cartridge and ordered the captain to do the same.
They
located the waterfall about a half mile away. Looking upward, the doctor, with
a grin of triumph, saw Jan's tree house.
"Wait here and keep out of sight,"
ordered the doctor,
"while
I go forward to investigate. If the man or the ape shows up, shoot for an arm
or leg."
He
handed the captain several extra hypo cartridges and walked over beneath Jan's
tree. Beneath it he found many nutshells, the dried remains of orange,
pineapple and banana skins, and a number of gnawed bones. The appearance of
these remains convinced him that neither Jan nor the ape had been in the tree
for several months.
He
accordingly laid his rifle on the grass, and climbed the tree. Perspiring in
every pore and breathing heavily, he presently reached the lowest limb and drew
himself up on it.
A single glance into the interior of the hut
convinced him that it had not been used for some time. With great curiosity,
he examined Jan's collection of native weapons, ornaments, clothing and hides.
Careful woodsman that he was, he looked also for evidence that would convince
him beyond any doubt that this was Jan's hut. With the aid of his flash light
he found it, clinging to the bark of the tree trunk-chimpanzee hair, auburn
hair, and the hair rubbed from the jaguar skin garments with which Bomo had
clothed both of them.
He
was about to leave when he noticed something else— a piece of notebook paper
projecting from beneath a badly cured jaguar skin. Quickly lifting the pelt, he
saw many more pieces of paper and a stubby, much-chewed pencil. The papers were
covered with pencil drawings, crude but showing marks of talent, and with much
childish printing, all in capital letters. In it he found many names and
descriptions of animals, both prehistoric and existing, evidently copied from
natural histories. He also found the sentence written over and over: "Jan
likes Ramona."
Pocketing
one of the papers and replacing the skin over the others, the doctor, quite
satisfied with his discoveries, climbed down the tree once more. Picking up his
rifle, he walked over to where Santos awaited him.
"I've
found his lair," he said. "Some day, if he is alive, he is sure to
return to it. We'll build a blind, here at the edge of the jungle, and post a
good marksman in it night and day, with a rifle and plenty of hypo cartridges.
While we're waiting for the lad to return we can be building our cell and our
permanent camp."
"You are sure this ees the right place?"
"Positive.
Look here." The doctor extracted the folded note paper from his pocket and
handed it to Santos.
"Sol What ees this? A beeg homp-backed lizard weeth teeth on his back and horns on his
tail. 'Stegosaurus,' eet say onderneath."
"A prehistoric reptile," said the
doctor. "Jan must have copied it from one of Ramona's books."
"Mil
demonios! You theenk he steal her book? Eet say here,
too, 'Jan likes Ramona.'
Carrambal I geeve him a real bullet if I catch
him fool around herl"
"If you give him anything but a hypo
bullet before I'm through with him, it will be just too bad for you,"
warned the doctor, snatching the paper from his hand. "When I have
finished with him you can chop him in little pieces, for all I care, but not
before. Sabe?"
"Si, señor, I onderstand. But after that he better look out, I tal' you."
Darkness came on with the suddenness common
to the tropics just as they got to camp, so nothing more could be done that
day.
Early
the next morning the doctor left minute instructions with Santos for the
construction of the jail cell and permanent camp, and took two Indians with
him to build the blind near the tree-hut.
Having finished the blind, the doctor left
the two Indians on guard there, promising to send two more that night to
relieve them. Each was armed with a rifle containing a hypo cartridge, and
ordered to shoot only for the arm or leg.
A
week later the permanent camp was completed. There was a cabin for the doctor
and Santos, in one end of which a small room was partitioned off by means of
stout wooden bars. This, the doctor called his cárcel, or jail, and it was here that he intended to
imprison Jan until he should be ready to take part in the terrible climax to
his revenge which he head planned and toward which end his life, since the
birth of the boy, had been devoted with a fervor worthy of a better cause.
There was also a bunk house and cook shack
for the Indians.
But
while all this was taking place, Santos was doing a certain amount of planning
in the furtherance of his own ends. It was not necessary, he thought, to
capture Jan in order to entice Ramona away from the hacienda. This could
easily be done by sending her a short note imitating Jan's writing.
Without
broaching his plan to the doctor, whom he knew would frown on it because it
might interfere with his own scheme, Santos took two of his Indians into his
confidence, offering each an immense sum of money for his part in the crime.
Soon it would be necessary to send some one back to the hacienda for supplies,
and when this time came he meant to detail his two accomplices for the work.
XXI
FORBIDDEN GROUND
At
the thunderous roar
of the beast just above their heads, about to spring, Jan and Koh both leaped
forward as if propelled by a powerful springboard, and ran as fast as they
could. There was the thud of an immense body on the spot they had just vacated,
followed by the gallop of huge pads and the rattle of long claws on the stones.
They
had not gone far when Jan knew, by the increasing proximity of the sounds from
behind, that the great beast was rapidly gaining on them. He threw a quick
glance over his shoulder, and recognized it instandy from a picture he had seen
in Ramona's book—a giant cave bear.
Knowing
that further flight was useless, and that unarmed as he was he would be quickly
pulled down and devoured, he decided to stake everything on the chance that he
might be able to outwit this terrible enemy. Suddenly halting in his tracks, he
turned and faced his pursuer.
The bear instantly came to a sliding halt,
alert for a trap or ambush. When it appeared to have satisfied itself that no
hunters lurked nearby, and that it was confronted only by a single unarmed
man—for Koh had continued his running, not knowing that Jan had stopped—it
reared up on its hind legs, head and shoulders taller than a tall man, and advanced,
roaring thunderously.
Jan
raised the carcass of the little eohippus over his head, then hurled it
straight at the oncoming beast. It just grazed one furry ear and alighted some
ten feet behind the bear. . But in the instant of its passing the monster had
got a whiff of its favorite food, the elusive but toothsome little dawn horse.
Suddenly
dropping to all fours, the bear turned and started toward the carcass. Jan took
advantage of this by adding to the distance between himself and the monster.
The beast heard him and swung about again, undecided whether to take the game
already killed or pursue that which was still alive.
But
the bear was not the only carnivore in the vicinity that had scented freshly
killed eohippus. A slinking, dog-like beast came trotting down the trail,
sniffing hungrily, and keeping a wary eye on the bear. The latter did not hear
it until it loosened a small stone. Then it swung about with a snarl.
The
presence of the new brute, which Jan recognized as a hyaenodon, decided the
issue. With a fierce roar of rage, the bear sprang for the intruder just as it
was about to seize the prize. The hyaenodon leaped back out of reach of the
great, flailing claws, and squatted on its haunches. It could not hope to get a
full meal now, but it would wait with doglike patience until the bear had
finished, hoping that the lordly beast might leave a few edible scraps.
Jan
did not wait to see more, but hurried on after his companion. He found Koh
coming toward him a few hundred feet down the trail.
"I
missed you," said the prince, "and so came back, fearing the bear
had caught you."
"There is still danger," said Jan. "I gave it the
eohippus,
but that will only be a mouthful for such a big brute.
Come on." *
They set off at a stiff trot, which either of
the youths was capable of keeping up for hours. Presently Koh stopped and
caught his companion's arm.
"Look!" he cried,
excitedly. "A boat!"
The sun was dropping behind the tree-clothed
river bluffs as they hurried down the bank to examine their prize. It was only
a crude dugout canoe with one paddle and a barbed, three-pronged fishing spear
lying in the bottom. But to these two it was as welcome as the most luxurious
and palatial yacht.
"Get in the other
end," said Koh. "I'll push off."
Jan
did as he was bidden. He had had no experience with canoes except as a
passenger, and bowed to his friend's superior knowledge and skill.
Koh
lifted the anchor, a stone with a rope around it, into the boat. Then he pushed
off, scrambled aboard, and seized the paddle.
He
had not taken two strokes when there came an angry shout from the river bank. A
bearded, sun-bronzed white man, naked save for breech-clout and sandals, ran
down to the water's edge and launched a long spear at them. It flew high, but
Jan stood up and caught it.
"Come
back, thieves!" shouted the man on the bank. "Come back, cowards, and
I will kill you with my bare hands!"
Koh was using the paddle with considerable
dexterity.
"Too
bad to take his boat," he said. "Evidently he is a fisherman, and
this is his means of livelihood." He shouted over his shoulder to the
raging man on the bank. "We'll leave your boat on the island for
you—straight across. Come over the bridge and get it."
In
reply, the man hurled after them a choice collection of Satmuan curses. Then
the darkness descended suddenly, and he faded from view.
Koh was an expert with the paddle, and it did
not take him long to reach the opposite shore. The prow grounded among some
rushes, and Jan, leaping out, dragged it up until more than half of the boat
was out of the water. He retained the spear which the bearded man had cast at
him, and Koh followed with the fishing spear.
For some time they splashed through a grassy
marsh. Presently they struck higher ground, and entered a thick, dark wood.
Here were many strange smells and sounds. Great beasts crashed through, the
scents of which were totally unfamiliar to Jan. Weird cries, shrieks, bellows
and roars resounded in the darkness, unlike anything he had ever heard in his
own jungle. These made him cautious, so he progressed but slowly.
Koh
had never been in the jungle at night before, and though he was a brave youth
his nerves were constantly on edge at each new noise. He was following Jan,
holding onto the' butt of his spear, so they would not become separated in the
inky darkness.
There
were mighty, flesh-eating killers abroad in the jungle. No mistake about that.
From time to time they heard the plaintive death cries of helpless creatures
dragged down by carnivores, and the struggles of others.
With
immense relief they emerged from the jungle about midnight. The moon had risen,
and they saw through a ten-foot barricade of heavy posts, set about four inches
apart, a rolling plain covered with short grass. Busily cropping this grass
with their parrot-like beaks, singly and in scattered groups, were several hundred
of the terrible, three-horned mounts of the Satmuans.
One
triceratops grazing near them evidently heard them or caught their scent, for
it lowered its immense head and charged belligerently, clear up to the paling.
There it stopped, snorting and pawing the earth.
"It
looks as if we will have to go around this pasture," said Koh. "I'd
rather go back into that dark jungle than climb in there with those
brutes."
"If
they are so fierce, how is it that the soldiers and hunters can ride
them?" asked Jan.
"They
learn to know their masters and their masters' people," replied Koh.
"They are fighting beasts, you know, ridden by fighting men, and to them
all strangers are enemies. Unless restrained by their riders, they will attack
any strangers they meet. These beasts are quite docile among Satmuans, but
they attack strangers, and will even attack other beasts of their own kind
belonging to strangers."
As they circled the pasture near the paling,
the immense brute inside kept pace with their progress. But presently tiring
of this, or perhaps convinced that they were not going to enter, it left them
with a contemptuous snort, to return to its feeding.
At
last Jan and Koh drew near to a long row of low sheds, near which were a number
of small, round buildings with lights shining from their windows.
"The stables," said Koh, "and
the houses of the keepers."
They
circled once more, this time through a grove of orange trees planted in
straight rows. This brought them up against the northwest wall of the city—a
wall fifty feet high, smooth and unscalable. At intervals of five hundred feet
along this wall were guard towers, in each of which was a sentinel.
"Well,
here we are," whispered Koh. "This is as far as I can guide you. I don't know of any way we can get into the city except
as prisoners."
"There must be some way," said Jan.
"Let us look."
They
circled to the left, keeping to the shadow of the wall so they would not be
seen from above, until they were scarcely a quarter of a mile from the great,
arched north gate. This, Koh assured Jan, had been closed for the night, and
would be guarded by not less than fifty men.
XXII
A PERILOUS VISIT
As they
stood there talking, Jan
took hold of a thick creeper which had grown up the side of the wall, and
pulled it to throw it out of his way. To his surprise, it clung to the wall. He
pulled harder, but it would not budge. Then he stepped away from the wall and
looked upward. Half a dozen creepers like this one had climbed side by side,
almost to the summit.
"Come!" he whispered to Koh.
"Here is a way into the city."
Tearing off a branch of the vine, he made both ends fast to the hunting
spear and slung it over his back that he might have the use of both hands. Koh
did likewise with the fishing spear. Then Jan sprang up the vine with ape-like
agility, and the prince, after waiting until they were about twenty feet apart
in order that their combined weight would not be on the same tendrils at the
same time, followed.
When
he reached the top of the wall, Jan moved with extreme caution. His position
was about halfway between two sentry towers. The sentry on his left was
standing in front of the tower, leaning on his longbow and looking out toward
the bridge. At first he could not see the one on his right, but ■he
presently made out his huddled form leaning against the tower, asleep.
Very
carefully, Jan drew himself up, and flattening, wormed across the edge of the
wall. It was about three feet thick at the upper edge. Just behind it was a row
of terraces, each three feet wide, and with a drop of the same distance to
the next, reaching clear to the ground. He crawled down onto the first terrace,
and unslinging his spear, waited. In a moment he was joined by Koh, and the two
noiselessly descended the terraces until they reached the ground.
The
part of the city in which they found themselves was a residence section of
flat-roofed buildings set closely together, their fronts level with the paved
street. Lights showed in a few of the houses, but most of them were dark,
showing that their occupants had retired.
After
following the wall for some distance, they came to a narrow street, lighted
only by the rays of the moon, and now nearly deserted.
"This street must lead to the
palace," said Koh, "for I have heard that the city is laid out like
the web of a spider, with streets branching out in all directions, but all
centered at the Imperial Palace. The palace, with its gold dome, represents
the sun, and the streets branching out from it, the rays. There are concentric
circles of narrower streets connecting the ray streets."
"Then let us follow
this street," said Jan.
"Dressed
as we are," replied Koh, "that would be an impossibility. The
streets are constantly patrolled and we would be seen and captured."
"And where would we be taken?"
"Probably
to the palace for judgment. Ordinary prisoners would be taken before a
magistrate, but because I am of royal blood and you are a stranger in the
valley we would probably be taken before the emperor, himself."
"After
all," mused Jan, "it would be the easiest way to get there."
"What do you mean?"
"Leave your spear here
and follow me."
Jan
discarded his hunting spear and started down the street. Koh dropped the
fishing spear and followed. The first person they passed wore the garb of a
merchant. He stared at them as if he could not believe his eyes, but they
walked on, ignoring him.
They
saw two more men approaching. Moonlight glinted from their polished armor and
the tips of their spears,
"The patrol!"
whispered Koh.
"Good!" replied
Jan.
He
swaggered straight toward the oncoming figures. Koh followed his example. Soon
the clank of armor and weapons was audible. It grew louder. Jan thought the two
would pass them by, unnoticed, but suddenly as they were abreast, one turned.
"Halt!" he
commanded.
Jan
and Koh stopped in their tracks. The two in armor sauntered over, peering at
them.
"A
strange pair," said the first, staring beneath his raised visor.
"By the long slim beak of Tehuti!"
exclaimed the other. "A savage dressed in the skin of an animal!"
"And
this other!" said the first. "Pierce me through, if he wears not the
scarlet of the royal house of Kan! Who are you two?" he demanded.
"I am Koh of Temukan," said the
prince.
"And I am Jan."
"Jan of where? Of what?"
The youth hesitated for a moment.
"Jan of the jungle," he replied.
"Of
the jungle? You look the part. Where are you going?" "We were on our
way to the palace."
"To the palacel You hear him, Batau?
They were going to the palace—a jungle savage and a yellow prince! No doubt
they intended calling on his imperial majesty, the emperor."
"No
doubt, Pebek. They are visiting royalty—a prince of Temukan and a prince of the
jungle. It would be discourteous to let them go unattended."
"They shpuld have a guard of honor. We
will go with them to the palace." Pebek bowed ironically to the two
youths. "You will permit us to escort you. Proceed."
The
two youths moved forward, each with a spear point at his back.
On their way to the palace they met a few
straggling townsmen. These stared, but made no comment. Soon they stood before
the great arched gate of the palace grounds. Here were fully fifty
golden-armored warriors on guard. Jan began to realize the magnitude of the
task he had undertaken.
At a word from their captors the gates swung
open, and they were allowed to pass.
"This place is easier gotten into than
out of," muttered Koh.
"So it seems," replied Jan,
"but we are not ready to leave, yet."
"Silence
you two," growled Batau, and prodded Jan with his spear point.
With the pain of that wound, Jan's carefully
thought out plan was forgotten. It transformed him, in an instant, to a raging jungle creature.
He
whirled with a snarl of rage and, seizing the shaft of the spear, snapped it
off. Balancing it for a moment, he hurled the resulting three-foot javelin with
all his might. It struck Batau in the left eye and entered his brain, killing
him instantly.
Pebek
had attempted to come to the rescue of his comrade, but he had immediately
been set upon by Koh. His movements impeded by the weight of his armor, the
warrior was far too slow for his agile adversary. He had dropped his long
spear, useless at such close quarters, and was drawing his sword, when Koh
snatched his dagger from his belt and struck for his neck, just above the rim
of his breast plate.
The
slim blade went home to the jugular, and Pebek, after staggering blindly for a
moment, slumped to the ground, blood oozing from between the joints of his
armor.
"Quick!"
pasted Koh. "Let us get them out of sight. If they are discovered the
whole palace guard will be after us."
They
swiftly dragged the two fallen warriors into the shrubbery that bordered the
path. Then they returned and picked up the weapons that had been dropped,
returning into the shrubbery with these.
Scarcely had they reached their place of
concealment when they heard the march of approaching warriors.
"They heard, and are after us,"
said Jan. ""I think
not," replied Koh. "It is probably a squad from the palace to relieve
the watch at the gate. They keep step, and are not hurrying. But when they
reach the gate, look out."
Koh's
surmise was proved correct, when a few moments later fifty spear-men filed
past, looking neither to the right nor left. As soon as they had passed, each
youth armed himself with the sword and dagger of his fallen foe-man. Then they
hurried away toward the palace.
"How
do you expect to find Chicma in that great building?" asked Koh, as they
stood in a little clump of tall trees, looking up at the massive structure with
its towers, turrets and balconies.
"By
her scent, if she is there," replied Jan. He was looking up at the tall
tree beneath which they were standing. Its branches brushed the railing of an
upper balcony.
At
this moment there came a shout from the gate—the sound of armed men running
through the shrubbery.
"Follow
me," said Jan. "I see a way into the palace, where they will least
expect to find us."
He
sprang up into the tree, and climbed rapidly. The prince followed more slowly,
unable to compete with the ape-like agility of his companion. When he reached
the limb that brushed the balcony, Jan swung out on it, caught the railing, and
drew himself up. At the rear of the balcony a hinged window stood open. The
room behind it was in darkness.
Creeping over to the opening, Jan
investigated the room with twitching, sensitive nostrils. His nose told him
that people had been there recently, but that it was unoccupied now. Koh came
silently over the railing.
Excited
shouts came up to them from the ground, cries of rage. The two bodies had been
discovered.
Jan
led the way into the darkened room. At the far end, he saw a faint blur of
light, and went directly toward this. It came from behind a heavy curtain which
draped a doorway. Cautiously he moved the curtain a little way. Outside was a
narrow hall, lighted at intervals by lamps hung on wall brackets. The oil
burning in them gave off a mild, sweet aroma that reminded Jan of flowers.
A
quick survey showed him that there was no one in the hall. He stepped out,
followed by Koh, his nostrils twitching as he endeavored to catch Chicma's
scent. The perfume from the lamps confused him.
Presently
he turned to the left and like a hound on a trail, went straight to a door
about fifty feet away. Here he halted, sniffing for a moment, then lifted the
curtain and peered in.
He
saw Chicma, but she was not in a cage, and she was not alone. She was lolling
on a cushioned divan, daintily nibbling on a sweetmeat from a dish piled high
on a taboret beside her. Her ragged jaguar-skin garment was gone. In its place
was a gaudily colored jacket of the softest silk. There was a jewel-studded
gold collar around her neck, and jewels blazed from golden settings on her
finger and toe rings. Beside her stood a slender yellow slave girl, who was
brushing her fur.
Jan turned to Koh.
"Seize
the slave," he whispered. "We'll bind and gag her. Then Chicma can
come away with us."
Together
they rushed in. Koh clapped his hand over the girl's mouth before she could cry
out. Startled by their abrupt entrance, Chicma leaped down from the divan and
started to run. Then she recognized Jan, and stopped.
"What
do you want?" she clucked, in her guttural chimpanzee tongue.
"I've come to take you
away," he said.
"I like it here,"
she replied. "I won't go away. You do not need me. You are grown, and can
care for yourself. Go away and don't bother me."
Jan was dumfounded. To think that he had
risked his life needlessly, passed through countless perils to save Chicma from
her captors, only to find that she actually liked her captivity! All this he
could not tell to Chicma. There was no chimpanzee way of expressing it.
"I
will go," he clucked to her. To Koh: "She won't go. We must go
without her. First I'll help you bind the girl."
He
tore a strip of cloth from the curtain. But before he could use it, the girl
suddenly wrenched her mouth free from Koh's hand, and shrieked loudly.
There
was an answering shout from the hallway, the clank of armored men running.
"No use to bind her
now," said Jan. "Come."
He
dashed out the window, onto the balcony. Koh flung the girl from him and
followed, just as a host of warriors rushed into the room. One of the guards,
searching the the shrubbery beneath, spied the two figures on the balcony and
shouting to his fellows, pointed upward.
The
nearest tree stood about twenty feet from the balcony. Jan stepped up on the
rail, and shouting, "Follow me!" plunged across the dizzy height. For
him it was not much of a jump. Many times he had leaped this far, from tree to
tree, in the jungle. His sure hands gripped the lowest branch, clung there. But
the branch cracked, sagged, then tore loose from the trunk. Jan's body swung
out to the horizontal and dropped. He struck on his back with terrific force.
Then came oblivion.
XXIII
THE LOTUS MARK
In
her boudoir on the second
floor of the Suarez hacienda, Doña Isabella
was talking with Georgia Trevor. The hour of the siesta was past and a servant
had just brought tea.
Ramona, accompanied
by her duenna, had gone quietly to the patio to read a book.
Jan
had not been found. After two months in the jungle Dr. Bracken had sent word
that he had set up a base camp far to the south, and that he had sent a
messenger to Captain Santos, instructing him to build a similar camp to the
east. He had suggested- that the same thing be done to the north and west, thus
keeping a large area of the jungle under constant watch. Harry Trevor, trusting
him implicitly, had immediately accepted the plan. Both he and Don Fernando were
absent, establishing the new base camps, but were expected to return that day,
as Ramona was to leave for school early the following
morning.
Georgia
Trevor stirred her tea thoughtfully. "Ramona seems
quite sad today," she said. "I wonder what can be wrong with her? Do
you think it is because her vacation has ended and she must leave for the
States tomorrow?"
The doña put down her cup. "That may have something to do with it," she
answered. "But she has assured me many times that she likes school. There
is something wrong with Ramona, some
undercurrent I can't fathom. At the beginning of her vacation she was bright
and cheerful, but as the days passed she seemed to grow more and more worried
about something."
"She's still quite young to be away from
home for ten months at a time," suggested Georgia Trevor. "No doubt
she gets homesick. Only seventeen, isn't she?"
"Yes—er—we
think she is. I may as well tell you all about it," said the doña. "Ramona is not our daughter, though we love and
cherish her as our very own."
"I've
noticed that except for her dark eyes and hair she doesn't resemble either you
or Don Fernando. There seems to be something Oriental about her type of beauty,
suggesting a princess of ancient Babylon or a vestal virgin from some temple of
Isis."
"It
may be," said the doña, "that
your intuition is nearer the truth than you realize. I'll show you
something."
She
opened a tiny wall safe, and from one of its trays removed a large brass key.
With this she unlocked the lid of a massive brass-bound chest. In the bottom of
the chest was a black lacquered basket, its lid inscribed in white, red and
yellow, with characters greatly resembling Egyptian hieroglyphics. As if it
were a fragile sacred relic, the doña lifted
it reverently and placed it on a table.
"This," said the doña, "is the basket in which we found Ramona, a tiny baby not more than six months old. My
husband had gone out on the river with an Indian servant, for some early
morning fishing. He noticed the basket floating nearby, and was attracted by
the strange characters with which it was covered.
"He lifted the basket into the boat, and
was astounded when he heard strange little mewling sounds coming from it. He
tore off the lid. Lying in the bottom of the basket on a bed of soft wool,
wrapped in a shawl of golden-yellow silk, was a tiny baby girl.
"He
rushed home to me at once, and when I saw the child, I immediately fell in love
with her. She was half starved, showing that she had been floating in the
basket for many hours. She may have traveled that way for a great many miles,
as the current is very swift. We tried to learn who her parents were, and when
we were not able to find out anything about them, we adopted her.
"The
inscriptions on the basket could not be read by any of the Indians we asked,
although for some reason the Indians always seemed to regard them with
superstitious awe.
"About
a year later Sir Henry Westgate, the English archaeologist and explorer,
stopped here on his way into the jungle. He told us he sought traces of
colonists from an ancient civilization that had once existed on a vast
continent in the Pacific.
"My
husband showed him this basket, told him where and how he had found it, and
asked if he could decipher the writing on it. Sir Henry's expression when he
saw that basket reminded me of Galahad, finding the Holy Grail. He said that it
was a historical discovery of vast importance, and that if the people who had
set it adrift could be located, the riddle of the lost continents of Mu,
Atlantis and Lemuria and the origins of all ancient civilizations and cultures
could be solved. Here is his translation."
From the bottom of the basket she took a
sheet of paper, and read aloud:
'To
thee, mighty Hepr, Great God of the Waters, enthroned in eternal power and
glory upon the coils of the great serpent, between thy sentinels the twin
mountains Qer-Hapi and Mu-Hapi, Samsu, humble slave of thy beloved son, Set,,
consigneth this daughter of Re, that thou mayest deal with her in thy great
wisdom, according to thy omnipotent will, so powerful that went thou to relax
it for but an instant, the gods would fall down headlong and all men would perish.'
"
"What can it
mean?" asked Georgia Trevor, tensely.
"According
to Sir Henry," replied the doña, "it
means that a certain Samsu, High Priest of Set, or Saturn, for some reason set
the child adrift upon the water, hoping that she would meet her death. She may
have been his own child, or she may have been the daughter of some other
powerful man. The statement that she is a daughter of Re shows that she is a
royal princess, or daughter of the sun. For the safety of his soul, even though
he desired her death, the High Priest dared not slay a royal personage himself.
So I suppose he managed to put the blame on Hepr, God of Waters, by consigning
her to the river in a basket that would float.
"In the palm of the baby's right hand
was tattooed an open lotus, the sacred flower of Mu. This proved beyond all
doubt that Ramona
was a princess of the blood
imperial, Sir Henry said. If he is correct, Ramona's ancestors were ruling a
mighty civilization while our Cro-Magnon forbears in Europe were living in
caves and wearing animal skins.
"The
remains of every civilization of the past, Sir Henry told us, show the cultural
influence of Mu, the mother continent. Her ships carried adventurers to all
parts of the earth, where they established colonies ruled by the viceroys of
the motherland. But Mu, along with Lemuria was broken up by a great earthquake,
and sank into the ocean.
"An
expedition had set out from the motherland on a good-will tour of Mu's
colonies, led by the Crown Prince, with a retinue of ten thousand men and women
from all walks of life.
"While he was in Egypt the prince
received word of the destruction of the motherland. He set sail for Atlantis,
but in a terrific storm many of his ships were lost. Of his own flagship
nothing was ever heard.
"Sir
Henry was convinced that the prince and a band of his followers had landed
somewhere on the coast of South America. The sight of Ramona's basket convinced
him that he was on the right trail, and that if he would follow this river and
all of its branches to their sources, he would be sure to find the descendants
of the people of Mu. With this intention he led an expedition into the jungle
some sixteen years ago. Since then no word has come from him. Probably he and
his men were killed by savages."
Standing
in the patio beneath the tiny balcony that jutted out from the dona's boudoir,
Ramona waited for Jan. She had waited there every day of her vacation, but now,
the last day, hope had fled.
A
humming bird with iridescent plumage shot past Ramona's head as she sat
beneath the trysting tree, and lighted on a bush, beneath the dona's window.
She put down her book and followed it, to watch it at close range while it
sipped the nectar from the flowers.
Above
the pixie drone of the midget flyer's wings, she suddenly heard her supposed
mother say: "Ramona is not our daughter." Shocked, she had remained
to listen, and had heard the whole story.
Ramona
turned away from the window with eyes brimming, stunned to learn that she was
not a Suarez and that the don and dona, whom she had loved as her father and
mother, had merely taken her in, a foundling. Her real parents, it seemed, had
not wanted her—had even desired her death. Otherwise they would not have set
her adrift on the river where the chances were a hundred to one that she would
perish.
As she walked down the path toward her tree,
an Indian entered the patio. He glanced cautiously about as if fearful of being
seen, then came toward her. Bowing low, he handed the girl a folded slip of
paper.
"Jan send you this," he said
softly, with a wary glance in the direction of the snoring duenna. "I wait
for you outside gate."
With
trembling, eager fingers, Ramona unfolded
the little missive, while the Indian slunk away. She instantly recognized the
large, crudely made capital letters of Jan's writing.
RAMONA:
I AM BADLY HURT. WANT TO
SEE YOU. THE INDIAN WILL SHOW THE WAY. WILL YOU COME?
JAN.
"Would she go? She had promised her
father that she would never leave the patio, unguarded. No, not her father. Don
Fernando had deceived her about that, as had the doña. Yet a promise was a promise, for all that,
and she had never broken her word.
For
a moment she stood there, a prey to conflicting emotions. But only for a
moment. This was an emergency. Jan was wounded—perhaps dying. And he wanted to
see her —needed her. That was enough. Promise or no promise, she must go.
As she passed the arbor, the corpulent Señora Soledade stirred uneasily, ceased her snoring
for a moment, and seemed about to awaken. Ramona ran forward on tiptoes and quietly opened the
gate. Stepping through she closed it soundlessly. Over among the young rubber
trees the Indian stood with folded arms, waiting.
When
he saw her coming, the savage started off toward the jungle. Once in its
depths, he stopped until she came up.
"How far?" she asked.
"Only a little
way," he answered. "I show you, quick."
At
first he led her straight south, but presently he began turning toward the
southeast. As they penetrated deeper and deeper into the jungle, Ramona began to grow apprehensive. She recalled that
Jan had told her all Indians were his enemies. If this were the case, she
wondered how it would be possible for him to employ an Indian as a messenger.
Then,
to add to her fears, she began to hear sounds behind her, as if someone or
something were dogging her footsteps. She ran up close to her guide—touched him
on the shoulder.
"Something is following us," she said.
"I heard it. It may be a puma or a jaguar. I'm afraid."
"I
go look," said the savage, and walked back for a little way. Returning
presently, he said: "Nothing follow. No be 'fraid."
He proceeded as before, but it was not long
until the girl heard a twig snap behind her. She cast a quick glance over her
shoulder, then screamed at the top of her voice as she saw a strange savage
coming stealthily toward her, carrying a small coil of rope. Like a charging
panther, the native sprang forward. She turned to run, but the Indian who had
lured her into the jungle stopped her before she was fairly started. Then
despite her cries and struggles, he held her while the other bound her hands
and gagged her.
Then
someone other than Jan had written the note! But who? And how could any one
imitate his lettering so well?
Suddenly
they came to a tiny clearing, walled in on all sides by tangled, matted
vegetation. In the middle of the clearing was a small, newly built hut.
Standing
in front of the hut, smoking a cigarette, was Captain Santos, a grin of triumph
on his dark features. He dropped the butt, ground it beneath his heel, and
slowly exhaled the blue-white smoke through his nostrils as the two Indians
came up with their beautiful young captive.
"Unbind her," he
commanded in Spanish.
While
they loosed the bonds that held her wrists, the captain removed her gag.
"Now
go! Vamos! Get the supplies from the hacienda and hurry
back to camp. I'll see you there—later."
Ramona
faced him bravely, trying to hide the horrible fear that clutched at her heart.
"What
is the meaning of this, Captain Santos?" she demanded. "Where is
Jan?"
"Jan,"
he replied, brutally seizing her wrists, "is dead. And since you ask, it
means, my little one, that you are mine."
She
tried to pull away, but the powerful fingers held her like steel bands. She
kicked, bit and screamed, but Santos only laughed.
"Cry out all you like," he said.
"It will amuse the monkeys and parrots." Then he dragged her into
the dark interior of the hut.
XXIV
CAGED
When
Jan became conscious after his fall from the
tree, he was lying on a smooth stone floor. He sat up, and numerous twinges of
pain shot through the muscles of his back.
Then
he remembered his leap from the balcony of the Imperial Palace, the broken tree
limb, and the crash that brought oblivion.
He
got to his feet unsteadily and looked about. He was in a narrow cell, on all
sides of which were stout iron bars. The air was heavy with the odors of
sweating men and animals. In a cell on his right was a hairy man-monster like
the ones that had attacked him when he first entered the valley. This husky
creature was squatting in a corner, busily scratching himself. Jan could see
other hairy monsters squatting in the cells beyond.
In
the cell on Jan's left still another form paced back and forth. There were a
few scattered patches of hair on his body, but the rest was quite naked and as
white as Jan's own skin. His beard and the hair on his head were much longer
than those of the hairy-bodied creatures at the right, both hanging below his
waist, and were dark brown, streaked with gray. He stood more erect than these
others, and was not nearly so heavy or muscular.
There
were two doors to each cell. One led to a passageway in the rear, and the
other to a circular arena of white sand about an eighth of a mile in diameter.
Looking across this arena, and to the right and left, Jan could see hundreds of
other cells. Those nearest him housed yellow men, white men, and hairy men. But
in those farther away were caged many strange and terrible-looking creatures.
Some, such as the saber-toothed tigers, cave bears and hyaenodons were familiar
to him. But there were many others—giant beasts, birds, and reptiles—he had
never seen or heard of before.
Presently
a great commotion started among the men, beast-men, and beasts. Amid a
deafening medley of roars, growls, shrieks, shouts and howls came a sound of
clanging gates. Then Jan saw the reason. It was feeding time.
He
could see the attendants coming along the passageway. One would move a lever,
raising a gate a little way, while the other pushed food beneath it. Then the
gate would clang back into place and the two would move on to the next cage
while a third, following them, filled the water pans.
Like
the beast-men on one side of him and the wild-looking white man on the other,
Jan was fed raw meat. He was hungry, and seized it eagerly. It proved to be the
flesh of some creature unfamiliar to him, but quite palatable and satisfying.
After eating he drank, and lay down on his belly to ease his bruised and aching
back. With his head cradled in his aims, he soon fell asleep.
Some
time later he awakened with a start. Something was prodding his shoulder. It
was the end of a long pole thrust through the bars by a white man who wore a
yellow tunic and sandals. He withdrew the pole as Jan scrambled to his feet and
faced him.
"Do you speak the
language of men, wild one?" he asked.
"When it pleases
me," replied Jan defiantly.
The fellow grinned.
"It will do you no good to be surly with
me," he said. "I am only here to help you. The games will start soon,
and if you have the intelligence to listen and heed, so much the better for
you."
"The games!" exclaimed Jan.
Then
he remembered what Koh had said. If they were captured they would probably be
sentenced to the games— to battle in the arena with men and monsters, usually
against great odds. "Is Prince Koh here?" he asked.
"The
prince is in the section with the other prisoners from Temukan," was the
reply. "But heed me now, for I may not spend much time with you." He
unrolled a scroll and glanced at it.
"You
have been sentenced to stand trial by combat, first with a man, second with a
bird, and third with a beast. If you kill the man, that will of course save
your life. But if you subdue him without killing him, he will become your
slave. If you kill or o.vercome the bird, you will have the right to ask and be
granted a boon by the Emperor. And if you overcome or kill the beast, you will
be granted your life and freedom.
"In
case you won all three fights, which has never been done, you would go and
stand before the golden pavilion in the south, where the Emperor and Empress
will be enthroned. You would raise your hand in salute, thus"—raising his
right hand with the palm forward—"whereupon the Emperor would give you
your freedom."
Examining
the scroll once more, the man passed on to the next cage—the one occupied by
the bearded white savage.
"What about you, wild
one? Can you talk?" he asked.
The
bearded man looked at him blankly. Then he began a series of guttural grunts
and barks very much like the language of the chimpanzees.
"Ha!
So you speak like the hairy ones. Well, no man can understand such noises, so I
cannot instruct you."
"I
can tell you what he says," volunteered Jan. "He asks what you want.
Shall I interpret for you?"
"No
use," said the yellow-clad one. "He would not have the intelligence
to understand."
As the sun approached noon, the attitude of
the multitude of spectators in the amphitheater grew tense. Already Samsu, High
Priest of Set, had taken his place on the north. He was surrounded by his
black-clothed nobles with their ladies, black-armored guards, and black-robed
priests.
The
seat of honor on the west was occupied by Teta, High Priest of Asar. His
impressive title and name were Ncter Ka Aser, Teta, Sa Re, or Holy Soul of
Isiris, Son of the Sun. Like Samsu, he was a cousin of the Emperor. Surrounding
Teta were his white-cloaked nobles and their families, white-armored guards,
and white-robed priests.
In the seat of honor on the east side sat
Pilatre, High Priestess of Aset. Her title—Neter Urt en Aset, Pilatre, Sat
Re—meant Divine Great Lady of Isis, Pilatre, Daughter of the Sun. She was
Teta's daughter. Pilatre was attired in light blue, and her fierce Amazon
guards wore armor lacquered a cerulean shade, while her ladies and her comely
vestal virgins wore diaphanous garments of the same azure tint.
The
general assembly was a motley jumble of color. Each class dressed
according to its trade, profession or occupation, so far as cut and quality of
garments went, but with no restrictions as to color, except that no person not
definitely allied with one of the four great religious orders might be
completely clad in the color of that order. Color combinations of every kind
were permissible, and were used to such an extent that a kaleidoscopic effect
was produced wherever the people congregated.
Vendors
of sweetmeats, nuts, fruits and chocolatl, a beverage made from a mixture of chocolate
and honey, moved through the crowds, noisily crying their wares. Hawkers of
cheap jewelry, gewgaws, trinkets and charms scrambled from tier to tier,
shouting the merits of their merchandise. Others sold scrolls of thin papyrus
on which a program of the day's events was inscribed in curious hieroglyphic
characters.
But
the bedlam of sound was suddenly hushed as there came a blare of trumpets from
the south. Then, from beneath the stand supporting the golden pavilion, a gold-armored herald dashed out into the arena, mounted on a fierce three-horned steed.
"The Emperor and Empress cornel" he
cried. "Salute your rulers!"
In an instant, every man, woman and child,
from high priest and great noble down to the lowliest slave, bowed the knee.
Slowly, majestically, the royal couple came through the arched doorway beside
the great golden throne. With quiet dignity they took their seats.
A great cry went up from
the crowd:
"To Mena and Nefertrel Life! Strength!
Health!"
Having
paid this tribute to their exalted rulers, the people resumed their seats.
Surrounded by his gold-armored warriors, his
nobles and their ladies, and the yellow-robed priests of Re, Mena watched a
small sundial on a pedestal before him. It was the custom to begin the games
just as the sun reached the meridian, in order that Re, the Sun God, might look
auspiciously down upon them from his great central throne in the heavens.
When
the shadow on the dial pointed directly north, Mena raised his scepter. There
was a clash of cymbals, a roll of drums, and a blare of trumpets. The games
were officially opened.
A mounted herald dashed
into the arena and announced:
"His
Imperial Majesty, Mena, Son of Re, has commanded that the first event offered
for your entertainment today shall be the triple trial for life of the fierce
young wild man known as Jan of the Jungle.
"As
his life is thrice forfeit, so thrice must he defend it. First was it forfeit
to Set, when he blinded the Sebek and escaped from the temple. For this offense
he shall do battle with a man. Second, his life is forfeit to the State, as he
slew one of her soldiers. For this offense, if he survive the first, he shall
do battle with a bird.
"Third,
his life is forfeit to the great god Re, because he entered by force the
habitation of his High Priest, the Imperial Palace. For this offense, if he
survive the other two ordeals, he shall fight a beast. It is the decree of the
Emperor that if he survive all three, then will he have earned life and
freedom."
Standing
with face pressed against the bars of his cell, Jan listened to the
announcement of the herald. He saw the riders disappear through the gate
beneath the imperial throne. Then the door in the front of his cell was raised.
The end of a long pole prodded him in the back, and a gruff voice called,
"Out with you!"
With
a snarl, Jan turned to seize the pole, but it was snatched away. The attendant
who held it—behind the bars —then dropped the pole and took up a long trident.
Jan
saw that sooner or later he must enter the arena. As well do it peacefully as
to remain here and receive wounds that might cripple him. He walked out, and
the door clanged into place behind him.
For a moment he stood there undecided where
to go or what to do. He had heard it ordained that he must fight a man, yet he
was alone in the arena. Perplexed, he started to walk across the white sand. He
had reached a point opposite the golden throne of Mena when he heard a clang
behind him. Turning, he saw a long-bearded, naked man coming toward him. It was
the wild-looking white man who had been confined in the cell next to his.
The
man walked forward into the arena, apparently as much at sea as Jan about what
he was supposed to do. The youth waited until he came up.
"What
do they want us to do?" barked the other in a queer man-ape language.
"To
fight, I believe," replied Jan in the same guttural tongue.
At
this moment, a gold-armored rider dashed through the gate beneath the throne.
Riding up between the two, he threw a heavy knotted club at the feet of each.
Then he withdrew.
"Ah,
this is better!" exclaimed the bearded man, catching up his club. "We
will not have to fight with teeth and nails."
Jan
picked up his own club. Then he warily watched his opponent, who was coming
toward him, the club held high over his head, as if he would crush Jan to earth
with one blow.
The youth stood his ground. He did not even
raise his own weapon. But when the heavy club descended with terrific force,
Jan was not there. With cat-like quickness he had leaped lightly to one side.
As the bludgeon of his opponent thudded to the sand where he had stood a
moment before, Jan swung his own weapon.
Had it landed squarely it would have crushed
the skull like an eggshell. The blow, however, was only a glancing one. But it
struck with enough force to tear the scalp of the bearded man and knock him
unconscious. He collapsed in a heap.
It had been ridiculously easy. Jan stood
there, leaning on his club, and gazing at his fallen foe. Two armored riders
dashed out. One reined his steed to a halt, dismounted, and threw the limp and
unconscious body over his mount's back in front of the saddle. The other rider
handed Jan a long spear. Then both withdrew.
Over
at his left, Jan heard the clang of a gate. He looked, and gasped in surprise
and awe at sight of the weird and terrifying monstrosity that was trotting
toward him on two legs.
It was a bird fully eight feet tall, with a
crest on its immense head like that of a kingfisher. Its great, eagle-like
beak was large enough and strong enough to pluck off the head of a man at a
single snap, and swallow it like a cherry. Its legs, longer and stronger than
those of a full-grown horse, terminated in immense, sharp clutching talons.
There had been a picture of this bird of prey
standing over its kill in one of Ramona's books. It was called a brontornis, or
thunder bird, and like many of the other strange creatures he had met within
this valley, was supposed to be extinct.
As
the immense bird drew near, it cocked its head to one side for a moment as if
deciding whether or not Jan would be worth while as a food morsel, considering
the risk. It must have made an abrupt decision that he was, for it suddenly
spread its short, stubby wings and charged.
Jan
extended his spear point, and braced his feet to meet the charge, aiming for
the center of the huge, feathery breast.
It
was almost upon him, the spear not an inch from its breast, when it suddenly
swooped, arched its neck, and snapped downward, seizing the shaft of the weapon
in its powerful beak.
Taken
completely by surprise, Jan was swept off his feet as the feathered giant gave
a quick jerk backward in an effort to pluck the spear from his grasp. He hung
on, and the bird, after swinging him far around to the right, suddenly flung
its head the other way.
A
cry went up from the breathlessly watching crowd as the shaft snapped off and
Jan, holding the broken butt, was thrown to the ground.
Dropping
the spear head, the bird leaped for the fallen Jan. Before he could move, it
had pinned him beneath one immense foot, its clutching talons embedded in his
left, shoulder and arm. Then it threw back its head and uttered a loud ringing
cry that momentarily drowned the clamor of the excited onlookers—like a cock
crowing over a vanquished rival, but with a voice more nearly resembling that
of a lion.
Lying beneath the terrific weight of the
feathered giant, with blood gushing from his shoulder and arm where the cruel
talons were embedded, Jan struggled desperately to arise, and futilely beat the
bird with his slender spear shaft.
Having
voiced its cry of victory, the brontornis leisurely bent over to devour its
struggling prey. Jan saw the immense head coming down, straight for his face,
the powerful hooked beak opened wide—and did the only thing left for him to do.
He thrust the splintered end of his spear shaft between the gaping mandible and
down the throat.
With
a peculiar sound which in a smaller bird might have been a squawk, but coming
from this throat was more like a strangled roar, the monster jerked his head up
and shook it, trying to dislodge the shaft. But Jan had thrust with all his
might, and the splintered end was tightly lodged.
After several futile shakes the bird tried,
first with one foot, then the other, to claw the stick from its throat, its
prey momentarily forgotten. But when the second foot lifted, Jan was free, and
quick to take advantage of his freedom.
Leaping
to his feet, he ran to where his heavy club lay. Picking it up, he returned,
and swung it with all his strength against the shin of the leg on which the
monster was standing. Under the force of that blow the bone shattered like
matchwood, and the feathered giant toppled over.
It
was up in an instant, however, on its good leg. Jan swung his club again, and
the bird slumped to the ground, flapping its useless stubs of wings and
squawking thunderously—the spear shaft still protruding from its throat.
Then
Jan directed blow after blow at the huge, crested head. Twice that head lolled
in the sand as if the monster was quite dead, and twice it was reared again,
bruised and bloody, so tenacious of life was this creature. But the third time
it sank, never to rise again.
While
the onlookers roared their approval, Jan threw down his club and walked over
before the golden throne. It was the first time he had had a good look at the
Emperor and
Empress;
and he was surprised. Somehow he had
expected Mena to be old and hideous like the High Priest, Samsu. He was
astonished, therefore, to see a handsome, smooth-shaved, athletic-looking man,
not yet forty. His wife, Nefer-tre, was not only quite young-looking, but
beautiful. She reminded Jan of Ramona, as if she
might indeed have been
an elder sister or her
mother. The Emperor stood up.
"You have earned a reward, Jan of the Jungle," he
said, not unkindly.
"Name it."
"I
ask that the prisoner, Prince Koh of Temukan, be freed and sent back unharmed
to his father with a suitable escort," said Jan.
The Emperor looked
astonished.
"Prince
Koh has been condemned to the games," he said. "He is to appear in the next event. I
cannot—"
He
did not finish his sentence, for the Empress had suddenly reached over, laid
her hand on his arm, and said something to him in a low voice. Jan could not
hear What she said, but he surmised that she was
interceding for him, as she gave him a little friendly smile. At first Mena
shook his head firmly, but gradually, as his beautiful wife talked to him, he seemed to relent.
"Very
well, Jan of the Jungle," he said. "Your request is granted." He turned to the master of ceremonies. "Go on with
the next event."
Through
one of the numerous gates beneath the tiers of seats lumbered a great hairy
beast with long, curling tusks. A uniformed trainer rode on its neck, and an
attendant followed, carrying a sharp, three-pronged hook at the end of a heavy chain, trailing from a collar
around the great beast's neck.
At first Jan thought he was going to have to
fight this monster, a mighty bull mastodon, but he breathed easier when it
passed him unnoticed, and stopped near the carcass of the bird. The man holding
the hook jabbed a prong into the feathery body, the trainer
shouted a command, and the great prehistoric beast of
burden moved away, dragging the remains of the thunder bird with ease.
Scarcely had the carcass of the feathered giant disappeared when a
gold-armored rider galloped out of the gate beneath the throne. He handed Jan a
longbow, a quiver of arrows, and a short sword with scabbard and belt. Jan
buckled the sword belt around his waist and slung the quiver by its strap
beneath his left arm so the feathered ends of the arrows could be reached
quickly, and wondered what manner of monster he was doomed to fight this time.
He
had not long to wait, for a gate clanged over at his right, and there stalked
into the arena the most powerful and ferocious of beats—a giant saber-toothed
tiger.
XXV
RAKING CLAWS
Standing
in the center of the arena,
Jan felt quite small and insignificant in the presence of the mighty carnivore
that was stalking majestically toward him. He realized that the chances were
all against him, jungle champion though he was, for winning a battle with a
saber-toothed tiger. He was in greater danger than he had ever been before.
He
fitted an arrow to the bowstring and waited. A shaft launched from a distance
would only infuriate the brute and hasten its charge. But should the cat
continue its slow, majestic pace, he might be able to send an arrow through an
eye into the brain from a distance of fifty feet or so.
No
sound came from the myriad onlookers in the seats above. They were watching
silently, breathlessly, to see how the contestant would play this extremely
dangerous game. It promised almost certain death.
Seated
on the lowest tier before the throne were two archers, whose duty it was to see
that animals which did not show a fighting spirit in the arena were goaded to
greater ferocity. For this purpose they had longbows, and arrows with barbed
heads, backed by cross pieces that prevented their piercing beyond a depth of
two inches. A few of these barbed arrows clinging to its sides and flank
usually put any beast in a fighting humor.
One
of the archers, observing that the advancing tiger did not appear any more
ferocious than a house cat confronted by a dish of milk, fitted a barbed arrow
to the string, and nudged his companion.
"The
youth' is waiting for a close, careful shot," he said, "hoping it
will be deadly. Watch me spoil his plans." He drew the arrow back to his
ear, took deliberate aim, and let fly.
At
the twang of the bowstring the feline looked up curiously. Then, as the cruel
barb suddenly stung its shoulder, it gave vent to a roar of rage and charged,
not at Jan in the center of the arena, but straight for the archer who had
launched the arrow.
It
was fully fifteen feet from the floor of the arena to the lowest tier, but the
tiger made it in a single graceful leap. Before the astonished and horrified
archer could draw his sword, the great cat was upon him. A single crunch of the
powerful jaws crushed his head to bloody pulp.
All
this took place in a few seconds, but during that brief time Jan had not been
idle. As the great beast launched itself into the air, he sent an arrow into
its side. B.y the time it had slain the archer he had sent a second arrow after
the first.
Then
he saw the monster knocking armored soldiers right and left with sledge-hammer
blows from its powerful front paws as it made straight for the golden throne.
There were cries of horror from the spectators—shrieks of terror from the
ladies who sat with the nobles on each side of the throne.
The
Emperor stood up and drew his sword. The Empress turned deathly pale, but stood
her ground. There was but a thin line of soldiers between the monster and the
throne.
Jan
cared nothing for the archers and the soldiers. He cared nothing for the fate
of the Emperor. All these were his enemies. But the Empress had smiled at him,
with a smile that reminded him of Ramona. And she had interceded with her
husband for him. She was his friend; and she was in deadly peril.
Dropping his bow, Jan sprinted for the
gateway beneath the throne. Reaching it, he leaped upward, grasped the ornamental
rim of the arch above it, and drew himself up. Just above the arch hung the
imperial banner of Satmu, draped over the wall. Jan seized a golden tassel,
pulled himself up, and grasping the edge of the banner, clambered upward.
Flinging
an arm over the rim of the wall, he swung his body across. Then he whipped out
his shortsword and charged over the fallen warriors in the wake of the
flailing, roaring tiger.
Between
the throne and the charging fury there remained but one man. He was Telapu, son
of Samsu, Captain of the Imperial Guard and Crown Warrior. Despite his armor
and his longsword, Telapu could not bring himself to face the monster that had
knocked his men about like ninepins. With a shriek of terror, he turned and
ran, leaving the Emperor and Empress to face the beast unguarded.
It
was at this moment that Jan came up behind the tiger. With a mighty leap he
alighted on the shaggy back, and grasping the loose skin of the neck, thrust
his shortsword in to the hilt just beneath the shoulder blade.
Sounding
a frightful roar, the great cat turned to seize its foe. But it toppled
backward. Jan and the tiger rolled together to the lowest tier, where they
brought up against the edge of the wall with terrific force.
As
they lay there motionless, apparently locked in a death embrace, it was the
Emperor who first dashed down the steps to Jan's aid. Lifting a heavy paw which
lay across Jan's chest, he dragged his limp body away from that of his terrible
foe.
Then
he shouted for the royal physician and attendants. The Empress, who had hurried
after him, bent over the youth and laid her hand over his heart.
"May
Re be praised!" she exclaimed. "He lives! You must see that he is
fittingly rewarded for this brave deed, my lord."
"Such
reward as is in our power to confer shall be his," replied the Emperor.
Then he uttered a sudden exclamation of surprise as he noticed the emblem
tattooed in the palm of Jan's right hand. "Look! The sacred lotus! This is
no common savage, but a prince of the blood imperial! It accounts for his
extraordinary bravery."
"You forget, my lord," said
Nefertre, "that Telapu is also of the blood imperial. Does this, then,
account for his cowardice?"
"It's
a different strain," replied Mena; "a throw-back, which by Heru and
Anpu I'll weed from my ranksl . . . But here's the doctor."
Jan wakened in a soft bed beneath yellow
silken coverlets in which were embroidered the imperial coat of arms of Satmu.
His head, shoulder and arm were neatly bandaged, and his tattered garments of
jaguar skin had been replaced with a silken sleeping wrap.
When he sat up and saw the magnificence of
the bedchamber, he thought at first that he had arrived in that beautiful place
called heaven, which Ramona had described. But his head swam dizzily, and he
subsided to the pillow once more. He recalled rolling down the tiers of the
amphitheater in the dying clutch of the tiger, and the conviction, as his head
struck the wall, that his time had come to sleep the long sleep.
But there was a saffron-skinned Temukanese
slave standing at the foot of his bed. Had this slave also gone to heaven?
"Where are we?" he asked.
"In
the Imperial Palace, highness," replied the slave respectfully.
"Where is Prince Koh of Temukan?"
asked Jan.
"He
awaits the permission of the royal physician to visit your highness, before
beginning his journey."
'Tell
the royal physician I want to see the prince now," said Jan.
The slave bowed low and withdrew. In a few
moments he returned with a tall, dignified man, whose upper lip and jowls were
shaven, but whose chin was adorned with a short gray beard, rectangular in
shape and plaited with fine gold threads.
"I am Usephais, the doctor,
highness," he said. "So you would entertain visitors? It must be that
you are recovering rapidly. Let us see."
He unwound Jan's bandages,
one by one, and examined his wounds. Then he listened to his heart, and felt
his brow for fever.
"Head ache?" he asked.
"Not much," replied Jan, "but
it swims when I sit up." "I know. That will pass. Here, drink
this." He dissolved a powder in a glass of wine and held it to the
patient's lips.
Jan drank, and immediately felt a grateful
glow suffusing him.
"We'll have you up and around in a day
or two," said Usephais, "but for the present you must stay in bed.
You may see your friend, however."
He
withdrew, and within a short time, Prince Koh was kneeling at the bedside.
"I
don't know how to thank you," he said, gripping Jan's hand. "Since
your brilliant defense of their majesties, yesterday, I've been treated as a
visiting prince rather than a captured slave. And I'm to leave for my native
kingdom of Temukan today with an escort."
Some
time later Jan was visited by the Emperor and Empress. Because of his ignorance
of human customs or the formality of courts, he had no idea of the honor
bestowed upon him by such a visit, but he flushed under their enthusiastic
praise of his valor, and something within him that had always longed for the
care and love of a real human mother responded to the maternal ministrations of
the beautiful Nefertre, who could talk to him so soothingly, and whose cool,
soft hand upon his brow seemed to bestow a healing benediction.
By
order of the royal physician, he was kept in his apartments for three days. On
the fourth he was summoned to the imperial audience chamber.
The
page who brought the summons was followed by a half dozen slaves, who bore
quilted silken garments, gold-plated armor and weapons. While the Emperor's
messenger waited, the slaves quickly dressed Jan in the silken garments,
fastened his armor on him, and belted his sword and dagger about his waist.
Then he followed the page to the throne room.
Mena was seated on a jewel-studded golden
throne, on a dais at one end of the room. Above the back of the throne, a
brilliantly polished golden globe, representing the sun, was supported by three
images: a blue one of Aset, cut from lapis lazuli; a white one of Asar, carved
from alabaster; and a black one of Set, sculptured from polished jet.
Standing
at each side of the throne were the leading nobles, officials .and dignitaries
of the realm, including the High Priest of Asar and that of Set, and the High
Priestess of Aset.
As
Jan and the page entered the room, a major-domo announced:
"His Royal Highness,
Prince Jan."
Then
the page conducted him to the foot of the throne, while every voice was hushed,
and every eye was turned upon him.
The
Emperor stood up to receive him, an unusual honor, and made public
acknowledgement of the crown's indebtedness to him for his act of heroism at
the games.
Then
the monarch resumed his seat, and glanced over to the left, where Samsu, High
Priest of Set, stood with a little group of his black-clad followers.
"I believe you have a
petition, Samsu," he said.
"I
have, your majesty," replied the High Priest. "The savage who stands
before your throne blinded the holy Sebek. I ask that he be given into my
hands, that he may be punished for this sacrilege."
"He has already stood trial by combat on
that score," replied Mena. "The incident is closed."
"In
the name of the great god Set I demand justicel" said Samsu, his
skull-like face working.
"Well, then, justice
you shall have," said Mena. "Telapu!"
Standing
at the right of the throne, Samsu's craven son turned deathly pale, and his
knees quaked violently when he suddenly heard his name spoken by the Emperor.
Nothing had been said to him about his display of cowardice at the games, and
he was beginning to believe that on account of the influence of his father, the
matter had been overlooked.
"Yes, your
majesty," he replied, his voice quavering.
"Your
services as Captain of the Imperial Guard are no longer required. The title of
Crown Warrior is yours no longer. I return you to your father and to the ranks
of the black ones. Go!"
The
eyes of Samsu flashed an angry green. Here was a decided setback to his
ambition. For Mena had no heir, and he had hoped to place his son in line for
succession to the throne of Satmu. But he dared not utter a word of protest. As
Telapu, pale and tearful, stumbled over to where he stood, he kept his head
bowed.
"Prince
Jan," said Mena, rising once more. "In the presence of these
witnesses, I name you Crown Warrior and Captain of the Imperial Guard."
He raised his hand,
dismissing the court.
Samsu,
his face plainly showing his hate and envy, departed with his disgraced son
and his black-clad followers, while the other courtiers crowded around Jan to
congratulate him.
XXVI
THE VANQUISHED
Shortly
after Jan returned to his
quarters a page entered and bowed before him.
"Your
highness's slave by combat awaits leave to come into your presence," he
said.
"My slave by combat?
What do you mean?"
"It
is the one your highness overcame in the arena. Shall I send him in?"
"Yes."
A moment later a slender, stately individual,
whose iron-gray beard was trimmed to a sharp point, and whose neat court attire
and well-groomed person proclaimed his gentility, walked into the apartment.
Wrapped around his head was a clean white bandage. Jan, who had expected to see
the hairy wild man he had vanquished at the games, was astounded. Yet on close
scrutiny, there seemed to be a slight resemblance between this man and the one
he had stunned wit!) his club.
"Who are you?" asked Jan.
"I am Sir Henry Westgate of the outer
world," replied the man, accenting his Satmuan speech as if unfamiliar
with its use, yet understanding it. "I have been told you came here from
the outer world. What language did you speak there?"
"English,"
replied Jan. "Also a few Indian and Spanish words."
"I am English," said Sir Henry. "These
people tell me I become your slave, since you vanquished me in the arena. I do
not remember fighting you. Can you tell me about it?"
Jan
told him how he had first seen him in a cage next to his beneath the seats of
the amphitheater and of the fights that followed.
When he had finished, the
Englishman said:
"This
is terrible—tragic! I must have lost my memory for years. No doubt that blow in
the arena restored it. They tell me I was captured, quite naked, with a band of
hairy men, who were brought in for the games.
"I
was exploring the jungle, looking for a way to this very city, the existence of
which I suspected. As I wandered through the wilds I lost many members of my
expedition. Some fell prey to wild beasts, some to the long arrows and
poisonous darts of the savages, and some to the fever. Finally, when I was
reduced to but four followers, I left camp one morning on a lone trip of
exploration. After traveling several miles I came to a tall cliff. I am a
trained climber, and had brought a rope. After hours of effort I succeeded in
reaching the top of that cliff, and found that I was on the top of a long ridge about five
hundred feet wide, enclosing a vast green valley. With my field glasses I made
out what looked like a good-sized city about fifteen miles from where I stood.
I was sure this was the city for which I had been searching.
"There was a shelf, about fifty feet
below, and beneath this a number of other shelves. I had a sixty-foot rope, and
this I made fast about the base of a stunted tree that grew on the cliff top.
Then I let myself down over the cliff. I reached the first shelf without
mishap, and the second.
"As I was descending to the thud I heard
shouts below me —sounds manlike and yet beast-like. Looking down, I saw a score
of primitive beast-men, bearded, whose bodies were covered with hair. They
began to hurl sticks and stones up at me. I tried to scramble back up on the
shelf, but a missile struck the side of my head, and all went black.
"I remember nothing more that happened
until I returned to consciousness here in the palace three days ago. I know
only that years must have passed, because my hair and beard grew so long and
turned so gray."
"And
now you wish to go back to the outer world?" asked Jan.
"No.
I prefer to remain here in Satmu, to study its people. It is a privilege for
which I would give many years of my life."
"Then
do so," said Jan. "If the fact that I knocked you unconscious made
you my slave, you are free from now on," and extended his hand, as he had
seen white men do. The English scientist took it gratefully.
As
the days passed, lengthened into weeks and months, Jan grew tired of the luxury
and splendor of his life in the palace, and longed for the simplicity and
freedom of his former jungle life. He often thought of Ramona, and wished that
he could revisit the plantation to see if she had returned from her journey.
But he had come to Satmu by such a devious
way that he had no idea where to look for the underground passageway through
which he had entered the valley.
Mena
had given orders that he be instructed in reading and writing, in the arts and
sciences, and in the use of amis. He progressed rapidly with his studies, and
still more rapidly in the use of weapons, which he took to as naturally as a duck to water, thanks to his jungle-trained skill and coordination. In
a few months he could fence as well as his master. The best archer in the army
could not send an arrow or hurl a javelin straighter or farther than he.
As for riding the fierce three-horned steeds,
he had a way with the brutes that even the most experienced riders could not
duplicate.
Having learned to ride and
to fence, he was taught tilting, a sport in which long lances and shields were
used by the two rivals in each match. In the practice bouts, blunt lances were
used, the object being to unseat an opponent. But in jousting matches and
duels, lances with needle-sharp points were employed.
He
often went on hunting excursions, sometimes with small parties, and sometimes,
when the Emperor went, with large forces of hunters. The valley abounded in big
game, and the hunters, riding their swift, three-homed steeds, usually found
excellent sport. Following the hunters came the mastodons with their drivers
and attendants. The attendants cleaned and cut up the game, and loaded it on
the backs of the huge woolly pachyderms, to be conveyed back to Satmu.
One
day when Jan was out with a small party of hunters, he sighted a giant ground
sloth some distance away, squatting on its haunches and eating the leaves of a
tree. The party had been following a herd of deer, but when Jan saw this
immense creature, he left the others and hurried his mount toward it.
He had not gone far when the mylodon must
have decided that the leaves were more luscious farther on, and lumbered away
with considerable speed, for despite its awkwardness and immense bulk it could
travel quite swiftly. Soon it was leading Jan across a stretch of marsh land,
dotted with little clumps of trees. And here the sloth made swifter progress
than the pursuing triceratops, as its broad pads were better adapted to this
travel than those of Jan's steed.
It
took more than two hours to cross the marsh. By this time, Jan had lost sight
of his quarry. But the trail was plain enough, and he urged his mount along
this at top speed. Soon he emerged from the tree-sprinkled country onto a
broad, grassy plain. Less than a half mile away he saw the mylodon.
Here,
with the advantage all in favor of the triceratops, he gained rapidly on the
monster. As he came up behind it, it turned, and rearing itself on its thick tail
and sturdy hind legs, awaited his coming.
Jan
couched his long lance and charged. He had aimed for the left breast, and the
lace point struck and entered the target unswervingly. With a terrible
screaming roar, the my-lodon swung its two powerful forefeet in retaliation. An
immense paw struck Jan with a terrific impact, and sent him rolling in the tall
grass fully twenty feet away from his saddle. For a moment he lay there, half
stunned.
The
mylodon, apparently mortally wounded, was bellowing, moaning and threshing
about in the grass. But the triceratops, having lost its rider, was galloping
back toward Satmu by the way it had come, as fast as its stout legs would carry
it.
Jan shouted to his runaway steed at the top
of his voice, but with no effect.
Had
he been a city-bred man, confronted by the prospect of being left alone in this
wilderness, Jan might have sunk to the utmost depths of despair. But to this
man of the jungle being alone in the wilds was a pleasure. It was easy for him
to slip back into the old ways.
He
waited until the great sloth lay still. Then, with his keen dagger, he carved a
steak from the rump and ate until his hunger was satisfied. Nor did he neglect
carving off another piece and wrapping it in a strip of tough hide as a provision against future needs.
After
he had eaten, Jan was thirsty, and the breeze from the south carried the scent
of water. He accordingly set out in that direction. As he did so, there came to
him the howling of a hyaenodon that had scented the kill, answered by a score of canine throats from all directions.
A
half hour's walk brought him to the bank of a river that meandered between low,
willow-fringed banks. After he had drunk his fill, he looked downstream, and
noticed that there was something strangely familiar about the locality in which
he found himself. An unbroken line of tall, perpendicular cliffs confronted
him, and the river disappeared into the face of one of these, not two miles
from where he stood. On the left bank of the stream stood the temple ruins and
the great stone images that he had seen when he first entered the valley.
Here,
then, was the lost passageway! The gateway to his beloved jungle, and perhaps
to that beautiful creature beyond the jungle who had gone on a long journey, but who had promised she would return and wait for him.
Hungry
for a sight of his jungle once more, and thrilled at the prospect of finding
Ramona, Jan lost no time in getting to the temple ruins. As it was impossible
for him to swim weighted down with his armor and weapons, he made a light raft
from pieces' of driftwood bound together with strands of twisted grass. Then he
stripped, and after piling his clothing, armor and weapons on the raft, pushed
out into the stream.
Inside
the cavern, he dragged his craft up on the bank, and dressed once more. Then he
followed the dark passageway to the opening beneath the falls, descended the
cliff face, plunged through the sheet of falling water and waded ashore.
A
glance upward revealed that his tree house was still there. Joyously climbing
the bank, he made for the base of the great tree that had been his home for so
long.
But
he came to a sudden halt, as two rifles cracked almost in unison. At the impact
of the two projectiles, Jan spun halfway round, then fell.
XXVII
A FIGHTING VICTIM.
As Jan
fell to the ground, Dr.
Bracken's two Indian watchers, their rifles still smoking, leaped from their
hiding place and ran toward him with exultant shouts.
But
much to their surprise and consternation, the victim got to his feet just as
they reached him. His sword leaped from its sheath. One savage was pierced
before he could recover from his astonishment. The other quickly turned and
fled into the jungle.
Jerking
his blade free of the sagging body, Jan hurried after the running Indian. But
the weight of his armor impeded him. Whipping bow and arrow from the quiver at
his back, he sent a steel-tipped shaft after his fleeing assailant. It struck
the Indian in the back of the neck and passed through, inflicting a mortal wound. By the time Jan came up beside him, he was dead.
Having
made sure that the savage was sleeping the long sleep, Jan returned to the base
of the tree. Here, he curiously examined the armor covering his left shoulder,
where the two projectiles had struck. It was dented in two places, but not
broken through. He saw one of the projectiles lying nearby—a crumpled hollow
cylinder with liquid dripping from it, and the broken stub of a needle on one
end.
Before
proceeding on into the jungle, Jan decided to inspect the tree house. But in
order to climb, he was forced to remove his metal shoes and gauntlets. These he
slung by straps around his neck. Then he made the ascent.
Most
of the articles in the tree house seemed to be as he had left them, except that
the machetes and other iron weapons had rusted. The roof
had several holes in it where parts of the thatch had blown away, and the floor
was littered with leaves and bits of grass that had fallen from the roof.
Although
his armor had saved him from the hypodermic bullets of the two Indians, Jan was
beginning to grow quite tired of it. He was as proud of it as is any high
school boy with a new raccoon coat, and pride dictated that he should keep it
on, that Ramona might witness its splendor.
But
he could not run with it on, nor swing through the trees, hence his trip to the
Suarez plantation would be slowed down. He decided to leave it in the tree
house.
With
the aid of his dagger and a rawhide thong, he quickly fashioned himself a garment from one of his jaguar hides. Then he removed his armor and
silken garments, piled them on the floor, and covered them with another hide.
He also decided to leave his sword, as it might impede his movements, and take
with him only his bow and arrows and his dagger.
As he descended the tree and plunged into the
jungle, he exulted in the feeling of freedom induced by his change of costume.
It was good to feel the warm air blowing on his bare head and naked limbs. And
the soft leaf mold caressed the soles of his feet, which for months had been
shod with metal. This jungle, to him, was home.
Night found him many miles from his tree
house, comfortably curled in a crotch high above the ground, here the evening
breeze, gently swaying the tree-tops, softly lulled him to sleep.
He rose with the sun, and finding the meat he
had brought with him a bit too high for palatibility, he flung it away and shot
a peccary. Having breakfasted, he set off once more toward the north.
It was late afternoon of the third day when
he reached the ceiba
tree under the roots of
which he had slept during those days which had passed all too swiftly before
Ramona's departure for the United States.
He
was about to peer into his former retreat when he suddenly heard a girl scream,
as if in deadly terror. He heard several more muffled cries. Then all was still
as before. The sound had come from far over to his right. And the voice was
undoubtedly that of Ramona. Just once before had he heard her utter such a
scream—on that eventful day when he had stepped between her and the charging
puma.
With
the swiftness of a leaping deer, he bounded off in the direction from which the
sounds had come.
It
was some time before Jan reached the spot from which the cries had come. But
once there, his jungle-trained eyes instantly read the story of the girl's
futile struggle with two Indians. From this point, the trail they had taken was
as plain to Jan as is a concrete pavement to a motorist. He had not gone far
before he again heard the voice of Ramona, mingled with the gruff tones and
coarse laughter of a man.
A
moment more, and he emerged into a small clearing just in time to see the girl
being dragged into the dark interior of a hut by some invisible person.
With
an involuntary snarl, he bounded across the clearing and entered the hut. As he
had plunged from the bright sunlight into semi-darkness, there was an instant
when he could see nothing. During that instant, a pistol blazed at him from
beside a shadowy bulk that loomed in the darkness, and a sharp pain seared his
side.
Jan launched himself at that shadowy form.
One hand sought and found the wrist that held the pistol. The other gripped a
sinewy throat. The pistol roared again, so close that the powder burned his
shoulder. Jan suddenly bent and seized the gun wrist in his teeth. There was a
lurid Spanish curse, and the weapon thudded to the clay floor.
Although
Jan was far stronger than the average man, his advantage was offset by the fact
that his opponent knew, and did not hesitate to employ, almost eveiy trick of
wrestling and boxing, as well as many which are barred both on the mat and in
the ring.
Striking,
biting, clutching, clawing, gouging, and kicking, they fought there in the
semi-darkness with the ferocity of jungle beasts. Presently, locked in a
vise-like clinch, they swayed and fell to the floor. Rolling over and over,
they crashed through the flimsy wall of the hut and out into the sunlight. And
it was there, when his eyes became adjusted to the change of light, that Jan
recognized Santos, his old enemy.
The sight added fuel to the flames of his
anger—gave a new impetus to his fast-waning strength. Santos had clamped on an
arm-lock that would have broken the bones of one less mightily thewed. But his
eyes caught the glitter of Jan's jeweled dagger hilt which the youth had
completely forgotten in this primitive struggle with nature's weapons.
The
captain had nearly reached the limit of his endurance. If he could get that
dagger he might end the contest in his favor with a single, well-placed thrust.
But he could not reach for it without giving up the advantage which the
arm-lock gave him, as this kept both his hands occupied. He must therefore act
with lightning swiftness.
He
increased the pressure on Jan's arm, then suddenly let go and, straightening
up, grabbed for the dagger. Jan had been resisting the hold by curving the arm
downward. As the captain released it, his hand came in contact with a smooth,
round stone, half embedded in the soft clay.
With
a grunt of triumph, Santos jerked the dagger from its sheath and raised it
aloft. But at this instant, Jan swung the stone, catching him between the eyes.
At the impact of that terrific blow, the dagger dropped from Santos's nerveless
fingers, and he slumped forward.
Flinging the limp body of his enemy from him,
Jan picked up his dagger, sheathed it, and hurried into the hut. There on the
floor, in a little crumpled heap, lay Ramona, as limp and apparently as
lifeless as the captain.
Tenderly,
Jan picked her up and carried her out into the sunlight. So far as he could
see, there were no marks of violence on her other than the red lines where the
rope had chafed her wrists.
A
great fear entered his heart. Perhaps he had arrived too late, after all.
Perhaps the weapon which had creased his ribs and burned his shoulder had slain
her in some mysterious manner, and she was sleeping the long sleep.
But
in a moment Ramona, who had fainted, opened her eyes. Weakly she flung an arm
around his neck, snuggled more closely against his shoulder.
"I
waited so long for you, Jan," she murmured. "I thought you would
never come."
As
he stood there holding her in his arms and looking down into her great dark
eyes, Jan saw a light in them that kindled the smoldering flame in his bosom
and sent the blood coursing madly through his strong young body. Unconsciously
he held her tighter. Slowly he bent over her lips.
Once
before in her life she had kissed him.- The farewell of a child, a playmate.
That kiss he would always remember. But in the interval of separation, Nature
and the longing each had felt for the other, had wrought a wondrous change. Now
the fires of their youthful love flamed as their lips met.
Her
arm tightened around his neck, stole up to caress his tangle of auburn curls.
"I love you,
Bamona," he murmured.
"Janl Take me away
with you! Don't ever leave me again!"
With
Ramona still in his arms Jan strode off into the jungle, her slight weight as
nothing to him.
"Oh,
Jan! What have I said? What have we done? Put me down! Please!"
Puzzled, he stood her on
her feet.
"You
must take me home, Jan. I didn't mean what I said." "You mean you
don't want to come with me?" "I must hurry home. I don't know what
made me say
i
what
I did. My people will be worried frantic about me. And tomorrow I leave again,
for school."
Hearing that, Jan felt
crushed.
"All right," he
said soberly, "I'll take you home."
They
had not taken more than a dozen steps in the direction of the hacienda, when
there came to them the sounds of men's voices, and a trampling and crashing
through the undergrowth.
XXVIII
JUNGLE MAN-HUNT
At
some distance from
his base camp, Dr. Bracken, with several of his Indians, was tramping through
the jungle when the two who had abducted Ramona dashed
breathlessly out into the trail, their expressions plainly showing their excitement.
The doctor stopped.
"What the devil is the matter?" he
demanded. "Where are you two going?"
"El Diablo kill captain!" panted
one of them.
Dr.
Bracken knew that by "El Diablo" they referred to Jan.
"Where is he?
Quick!"
"Over
at malocca! Captain build hut, steal señorita from hacienda! Diablo come! Kill
captain!"
"Served
him right, the dirty double-crosser!" snarled the doctor. "But come!
Show me where! We'll catch this Diablo now, for sure." He shouted an order
to the other Indians standing along the trail. "Quick, men—follow
mel" Then he dashed off with the two guides.
"Why didn't you catch El Diablo?"
he demanded, as they raced along.
"Got no rifles," grunted one.
"Can't catch without the rifles."
"Afraid of him, eh? You stood there and let
him kill your captain."
"No.
Captain already dead. He send us away. We hear shots. Go back. Captain on
ground. El Diablo going into hut. We run hunt for you."
But
before they got to the malocca
the doctor suddenly saw a
shaft of sunlight flash on a tousled mass of auburn curls, a light skin, and a
spotted garment of jaguar hide. He snapped his rifle to his shoulder and fired.
Jan
heard the sound of men coming through the jungle toward them. He stopped and
looked about him while Ra-mona went ahead. At that instant a rifle cracked, and
a bullet, striking a twig beside him, went whining on its way. Crouching low,
he hurried to where the girl stood waiting for him.
"Come!"
he said to Ramona. "They are after us. They are too many for us to fight.
We must run."
It
took every ounce of jungle cunning Jan possessed to elude the doctor and his
savage pack, as he piloted Ramona through the tangled vegetation. He was
forced to zigzag, and at times to double in his tracks, but always his course
led him nearer and nearer to the hacienda. And always the pack was close at his
heels.
Presently,
after some two hours of running and dodging, they emerged in the don's grove of
young rubber trees. The sound of the hunters crashing through the jungle grew
louder behind them.
Jan stopped.
"Good-by," he said. "Run to
the house! Hurry! I'll lead them another way."
"But, Jan— There is something I—that
is—your father and mother—"
"Hurry!"
he snapped. "They are almost here." Then he swarmed up a thick liana,
swung onto a limb, and disappeared in the dense tangle of foliage.
Ramona
stood there uncertainly for a moment, looking at the spot where he had
vanished. But the sound of the running savages, now only a few hundred feet
away, recalled her to her peril, and she turned and ran breathlessly to the
patio.
After Jan turned back into the jungle,
climbing from tree to tree, it was not long before he saw his pursuers coming
toward him. And in their midst was a figure that aroused in him all the pent-up
hatred that years of abuse had engendered—Dr. Bracken.
His
intention had been to wait until the man-hunters had passed beneath him, then
shout to attract their attention and lead them in the other direction. But that
was before he knew that his ancient enemy led the party.
From
the Satmuan quiver at his back he drew bow and arrow. Then he took deliberate
aim at the bearded figure, and let fly. Pierced through the chest, the doctor
uttered a choking cry and collapsed. At the twang of his bow, the Indians
stopped, peering ahead of them to see whence it had come. But they did not
think to look upward.
There was a second twang, and one of the
Indians pitched forward on his face, shot through the heart. The others turned
and fled, scattering in all directions, but two more of their number fell
before they were out of bow-shot.
Jan
returned his bow to the quiver and swung forward through the branches. He paused,
directly above his fallen enemy. The doctor's white, upturned features were
motionless. His eyes were closed.
For
a moment, Jan stared down at the hated face. Then he went onward into the
depths of the jungle. When he had traveled for a considerable distance, he
sighted a curas-sow and remembered that he had not eaten for some time. The
bird fell before his arrow, and he descended to the ground. With his keen
dagger for a carving knife, Jan sat down to his savage feast.
Having eaten, he went to the river for a
drink of water. Then darkness set in, and he climbed a tree for the night.
Morning found him in a quandary as to where
to go or what to do. Ramona's actions had both puzzled and piqued him. Why, he
wondered, had she begged him with one breath to take her away, and with the
next, insisted that he take her back to her people? Like many an older and more
experienced male, Jan came to the conclusion that the feminine mind was
baffling.
She had said she was going away. So he
finally decided that he would go and try to see her before she left—perhaps
persuade her to come with him. Failing in this, he would return to Satmu and
try to forget her. He accordingly set off along the river bank.
When
he reached the hacienda, Jan proceeded with caution. He heard much talking,
then a loud cheer, and cries of "Adios!"
Hurrying
forward, he peered through the bushes. Just ahead of him was the dock, and on
it many people were standing. There were Indians, half-breeds and white people;
men, women and children. They were waving farewell to a fleet of canoes that
was heading down the river. In the foremost canoe rode Ramona.
Jan's
heart sank. He felt very lonely and forsaken. For some time he watched the
people on the dock. He noticed, among the others, a woman whose hair was the
precise color of his own. He thought her very beautiful. Her sweet face, with
its big, wistful eyes, attracted him unaccountably. She was clinging to the arm
of a tall, dark-haired, sun-bronzed man he had not seen before. Together with
the don and dona, they walked to the house.
Jan
turned away, heavy-hearted. Leisurely, he made his way back to his tree house,
hunting as he traveled, and taking five days. He approached it cautiously,
fearful of ambush. But there was no one about. The skeletons of the two Indians
he had slain lay where they had fallen, picked clean by jungle scavengers.
Somehow
the place did not seem so alluring to him as he had imagined it would when in
Satmu. Here was nothing but desolation and loneliness. With Ramona gone, it was
unbearable. Every man he met was his enemy.
In
Satmu he had many friends—good comrades with whom he could joust, fence or
hunt. The hidden valley now attracted him as much as the jungle had drawn him
before. He decided to return to Satmu. It would be the place to try to
forget—to shape his life anew.
Jan
found his armor, clothing and sword lying where he had left them. Descending to
the ground, he carried them up under the falls, climbed to the chamber above,
and made his way to where he had left his raft. Here he stripped to the skin,
leaving his jaguar-hide garment in the cave and piling everything else on his
narrow raft.
Pushing
off, he swam out into the channel. Soon he emerged into the bright daylight of
the hidden valley He was swimming for the side on which the temple ruins stood
when something splashed in the water quite near him. Then he heard much
splashing from the direction of the opposite bank.
Turning, he saw a large band of hairy men,
some standing on the bank hurling sticks and stones at him, others plunging
into the water and swimming toward him.
With
missiles splashing about him, he pivoted and tried to drag his narrow raft
swiftly to the other bank. But a large stone struck the edge of the unstable
craft, tilting it and spilling his armor and weapons, all of which sank immediately.
Abandoning
the now useless raft, he quickly swam out of range of the missiles and made the
shore.
Stark
naked, he ran up the bank with the water dripping from his glistening body.
Then he sprinted along the broken, weed-grown avenue lined by the giant stone
images, straight for the temple ruins.
Close
behind him came a howling mob of hairy wild men, brandishing clubs and hurling
such bits of stone as they could catch up while running.
XXIX
THE GRAVEN ARROW
When
Ramona dashed into the
patio after her rescue by Jan, she found no one there. She passed on through
the big house, and found it empty and deserted. But in front of the house she
heard excited voices. As she burst out onto the veranda she saw most of the
plantation personnel assembled on the river front. Harry Trevor and Don
Femando, having
divided their available forces, were each ready to lead a search party into the
jungle.
Her
old duenna, Señora
Soledade, was weeping hysterically,
while Georgia Trevor and the doña tried
to quiet her. Ramona
ran up to where the three
women stood, and all attempted.to embrace her at once.
As
soon as they had ascertained that she was unharmed, everybody, it seemed, was
asking her questions at one time.
She
told them of her kidnaping by Santos, her rescue by Jan, and the pursuit by
Santos's Indians, which she had just escaped at the edge of the clearing.
Within
a short time the two parties that had been organized to hunt for her had
united, and forming a long line, started out to look for Jan.
Harry
Trevor was forcing his way through the dense undergrowth when he heard a shout
far over at his left. This was followed by excited talking. Hurrying over, he
saw Don Fernando and two of his plantation hands bending over a man lying on
the ground. As he came closer he saw that the man was Dr. Bracken. The feathered
shaft of an arrow protruded from his chest. The don had opened the man's
bloodstained shirt front, and was listening for heartbeats.
"Is he dead?"
asked Trevor, coming up beside him.
"His
heart still beats," replied the don. "He may pull through. The arrow
seems to have pierced the upper right lobe of his lung."
"Better get that arrow out of him,
hadn't we?" suggested Trevor.
"Have to pack the wound when we
do," replied Don Fernando, "or he may bleed to death. We'll take him
to the house just as he is."
Under the don's directions a litter was
quickly made from two saplings with branches placed across them. On- this the
doctor was gently laid, and carried to the hacienda. Then a canoe was
dispatched for Padre Luis, a missionary priest living with a tribe of Indians
down the river. He was reputed to have great medical skill.
Some hours later the padre arrived. After extracting the arrow and dressing the wound, he announced
that if no infection set in, the patient would probably recover. When he left
the sick room, he took along the two pieces of the arrow he had removed.
Together with the don and Trevor, he entered the library.
"A
strange arrow for these parts, señores," he said. "No Indian workmanship there. The head is of tempered, polished
steel. The band behind it
is pure gold. Those
hieroglyphics on the band, besides, are not Indian writing."
He handed the pieces to Don
Fernando.
"Why!"
exclaimed the don. "They look like the picture writing on the
basket!"
"Basket?" asked
the padre.
"A
strange basket I found floating down the river some years ago," replied
the don, who in his excitement at sight
of the characters had almost betrayed the family secret. "But wait. I have a code. Sir Henry Westgate, an
archaeologist who passed through here a number of years ago, left it with me."
He
took a bulky manuscript, yellow with age, from a desk drawer, and thumbed
through it. Presently he stopped, and with pad and pencil noted the characters
on the gold band and compared them with those on the manuscript page. Presently
he read:
'Warrior
of the Prince, Tchan, Son of the Sun.' I have it! There is no letter J in the
alphabet of these people, so they were forced to use Tch. The inscription
means, 'Crown Warrior Jan, Son of the Sun.' This arrow belonged to your
boy."
"Crown Warrior,"
mused Trevor. "What could that be?"
"It
says here," continued the don, "that it is a title bestowed for
distinguished service to the crown. I am of the opinion that your son has found
the lost colony of Mu, for which Sir Henry Westgate was searching. And having
reached it, he has distinguished himself in some way, earning the title of
Crown Warrior. How he attained the hereditary title of 'Sa Re,' I cannot
imagine."
"The
Indians hereabout all have traditions of an ancient warlike white race living
in the interior," said Padre Luis.
"I
have listened to these tales many times, but I never believed them."
"If
this is Jan's arrow, it follows that he shot the doctor," said Trevor.
"I wonder why."
"I
believe I can explain that," the padre said.
"After I had dressed his wound and administered a stimulant, the doctor
talked a little. He said he and his men had caught a glimpse of the youth and
had followed him, hopping to capture him and bring him in. Jan had suddenly
turned and shot him. Bracken apparently did not know that the señorita was with Jan, that she had been abducted, or
that Captain Santos had been slain. I told him he must not do any more talking
on account of his injured lung, but he insisted on telling me that much. No
doubt he will be able to explain everything shortly."
"In
the meantime," said Trevor, "how are we to find Jan?"
"It
is my opinion," replied the don, "that in order to find him we must
locate this lost colony of Mu. No doubt he is well on his way to his adopted
people by this time."
"I'll
find it," said Trevor, "if I have to go over the entire South
American continent with a fine-toothed comb."
As Jan, naked and unarmed, sprinted toward
the temple ruins with the mob of hairy men in swift pursuit, he suddenly
thought of the blowgun and darts he had left in an anteroom some time before.
If they were still there and he could but get to Üiat room in time he would give these wild men a surprise.
He
dashed through the portal amid a shower of sticks and stones, and made straight
for his cache.
On reaching it, he found, to his delight,
that the weapon and missiles were still there.
Quickly catching the blowgun and the quiver
of darts, he loaded the tube and stood in the hallway, waiting. But to his
surprise, not one of the hairy men came near. He stood there for some time, and
though he could hear the shouts of the wild men outside the temple, he saw no
one.
Presently he decided to take a
look. He made his way to the
portal of the building, cautiously watching for an ambush.
At
the portal, he paused. Standing about fifty feet away was a large group of
hairy men, chattering excitedly. They seemed afraid to come any nearer.
Evidently they were fearful of some danger, fancied or real, in the temple
ruins. Something within the building had evidently frightened them before.
Perhaps the saber-toothed tiger which had formerly laired there had slain some
of their companions. Jan raised his blowgun to his lips. Then he sped a dart at
a big hairy fellow who towered above the others. The wild man fell without a
sound, and the others stared at him in awed amazement.
Then
one of them spied Jan standing in the entrance. With a loud cry of rage he
pointed the youth out to the others. Jan dodged a shower of miscellaneous
missiles and brought down another hairy creature with a tiny dart. The entire
pack seemed about to charge him.
Suddenly
he heard a familiar sound over at his right— the clatter of armored riders and
the thunderous tread of their mounts. The hairy men heard it, too, and turning,
scampered for the river. But few of them reached it, for a troop of the Golden
Ones came charging around the side of the ruins with lances couched, pursuing
them relentlessly, spitting them on their shafts and riding them down beneath
the thundering hoofs.
In
the midst of the party rode Mena, Emperor of Satmu, resplendent in his
glittering, richly jeweled armor. He caught sight of Jan standing in the
portal, and dismounting, walked toward him.
"By the long hairy nose of Anpu!"
he said, coming up. "How is it that we find you going about in the costume
of a new-born infant? Where are your armor and weapons, and what is that
odd-looking tube you carry?"
"My armor and weapons are at the bottom
of the river, majesty," replied Jan. "I put them on a raft and went
for a swim, but the hairy ones came and overturned them, chasing me into the
temple where I found this weapon." He explained the use of the blowgun to
the Emperor, and pointed out the bodies of the hairy men who had been slain by
the darts.
"A
curious and terrible weapon," said Mena. "I'm glad they are not used
in Satmu. Leave it here, and come with me. Luckily, the mastodons carry some
extra armor, arms and clothing of mine, so we can fit you out again. We'll
dress you like an emperor for your triumphal return. You had me worried, Jan.
Thought we would never find you. But to-day we came across the gnawed skeleton
of the big sloth you killed, with your broken lance still wedged between its
ribs, so I imagined that if you were alive, you would be somewhere
hereabout."
"Permit
me to thank your majesty for coming to my rescue," said Jan.
"It's all right, lad. You came to mine
once, didn't you?" A big mastodon lumbered over at a sign from the monarch.
"Ho, slave!" he called to the
driver perched on the woolly neck. "Make the beast kneel. We would get
some wearables from that pack."
It was not long before Jan, fully armed and
armored once more, was riding beside the Emperor on one of the three-horned
mounts. The cavalcade entered Satmu shortly after dark that night.
Jan's return to Satmu was a signal for much
rejoicing among its inhabitants, for he had the double distinction of being the
Emperor's favorite, and the popular idol as well. Mena held a great feast in
honor of the event, which lasted far into the night.
Jan
said nothing to any one of his adventures in the jungle. His secret sorrow at
Bamona's refusal to return with him was well concealed. Instead of moping
about, he worked harder and played harder than ever before. By keeping busy he
succeeded in covering up the longing that tugged at his heart.
But
try as he would, he could not forget Ramona. He lived over and over again those
hours spent in the patio, learning to speak, to write and to draw; and that one
outstanding moment in his life when, with arms around his neck and warm lips
close to his, she had begged him to take her away with him—to never leave her
again.
Then
he would wake to stern reality, and go about the business of trying to reshape
his life.
XXX
ENEMIES
Thus
the months passed. A new
note of sadness was added when Cinema died of old age and rich living. Having
been the pet of the Empress, she was given a royal funeral, and her mummy was
laid away in a magnificent sarcophagus in one of the pyramidal mausolems of the
burial grounds of Re.
Like
all popular idols, Jan had his enemies. Chief among these were Samsu, High
Priest of Set, and his craven son, Telapu, whom Jan had ousted. It was
popularly conceded that the Emperor would name Jan his heir; but Samsu had
other plans.
The
black priest, however, was very crafty. Openly, he voiced only admiration for
the Emperor's favorite. But several attempts were made on Jan's life. Assassins
attacked him by night. Heavy stones mysteriously fell near him from house
tops. Once he was near death from poison.
Althought
Samsu was suspected, there was never the slightest evidence of his guilt. But
like all who plot in secret, he finally made a slip that exposed him.
Jan
entered his room late one night, tired after a day's hunting. A slave was there
to take off his armor, and another to prepare his bath. The room was fully
lighted, and everything was apparently as it should be. Yet Jan had a feeling
of uneasiness which he could not shake off. Something was wrong. A sixth sense
seemed warning him that danger threatened.
Having bathed and donned his silken sleeping
garments, he got into bed. One slave had taken his armor out to be polished.
The other snuffed the fragrant oil lamps and departed, leaving him in darkness
and silence.
Then
Jan realized what had warned him of danger. Above the powerful aroma of the
burning lamps, his jun-gle-trainted nostrils had caught the scent of some one—
a stranger—there in his room.
For
some time Jan lay still, listening tensely. There was no unusual sound. He
realized that whoever was in the room would know, by the way he was breathing,
that he was not asleep, so he simulated the regular respiration of slumber.
A
few minutes later he heard some one slip from behind a tall chest that stood in one corner and stealthily move toward him in
the darkness.
Continuing
his regular breathing, Jan reached for the heavy stone water bottle that stood
on a tabouret beside his bed. Then, springing out of bed, he hurled it straight
at the shadowy form of the marauder. A thud, a gasp, and the sound of a heavy
body falling to the floor, told him his missile had struck the mark. He leaped
to the door, flinging it wide and admitting the yellow light from the
flickering hall lamps.
A black-robed, shaved-headed figure lay upon
the floor, moaning and choking. It was the priest Kebshu, first assistant to
Samsu. Jan had seen him at court many times with the High Priest of Set. Near
his hand lay a long, keen dagger, which he had dropped as he fell.
Some
one came along the hallway, stopped in front of the door. Jan looked up. It was
Sir Henry Westgate, his arms filled with dusty scrolls from the library. He
dropped them, and taking a iamp from its bracket, brought it into the room.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"What has happened?"
"Just
another assassin of the Black One," said Jan, wearily. "I hit him
with a water bottle and he doesn't seem to recover well."
Sir
Henry opened the black robe of the fallen man, revealing a bloody bruise over
the heart from which a fractured rib protruded.
"I
am—dying!" moaned the
man on the floor. "There is something—must confess—to Emperor!"
A
sentry came clanking along the hallway, stopped, and entered the room.
"Go
and ask the Emperor to come here at once," Jan told him.
The guard hurried away.
"Why
did you try to kill me?" Jan asked the gasping man on the floor.
"Samsu—made
me," was the reply. "Must obey—chief." Sir Henry shook his head
sadly.
Presently
Mena arrived, a robe thrown over his sleeping garments. He bent over the
recumbent priest.
"Well,
Kebshu, you finally got caught in the act," he said, "and having the
man, we can easily take the master."
"Must
tell—something, majesty," said Kebshu. "Bend lower—will not be here
much longer."
"Go on. I'm
listening," said Mena, stooping still lower.
"About
your majesty's infant daughter. It was I—who stole her, for Samsu. He did not
want—heir—stand between Telapu and—throne."
"Villain! What did you
do with her?"
"Samsu
put her in—floating basket, with—prayer to Hepr. I think that she—that
she—" His weak voice trailed off to silence. A shudder ran through his
frame. Kebshu was dead.
Mena stood up, solemnly raised his right
hand, and said:
"By the life of my head and the tombs of
my forefathers, I swear that Samsu shall be chained naked on the Rock of
Judgment for three days without food or water, that the great god Re may do
with him as his wisdom dictates."
Then he turned, and with bowed head, started
to walk out of the room. But Sir Henry, who had been listening attentively,
suddenly called:
"Majesty!"
The Emperor turned slowly.
"What would your majesty say if I were to tell you that your daughter is
probably alive?"
Mena dropped his dejected air, fiercely
gripped the wrist of the Englishman. "What do you mean?"
Westgate told how Don Fernando had found
Ramona in a basket.
"You must take me to her!" said
Mena. "I will violate every tradition of my ancestors. I will wreck the
barriers that shut us off from the outer world which we have not passed for
thousands of years, if I can only find my little daughter!"
"That
will not be necessary," said Jan of the Jungle. "I can find Ramona
for you."
He opened his right hand, displaying the
tattooed sacred lotus.
"This was copied from the palm of her
right hand," he said. "She taught me to speak, to write, to draw. I
begged her to come here with me, but she refused. I was hurt. For that reason I have never gone back."
"But you will go back
now," said Mena.
"The Emperor's word is my law,"
replied Jan. "I leave at dawn."
Harry Trevor had left no stone unturned in
his search for his lost son. Large parties of his men traversed the jungle
from east to west and from north to south, looking for Jan and inquiring about
the lost colony of Mu.
When
he saw that his quest might take months, or even years, Trevor brought a large
tract of land across the river from the property of Don Fernando. Plans were
begun for a palatial home. At the river front he prepared to install concrete
docks and a large boathouse for launches, speedboats and canoes. He would also
set out thousands of rubber trees, the nucleus of a plantation.
Dr.
Bracken's lung recovered, and he again took charge of the jungle sector south of
the Suarez plantation. The two Indians who were implicated with Santos in the
kidnaping of Ramona had run away. But he kept the others at his base camp, and
posted new guards at the tree hut.
Shortly
after his arrival there, Dr. Bracken was seated in his cabin one day when a
familiar figure appeared in the doorway. With a start, he recognized Santos.
The captain's appearance was much changed by a livid scar in the center of his
forehead.
"You
don' expect to see me again, eh?" said Santos, with a grin.
"One
doesn't look for dead men to come to life," replied the doctor, "and
you are officially dead. Sit down."
The
captain seated himself on a folding stool and lighted a cigarette.
"Was
only knock' out for leetle while," he said. "My two Indian come back
for gat my gun. They find me sitteeng up. I 'ad stock the hut weeth provision,
so we stay there. But now I need some theengs. You are my frand. I come to
you."
"You
made a damn' fool move, kidnaping that girl when you did. But we'll forget
that. I can use you if you want to take a little trip for me. I'll put you on a
salary and pay all expenses. But of course you'll have to keep under
cover."
"I do that, all right.
What ees this trip?"
"I
want you to go to Caracas for me, to get some things. I'm going to set a trap
for Jan that he won't escape. The Indians fired their hypo bullets, all right,
but Jan was evidently wearing gold-plated armor. Now this time I'll fix him.
Here's what I want."
Closing the door so the Indians would not
overhear, he hitched his chair close to that of the captain and gave him his
instructions.
That night Santos left for Caracas.
XXXI
DR. BRACKEN'S REVENGE
Some
two months later the
captain returned with twenty carriers, all heavily laden. All were paid and
dismissed except the two Indians who had previously accompanied him.
During the following week, a circular trench
about four feel wide and eight feet deep was dug around the tree which held
Jan's hut. A few inches of the top soil and sod were retained, but all other
soil taken out was dumped into the stream.
Then many copper wires were stretched about
in the trench, after which it was covered with crossed sticks barely strong
enough to sustain the earth and sod laid on them. Running from this trench to
the doctor's cabin, slightly below the surface of the soil, was a concealed
insulated electric cable.
His
trap completed, the doctor settled down to await the arrival of his victim. His
Indians supposed the trench to be an animal trap. Every time a tapir blundered
into it, Bracken pretended to be highly elated, made the necessary repairs,
and covered the surface as before.
One
night the doctor returned to his cabin, tired out after a long march. He had
been to the hacienda on the occasion of Ramona's home-coming from school.
The
doctor climbed into his bunk and was just closing his eyes in slumber when the
alarm bell sounded on the wall near him. He got up, struck a light, and shut
off the alarm. By this time several of his Indians had responded.
"I
suppose another confounded tapir has fallen into the pit," he grumbled, as
he got into his clothing. "But we'll see."
Carrying
flash lights, he and the Indians left for the trap. Walking in the lead, the
doctor quickly saw a hole in the thin covering between the tree and the river.
The air was heavy with mingled odors of gas
and ether.
The
doctor stepped up to the hole, and flashed his light within. Then he gasped in
astonishment. His trap contained a victim!
Two Indians came up with stout, looped ropes.
When they saw what lay in the bottom of the pit, they too gaped in amazement.
For it was the body of a man clad from head to foot in shining golden armor.
One loop was dropped around a foot, and
pushed into place with a long pole. The other was dropped around the helmeted
head. In a few moments the armored body lay on the surface of the ground.
With
his long pole, the doctor shut off the machinery that was flooding the interior
of the trench with ether-spray and gas. Then he raised one of his victim's
eyelids to note the degree of anaesthesia.
Under
his directions, a crude litter was constructed, and in this the insensible one
was conveyed to his cabin. The Indians were told to go to then bunks.
As
soon as they were gone, the doctor stripped Jan of his armor and clothing. Then
he fashioned a crude garment for him from one of his jaguar skins, and dragged
him into the cage. From his medicine case, he took a bottle marked with the
Latin name, "Cannabis indica."
When
Jan showed signs of returning consciousness, Bracken prepared a solution of
the hashish, which he gave him to drink. Then the victim relapsed into a
drugged slumber, and the doctor went back to his bunk.
For
more than two weeks the doctor kept Jan under the influence of hashish, that
drug which changes the gentlest of men to dangerous, insane killers. Hashish,
the mind-destroyer, from which we have derived our word "assassin."
It was his purpose to undermine Jan's
mentality by drugs and hypnotic suggestion, until Jan had reverted to the stage
at which he escaped from the menagerie, and would be therefore subject to the
doctor's control as he had been during his life behind the bars of a cage.
Dr.
Bracken also constructed a cage on wheels, a narrow affair that could be
dragged along the jungle paths cleared by machetes. When all was ready, he
traveled north until he came within striking range of his victim, Georgia
Trevor. An Indian was dispatched to circle the plantation and come back from
the north with the report that Jan had been seen in that direction.
From his place of concealment, the doctor
grinned his triumph as he saw Harry Trevor and Don Fernando leave with a party
of searchers, following their false informant.
He
waited for darkness, then saw to it that his stage was properly set. Georgia
Trevor, he observed, was alone in the living room of the cottage they were
occupying while the big house was being built.
After
leaving instructions with Santos and the two Indians who waited in the shadows
with the caged Jan, he walked boldly up to the front door and entered.
Georgia
Trevor, who had been reading, started up in astonishment at his abrupt
entrance.
"You!" she said.
"I thought it was Harry, coming back."
"I
have a surprise for you," he announced. "Remain where you are."
"You don't
mean—?"
"But I do. I've found your son. I've
found Jan."
There
was the sound of shuffling feet—something sliding across the porch toward the
door.
The
doctor clapped his hands. A figure shambled into the room, walking ape-like on
toes and knuckles—a redheaded youth whose sole garment was a tattered jaguar
skin.
Georgia Trevor gazed at the figure,
horrified, fascinated, as a bird gazes at a serpent about to devour it. Jan's
eyes stared wildly back at her—devoid of reason, menacing.
"Madame," said the doctor,
"behold your son." Then he suddenly clapped his hands, and cried:
"Mother! Kill!"
He watched gloatingly as with a horrible,
bestial roar, the drug-crazed Jan charged straight for the woman who had borne
him.
Ramona Suarez
drew the prow of her canoe up on the dock in front of the Trevor cottage. The doña had gone to bed with a headache, leaving Ramona to her own devices, and the girl had
decided that she would cross the river and spend the evening with Georgia
Trevor.
As
she walked up the sloping lawn toward the house, she noticed a shadowy
something on the front porch. There seemed to be a cart at the bottom of the
steps, and from this two men were sliding a tall, narrow cage toward the door.
She walked closer, then gave a little gasp of surprise, for by the lamplight
that streamed out from the house she saw that Jan was in the cage. It was being
moved by Santos and one of the Indians who had abducted her.
Althought
she had no inkling of the purpose behind these actions, she knew that it could
not be other than evil. She must warn Jan's mother.
Keeping
in the shadow of the shrubbery, she ran lightly around to the side of the
house. A French window stood open, and there was a screen door on that side of
the porch. She tried the door, found it unlocked, and stepped silently inside.
Through the French window she saw Georgia Trevor, pale and frightened,
standing beside her chair. Advancing toward her with a peculiar, ape-like walk
and the look of an insane killer in his bloodshot eyes, was Jan.
She
heard the words of the doctor: "Madame, behold your son," and his
command, "Mother! Kill!"
As
Jan emitted his terrible roar and charged, Ramona ran between him and his
mother.
"Jan! Jan!" she
cried. "What are you doing? Stop!"
Jan paused, stood erect, staring fixedly at
her as if trying to evoke some lost memory.
The
doctor seized her by the arm, jerked her roughly aside.
"Keep out of this, you little
fool!" he snarled.
Some
thought, some suggestion penetrated Jan's hypnotized, drug-fogged mind as the
doctor dragged the girl aside. This girl was his. Some one—it must be an
enemy-was hinting her.
With
a second roar as thunderous as the first, he charged again, but this time at
the doctor.
Ramona
covered her eyes with her hands. There were groans, snarls, thuds, curses—the
snapping of human bones and the rending of human flesh. Then an ominous
stillness, broken only by some one's loud, labored breathing.
Suddenly
Ramona was caught up as lightly as if she had been a child and carried out of
the house, across the lawn, through the rows of young rubber trees, into the
darkness of the jungle.
Weeks later, Harry Trevor and his wife were
following four Indians who carried in a litter, a hideous, misshapen wreck of a
man. One eyelid sagged in an empty socket.
An
ear was missing. Where the nose should have been, a small square of surgical
gauze was held in place by bits of crossed tape. The arms and legs were twisted
and useless.
When
it was found that the mangled form of Dr. Bracken had some life in it, an
Indian had been dispatched for Padre Luis. But he had returned with the news
that the good padre
had gone on a mission in
the interior, and would be gone for weeks! It was a journey of two weeks to the
nearest surgeon, and it would take him two more weeks to return. By that time
it would be too late to set the doctor's broken arms and legs. And he was so
near death that he could not travel.
So
the woman and man he had devoted the best years of his life to injuring, nursed
him, and did the best they could to maintain his flickering spark of life.
He
had recovered sufficiently in six weeks to stand travel in a litter, and Harry
Trevor was sending him to Bolivar for surgical attention.
As the Indians carefully deposited the litter
in the boat, a canoe drew up beside it and grounded against the sloping
landing. A tall, straight, clean-limbed young man with the features of a Greek
god, crowned by a tumbling mass of auburn curls, sprang lightly out. He stood
for a moment, smiling at the couple who stood on the dock staring at him as if
they could not believe their eyes.
His
silken garments, decked with gold and jewels worth a fortune, were those of
another age. Jewels blazed from the golden hilts of the sword and dagger that
hung from his belt.
"Father!
Mother!" he said, holding out his arms. "I am your son, Jan. I have
come back to you because—because we need each other."
The hideous wreck in the litter cocked its
good eye up at the little group on the dock—saw Jan embrace his father, kiss
his mother, whose auburn head barely reached to his shoulder. With a shudder
Dr. Bracken turned away from the sight of his ruined plan for revenge.
"Where is
Ramona?" Jan's mother asked.
"She is with her
father and mother," replied Jan. "Her real father and mother. She's a
royal princess, you know. I just came from the hacienda. Carried a message to
the don and doña
for her. She will live with
her own parents, but has promised to visit them often."
"And
you, Jan—my sonl My boy! You will stay with us, won't you, now that we've found
you after all these years? Think of it! I have always thought of you as a baby,
for all those years, but I find you grown up—a man."
"Of
course I'll stay, mother, for a while. And I'll come back often. But next month
you must come with me for a visit. Preparations are being made for a royal
wedding, and I wouldn't want to keep Ramona waiting."
"Jan! You mean that you two are going to
be married?"
"Of
course. And mother, other than you, she is the most wonderful girl in all the
world."
If you enjoyed this book, then why not take a
look at these novels by
OTIS ADELBERT KLINE
D-561 (350) THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS
Harry
Thorne, American, exchanges bodies with a prince of the Red Planet, and battles
men and monsters for a throne.
D-531 (350)
THE OUTLAWS OF MARS
The
best weapons of a haughty empire pit themselves against the skill and daring of
a courageous Earthman and his Martian princess.
F-211 (400) PLANET OF PERIL
Grandon
of Terra shows an Empress of Venus what a he-man can do against a world of
dreaded beasts and barbaric armies.
F-259 (400) PRINCE OF PERIL
A
man of three worlds finds that life on Venus as prince of a fallen kingdom tops
everything on Earth and Mars.
F-294 (400) THE PORT OF
PERIL
Kline's
great concluding novel of Venusian adventure brings Grandon up against that
world's strangest maurauders.
F-321 (400) MAZA OF THE MOON
A
lone Earthman invades the hidden world of Luna to stop an error that might destroy
two worlds.
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"Entertaining and Imaginative"
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F-l 56 AT THE EARTH'S CORE
F-157 THE MOON MAID
F-l 58 PELLUCIDAR
F-l 59 THE MOON MEN
F-l 68 THUVIA, MAID OF MARS
F-l 69 TARZAN
AND THE LOST EMPIRE
F-l70 THE CHESSMEN OF MARS
F-l 71 TANAR OF PELLUCIDAR
F-l 79 PIRATES OF VENUS
F-l 80 TARZAN
AT THE EARTH'S CORE
F-181 THE MASTERMIND OF MARS
F-l 82 THE MONSTER MEN
F-l 89 TARZAN
THE INVINCIBLE
F-l90 A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
F-l93 THE SON OF TARZAN
F-194 TARZAN TRIUMPHANT
F-203 THE BEASTS OF TARZAN
F-204 TARZAN
AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR
F-205 TARZAN
AND THE CITY OF GOLD
F-206 JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN
F-212 TARZAN
AND THE LION MAN
F-213 THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT
F-220 THE PEOPLE THAT TIME FORGOT
F-221 LOST ON VENUS
F-232 THE LAND OF HIDDEN MEN
F-233 OUT OF TIME'S ABYSS
F-234 THE ETERNAL SAVAGE
F-235 THE LOST CONTINENT
F-245 BACK TO THE STONE AGE
F-247 CARSON OF VENUS
F-256 LAND OF TERROR
F-258 THE CAVE GIRL
F-268 ESCAPE ON VENUS
F-270 THE MAD KING
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F-282 BEYOND THE FARTHEST STAR
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by Homer Eon Flint F-356 (400) THE TIME AXIS
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by Ray Cummings F-364 (400) THE MIGHTIEST MACHINE
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Campbell M-132 (450) THE KING IN YELLOW
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Jan of the
Jungle
Otis Adelbcrt Kline's novels
of THE
SWORDSMAN OF MARS and
THE PLANET OF PERIL have won him a
following and a reputation for science-fiction adventure comparable to Edgar
Rice Burroughs. And like the immortal creator of Tarzan, Kline too had written
of a jungle hero battling against savage beasts and lost kingdoms in unexplored
lands.
JAN
OF THE JUNGLE is his name. Raised in strange isolation with his only companion
a great ape, Jan escaped to find himself alone against the jungle. There his
muscles and his ingenuity were to be challenged to their utmost by the mystery
of a strange lost city and the rescue of a periled princess.