Tarzan the Untamed Read online

  Produced by Judith Boss

  Tarzan the Untamed

  By

  Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I Murder and Pillage II The Lion's Cave III In the German Lines IV When the Lion Fed V The Golden Locket VI Vengeance and Mercy VII When Blood Told VIII Tarzan and the Great Apes IX Dropped from the Sky X In the Hands of Savages XI Finding the Airplane XII The Black Flier XIII Usanga's Reward XIV The Black Lion XV Mysterious Footprints XVI The Night Attack XVII The Walled City XVIII Among the Maniacs XIX The Queen's Story XX Came Tarzan XXI In the Alcove XXII Out of the Niche XXIII The Flight from Xuja XXIV The Tommies

  Chapter I

  Murder and Pillage

  Hauptmann Fritz Schneider trudged wearily through the somber aislesof the dark forest. Sweat rolled down his bullet head and stoodupon his heavy jowls and bull neck. His lieutenant marched besidehim while Underlieutenant von Goss brought up the rear, followingwith a handful of askaris the tired and all but exhausted porterswhom the black soldiers, following the example of their white officer,encouraged with the sharp points of bayonets and the metal-shodbutts of rifles.

  There were no porters within reach of Hauptmann Schneider so hevented his Prussian spleen upon the askaris nearest at hand, yetwith greater circumspection since these men bore loaded rifles--andthe three white men were alone with them in the heart of Africa.

  Ahead of the hauptmann marched half his company, behind him theother half--thus were the dangers of the savage jungle minimizedfor the German captain. At the forefront of the column staggeredtwo naked savages fastened to each other by a neck chain. Thesewere the native guides impressed into the service of Kultur and upontheir poor, bruised bodies Kultur's brand was revealed in diverscruel wounds and bruises.

  Thus even in darkest Africa was the light of German civilizationcommencing to reflect itself upon the undeserving natives just asat the same period, the fall of 1914, it was shedding its gloriouseffulgence upon benighted Belgium.

  It is true that the guides had led the party astray; but this isthe way of most African guides. Nor did it matter that ignorancerather than evil intent had been the cause of their failure. Itwas enough for Hauptmann Fritz Schneider to know that he was lostin the African wilderness and that he had at hand human beings lesspowerful than he who could be made to suffer by torture. That hedid not kill them outright was partially due to a faint hope thatthey might eventually prove the means of extricating him from hisdifficulties and partially that so long as they lived they mightstill be made to suffer.

  The poor creatures, hoping that chance might lead them at lastupon the right trail, insisted that they knew the way and so ledon through a dismal forest along a winding game trail trodden deepby the feet of countless generations of the savage denizens of thejungle.

  Here Tantor, the elephant, took his long way from dust wallow towater. Here Buto, the rhinoceros, blundered blindly in his solitarymajesty, while by night the great cats paced silently upon theirpadded feet beneath the dense canopy of overreaching trees towardthe broad plain beyond, where they found their best hunting.

  It was at the edge of this plain which came suddenly and unexpectedlybefore the eyes of the guides that their sad hearts beat withrenewed hope. Here the hauptmann drew a deep sigh of relief, forafter days of hopeless wandering through almost impenetrable junglethe broad vista of waving grasses dotted here and there with openpark like woods and in the far distance the winding line of greenshrubbery that denoted a river appeared to the European a veritableheaven.

  The Hun smiled in his relief, passed a cheery word with his lieutenant,and then scanned the broad plain with his field glasses. Back andforth they swept across the rolling land until at last they cameto rest upon a point near the center of the landscape and close tothe green-fringed contours of the river.

  "We are in luck," said Schneider to his companions. "Do you seeit?"

  The lieutenant, who was also gazing through his own glasses,finally brought them to rest upon the same spot that had held theattention of his superior.

  "Yes," he said, "an English farm. It must be Greystoke's, for thereis none other in this part of British East Africa. God is with us,Herr Captain."

  "We have come upon the English schweinhund long before he can havelearned that his country is at war with ours," replied Schneider."Let him be the first to feel the iron hand of Germany."

  "Let us hope that he is at home," said the lieutenant, "that wemay take him with us when we report to Kraut at Nairobi. It willgo well indeed with Herr Hauptmann Fritz Schneider if he brings inthe famous Tarzan of the Apes as a prisoner of war."

  Schneider smiled and puffed out his chest. "You are right, myfriend," he said, "it will go well with both of us; but I shallhave to travel far to catch General Kraut before he reaches Mombasa.These English pigs with their contemptible army will make good timeto the Indian Ocean."

  It was in a better frame of mind that the small force set out acrossthe open country toward the trim and well-kept farm buildings ofJohn Clayton, Lord Greystoke; but disappointment was to be theirlot since neither Tarzan of the Apes nor his son was at home.

  Lady Jane, ignorant of the fact that a state of war existed betweenGreat Britain and Germany, welcomed the officers most hospitablyand gave orders through her trusted Waziri to prepare a feast forthe black soldiers of the enemy.

  Far to the east, Tarzan of the Apes was traveling rapidly fromNairobi toward the farm. At Nairobi he had received news of theWorld War that had already started, and, anticipating an immediateinvasion of British East Africa by the Germans, was hurrying homewardto fetch his wife to a place of greater security. With him were ascore of his ebon warriors, but far too slow for the ape-man wasthe progress of these trained and hardened woodsmen.

  When necessity demanded, Tarzan of the Apes sloughed the thinveneer of his civilization and with it the hampering apparel thatwas its badge. In a moment the polished English gentleman revertedto the naked ape man.

  His mate was in danger. For the time, that single thought dominated.He did not think of her as Lady Jane Greystoke, but rather as theshe he had won by the might of his steel thews, and that he musthold and protect by virtue of the same offensive armament.

  It was no member of the House of Lords who swung swiftly and grimlythrough the tangled forest or trod with untiring muscles the widestretches of open plain--it was a great he ape filled with a singlepurpose that excluded all thoughts of fatigue or danger.

  Little Manu, the monkey, scolding and chattering in the upperterraces of the forest, saw him pass. Long had it been since he hadthus beheld the great Tarmangani naked and alone hurtling throughthe jungle. Bearded and gray was Manu, the monkey, and to his dimold eyes came the fire of recollection of those days when Tarzanof the Apes had ruled supreme, Lord of the Jungle, over all themyriad life that trod the matted vegetation between the boles ofthe great trees, or flew or swung or climbed in the leafy fastnessupward to the very apex of the loftiest terraces.

  And Numa, the lion, lying up for the day close beside last night'ssuccessful kill, blinked his yellow-green eyes and twitched histawny tail as he caught the scent spoor of his ancient enemy.

  Nor was Tarzan senseless to the presence of Numa or Manu or any ofthe many jungle beasts he passed in his rapid flight towards thewest. No particle had his shallow probing of English society dulledhis marvelous sense faculties. His nose had picked out the presenceof Numa, the lion, even before the majestic king of beasts wasaware of his passing.

  He had heard noisy little Manu, and even the soft rustling of theparting shrubbery where Sheeta passed before either of these alertanimals sensed his presence.

 
But however keen the senses of the ape-man, however swift hisprogress through the wild country of his adoption, however mightythe muscles that bore him, he was still mortal. Time and spaceplaced their inexorable limits upon him; nor was there another whorealized this truth more keenly than Tarzan. He chafed and frettedthat he could not travel with the swiftness of thought and that thelong tedious miles stretching far ahead of him must require hoursand hours of tireless effort upon his part before he would swingat last from the final bough of the fringing forest into the openplain and in sight of his goal.

  Days it took, even though he lay up at night for but a few hoursand left to chance the finding of meat directly on his trail. IfWappi, the antelope, or Horta, the boar, chanced in his way whenhe was hungry, he ate, pausing but long enough to make the killand cut himself a steak.

  Then at last the long journey drew to its close and he was passingthrough the last stretch of heavy forest that bounded his estateupon the east, and then this was traversed and he stood upon theplain's edge looking out across his broad lands towards his home.

  At the first glance his eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed. Evenat that distance he could see that something was amiss. A thinspiral of smoke arose at the right of the bungalow where the barnshad stood, but there were no barns there now, and from the bungalowchimney from which smoke should have arisen, there arose nothing.

  Once again Tarzan of the Apes was speeding onward, this time evenmore swiftly than before, for he was goaded now by a nameless fear,more product of intuition than of reason. Even as the beasts,Tarzan of the Apes seemed to possess a sixth sense. Long before hereached the bungalow, he had almost pictured the scene that finallybroke upon his view.

  Silent and deserted was the vine-covered cottage. Smoldering embersmarked the site of his great barns. Gone were the thatched huts ofhis sturdy retainers, empty the fields, the pastures, and corrals.Here and there vultures rose and circled above the carcasses ofmen and beasts.

  It was with a feeling as nearly akin to terror as he ever hadexperienced that the ape-man finally forced himself to enter hishome. The first sight that met his eyes set the red haze of hateand bloodlust across his vision, for there, crucified against thewall of the living-room, was Wasimbu, giant son of the faithfulMuviro and for over a year the personal bodyguard of Lady Jane.

  The overturned and shattered furniture of the room, the brown poolsof dried blood upon the floor, and prints of bloody hands on wallsand woodwork evidenced something of the frightfulness of the battlethat had been waged within the narrow confines of the apartment.Across the baby grand piano lay the corpse of another black warrior,while before the door of Lady Jane's boudoir were the dead bodiesof three more of the faithful Greystoke servants.

  The door of this room was closed. With drooping shoulders and dulleyes Tarzan stood gazing dumbly at the insensate panel which hidfrom him what horrid secret he dared not even guess.

  Slowly, with leaden feet, he moved toward the door. Gropingly hishand reached for the knob. Thus he stood for another long minute,and then with a sudden gesture he straightened his giant frame,threw back his mighty shoulders and, with fearless head held high,swung back the door and stepped across the threshold into theroom which held for him the dearest memories and associations ofhis life. No change of expression crossed his grim and stern-setfeatures as he strode across the room and stood beside the littlecouch and the inanimate form which lay face downward upon it; thestill, silent thing that had pulsed with life and youth and love.

  No tear dimmed the eye of the ape-man, but the God who made him alonecould know the thoughts that passed through that still half-savagebrain. For a long time he stood there just looking down upon thedead body, charred beyond recognition, and then he stooped and liftedit in his arms. As he turned the body over and saw how horriblydeath had been meted he plumbed, in that instant, the uttermostdepths of grief and horror and hatred.

  Nor did he require the evidence of the broken German rifle in theouter room, or the torn and blood-stained service cap upon thefloor, to tell him who had been the perpetrators of this horridand useless crime.

  For a moment he had hoped against hope that the blackened corpse wasnot that of his mate, but when his eyes discovered and recognizedthe rings upon her fingers the last faint ray of hope forsook him.

  In silence, in love, and in reverence he buried, in the littlerose garden that had been Jane Clayton's pride and love, the poor,charred form and beside it the great black warriors who had giventheir lives so futilely in their mistress' protection.

  At one side of the house Tarzan found other newly made gravesand in these he sought final evidence of the identity of the realperpetrators of the atrocities that had been committed there inhis absence.

  Here he disinterred the bodies of a dozen German askaris and foundupon their uniforms the insignia of the company and regiment towhich they had belonged. This was enough for the ape-man. Whiteofficers had commanded these men, nor would it be a difficult taskto discover who they were.

  Returning to the rose garden, he stood among the Hun trampledblooms and bushes above the grave of his dead--with bowed head hestood there in a last mute farewell. As the sun sank slowly behindthe towering forests of the west, he turned slowly away upon thestill-distinct trail of Hauptmann Fritz Schneider and his blood-stainedcompany.

  His was the suffering of the dumb brute--mute; but though voicelessno less poignant. At first his vast sorrow numbed his other facultiesof thought--his brain was overwhelmed by the calamity to such anextent that it reacted to but a single objective suggestion: She isdead! She is dead! She is dead! Again and again this phrase beatmonotonously upon his brain--a dull, throbbing pain, yet mechanicallyhis feet followed the trail of her slayer while, subconsciously,his every sense was upon the alert for the ever-present perils ofthe jungle.

  Gradually the labor of his great grief brought forth anotheremotion so real, so tangible, that it seemed a companion walkingat his side. It was Hate--and it brought to him a measure of solaceand of comfort, for it was a sublime hate that ennobled him asit has ennobled countless thousands since--hatred for Germany andGermans. It centered about the slayer of his mate, of course; butit included everything German, animate or inanimate. As the thoughttook firm hold upon him he paused and raising his face to Goro, themoon, cursed with upraised hand the authors of the hideous crimethat had been perpetrated in that once peaceful bungalow behindhim; and he cursed their progenitors, their progeny, and all theirkind the while he took silent oath to war upon them relentlesslyuntil death overtook him.

  There followed almost immediately a feeling of content, for, wherebefore his future at best seemed but a void, now it was filledwith possibilities the contemplation of which brought him, if nothappiness, at least a surcease of absolute grief, for before himlay a great work that would occupy his time.

  Stripped not only of all the outward symbols of civilization, Tarzanhad also reverted morally and mentally to the status of the savagebeast he had been reared. Never had his civilization been more thana veneer put on for the sake of her he loved because he thought itmade her happier to see him thus. In reality he had always held theoutward evidences of so-called culture in deep contempt. Civilizationmeant to Tarzan of the Apes a curtailment of freedom in all itsaspects--freedom of action, freedom of thought, freedom of love,freedom of hate. Clothes he abhorred--uncomfortable, hideous,confining things that reminded him somehow of bonds securing him tothe life he had seen the poor creatures of London and Paris living.Clothes were the emblems of that hypocrisy for which civilizationstood--a pretense that the wearers were ashamed of what the clothescovered, of the human form made in the semblance of God. Tarzanknew how silly and pathetic the lower orders of animals appeared inthe clothing of civilization, for he had seen several poor creaturesthus appareled in various traveling shows in Europe, and he knew,too, how silly and pathetic man appears in them since the only menhe had seen in the first twenty years of his life had been, likehimself, naked savages. The ape-man had a keen
admiration for awell-muscled, well-proportioned body, whether lion, or antelope,or man, and it had ever been beyond him to understand how clothescould be considered more beautiful than a clear, firm, healthyskin, or coat and trousers more graceful than the gentle curves ofrounded muscles playing beneath a flexible hide.

  In civilization Tarzan had found greed and selfishness and crueltyfar beyond that which he had known in his familiar, savage jungle,and though civilization had given him his mate and several friendswhom he loved and admired, he never had come to accept it as youand I who have known little or nothing else; so it was with a senseof relief that he now definitely abandoned it and all that it stoodfor, and went forth into the jungle once again stripped to his loincloth and weapons.

  The hunting knife of his father hung at his left hip, his bow andhis quiver of arrows were slung across his shoulders, while aroundhis chest over one shoulder and beneath the opposite arm was coiledthe long grass rope without which Tarzan would have felt quite asnaked as would you should you be suddenly thrust upon a busy highwayclad only in a union suit. A heavy war spear which he sometimescarried in one hand and again slung by a thong about his neck sothat it hung down his back completed his armament and his apparel.The diamond-studded locket with the pictures of his mother andfather that he had worn always until he had given it as a tokenof his highest devotion to Jane Clayton before their marriage wasmissing. She always had worn it since, but it had not been uponher body when he found her slain in her boudoir, so that now hisquest for vengeance included also a quest for the stolen trinket.

  Toward midnight Tarzan commenced to feel the physical strain ofhis long hours of travel and to realize that even muscles such ashis had their limitations. His pursuit of the murderers had notbeen characterized by excessive speed; but rather more in keepingwith his mental attitude, which was marked by a dogged determinationto require from the Germans more than an eye for an eye and morethan a tooth for a tooth, the element of time entering but slightlyinto his calculations.

  Inwardly as well as outwardly Tarzan had reverted to beast and inthe lives of beasts, time, as a measurable aspect of duration, hasno meaning. The beast is actively interested only in NOW, and asit is always NOW and always shall be, there is an eternity of timefor the accomplishment of objects. The ape-man, naturally, had aslightly more comprehensive realization of the limitations of time;but, like the beasts, he moved with majestic deliberation when noemergency prompted him to swift action.

  Having dedicated his life to vengeance, vengeance became his naturalstate and, therefore, no emergency, so he took his time in pursuit.That he had not rested earlier was due to the fact that he hadfelt no fatigue, his mind being occupied by thoughts of sorrow andrevenge; but now he realized that he was tired, and so he soughta jungle giant that had harbored him upon more than a single otherjungle night.

  Dark clouds moving swiftly across the heavens now and again eclipsedthe bright face of Goro, the moon, and forewarned the ape-manof impending storm. In the depth of the jungle the cloud shadowsproduced a thick blackness that might almost be felt--a blacknessthat to you and me might have proven terrifying with its accompanimentof rustling leaves and cracking twigs, and its even more suggestiveintervals of utter silence in which the crudest of imaginationsmight have conjured crouching beasts of prey tensed for the fatalcharge; but through it Tarzan passed unconcerned, yet always alert.Now he swung lightly to the lower terraces of the overarchingtrees when some subtle sense warned him that Numa lay upon a killdirectly in his path, or again he sprang lightly to one side asButo, the rhinoceros, lumbered toward him along the narrow, deep-worntrail, for the ape-man, ready to fight upon necessity's slightestpretext, avoided unnecessary quarrels.

  When he swung himself at last into the tree he sought, the moon wasobscured by a heavy cloud, and the tree tops were waving wildly ina steadily increasing wind whose soughing drowned the lesser noisesof the jungle. Upward went Tarzan toward a sturdy crotch across whichhe long since had laid and secured a little platform of branches.It was very dark now, darker even than it had been before, foralmost the entire sky was overcast by thick, black clouds.

  Presently the man-beast paused, his sensitive nostrils dilating ashe sniffed the air about him. Then, with the swiftness and agility ofa cat, he leaped far outward upon a swaying branch, sprang upwardthrough the darkness, caught another, swung himself upon it andthen to one still higher. What could have so suddenly transformedhis matter-of-fact ascent of the giant bole to the swift and waryaction of his detour among the branches? You or I could have seennothing--not even the little platform that an instant before hadbeen just above him and which now was immediately below--but as heswung above it we should have heard an ominous growl; and then asthe moon was momentarily uncovered, we should have seen both theplatform, dimly, and a dark mass that lay stretched upon it--a darkmass that presently, as our eyes became accustomed to the lesserdarkness, would take the form of Sheeta, the panther.

  In answer to the cat's growl, a low and equally ferocious growlrumbled upward from the ape-man's deep chest--a growl of warningthat told the panther he was trespassing upon the other's lair; butSheeta was in no mood to be dispossessed. With upturned, snarlingface he glared at the brown-skinned Tarmangani above him. Very slowlythe ape-man moved inward along the branch until he was directlyabove the panther. In the man's hand was the hunting knife of hislong-dead father--the weapon that had first given him his realascendancy over the beasts of the jungle; but he hoped not to beforced to use it, knowing as he did that more jungle battles weresettled by hideous growling than by actual combat, the law of bluffholding quite as good in the jungle as elsewhere--only in mattersof love and food did the great beasts ordinarily close with fangsand talons.

  Tarzan braced himself against the bole of the tree and leaned closertoward Sheeta.

  "Stealer of balus!" he cried. The panther rose to a sitting position,his bared fangs but a few feet from the ape-man's taunting face.Tarzan growled hideously and struck at the cat's face with hisknife. "I am Tarzan of the Apes," he roared. "This is Tarzan'slair. Go, or I will kill you."

  Though he spoke in the language of the great apes of the jungle,it is doubtful that Sheeta understood the words, though he knewwell enough that the hairless ape wished to frighten him from hiswell-chosen station past which edible creatures might be expectedto wander sometime during the watches of the night.

  Like lightning the cat reared and struck a vicious blow at histormentor with great, bared talons that might well have torn awaythe ape-man's face had the blow landed; but it did not land--Tarzanwas even quicker than Sheeta. As the panther came to all foursagain upon the little platform, Tarzan un-slung his heavy spear andprodded at the snarling face, and as Sheeta warded off the blows,the two continued their horrid duet of blood-curdling roars andgrowls.

  Goaded to frenzy the cat presently determined to come up after thisdisturber of his peace; but when he essayed to leap to the branchthat held Tarzan he found the sharp spear point always in hisface, and each time as he dropped back he was prodded viciously insome tender part; but at length, rage having conquered his betterjudgment, he leaped up the rough bole to the very branch upon whichTarzan stood. Now the two faced each other upon even footing andSheeta saw a quick revenge and a supper all in one. The hairlessape-thing with the tiny fangs and the puny talons would be helplessbefore him.

  The heavy limb bent beneath the weight of the two beasts as Sheetacrept cautiously out upon it and Tarzan backed slowly away, growling.The wind had risen to the proportions of a gale so that even thegreatest giants of the forest swayed, groaning, to its force andthe branch upon which the two faced each other rose and fell likethe deck of a storm-tossed ship. Goro was now entirely obscured,but vivid flashes of lightning lit up the jungle at brief intervals,revealing the grim tableau of primitive passion upon the swayinglimb.

  Tarzan backed away, drawing Sheeta farther from the stem of thetree and out upon the tapering branch, where his footing becameever more precarious. The cat, infuri
ated by the pain of spearwounds, was overstepping the bounds of caution. Already he hadreached a point where he could do little more than maintain a securefooting, and it was this moment that Tarzan chose to charge. Witha roar that mingled with the booming thunder from above he leapedtoward the panther, who could only claw futilely with one huge pawwhile he clung to the branch with the other; but the ape-man didnot come within that parabola of destruction. Instead he leapedabove menacing claws and snapping fangs, turning in mid-air andalighting upon Sheeta's back, and at the instant of impact his knifestruck deep into the tawny side. Then Sheeta, impelled by pain andhate and rage and the first law of Nature, went mad. Screamingand clawing he attempted to turn upon the ape-thing clinging tohis back. For an instant he toppled upon the now wildly gyratinglimb, clutched frantically to save himself, and then plunged downwardinto the darkness with Tarzan still clinging to him. Crashingthrough splintering branches the two fell. Not for an instant didthe ape-man consider relinquishing his death-hold upon his adversary.He had entered the lists in mortal combat and true to the primitiveinstincts of the wild--the unwritten law of the jungle--one or bothmust die before the battle ended.

  Sheeta, catlike, alighted upon four out-sprawled feet, the weightof the ape-man crushing him to earth, the long knife again imbeddedin his side. Once the panther struggled to rise; but only to sinkto earth again. Tarzan felt the giant muscles relax beneath him.Sheeta was dead. Rising, the ape-man placed a foot upon the body ofhis vanquished foe, raised his face toward the thundering heavens,and as the lightning flashed and the torrential rain broke uponhim, screamed forth the wild victory cry of the bull ape.

  Having accomplished his aim and driven the enemy from his lair,Tarzan gathered an armful of large fronds and climbed to his drippingcouch. Laying a few of the fronds upon the poles he lay down andcovered himself against the rain with the others, and despite thewailing of the wind and the crashing of the thunder, immediatelyfell asleep.