Tarzan of the Apes Read online

  Chapter III

  Life and Death

  Morning found them but little, if at all refreshed, though it was witha feeling of intense relief that they saw the day dawn.

  As soon as they had made their meager breakfast of salt pork, coffeeand biscuit, Clayton commenced work upon their house, for he realizedthat they could hope for no safety and no peace of mind at night untilfour strong walls effectually barred the jungle life from them.

  The task was an arduous one and required the better part of a month,though he built but one small room. He constructed his cabin of smalllogs about six inches in diameter, stopping the chinks with clay whichhe found at the depth of a few feet beneath the surface soil.

  At one end he built a fireplace of small stones from the beach. Thesealso he set in clay and when the house had been entirely completed heapplied a coating of the clay to the entire outside surface to thethickness of four inches.

  In the window opening he set small branches about an inch in diameterboth vertically and horizontally, and so woven that they formed asubstantial grating that could withstand the strength of a powerfulanimal. Thus they obtained air and proper ventilation without fear oflessening the safety of their cabin.

  The A-shaped roof was thatched with small branches laid close togetherand over these long jungle grass and palm fronds, with a final coatingof clay.

  The door he built of pieces of the packing-boxes which had held theirbelongings, nailing one piece upon another, the grain of contiguouslayers running transversely, until he had a solid body some threeinches thick and of such great strength that they were both moved tolaughter as they gazed upon it.

  Here the greatest difficulty confronted Clayton, for he had no meanswhereby to hang his massive door now that he had built it. After twodays' work, however, he succeeded in fashioning two massive hardwoodhinges, and with these he hung the door so that it opened and closedeasily.

  The stuccoing and other final touches were added after they moved intothe house, which they had done as soon as the roof was on, piling theirboxes before the door at night and thus having a comparatively safe andcomfortable habitation.

  The building of a bed, chairs, table, and shelves was a relatively easymatter, so that by the end of the second month they were well settled,and, but for the constant dread of attack by wild beasts and the evergrowing loneliness, they were not uncomfortable or unhappy.

  At night great beasts snarled and roared about their tiny cabin, but,so accustomed may one become to oft repeated noises, that soon theypaid little attention to them, sleeping soundly the whole night through.

  Thrice had they caught fleeting glimpses of great man-like figures likethat of the first night, but never at sufficiently close range to knowpositively whether the half-seen forms were those of man or brute.

  The brilliant birds and the little monkeys had become accustomed totheir new acquaintances, and as they had evidently never seen humanbeings before they presently, after their first fright had worn off,approached closer and closer, impelled by that strange curiosity whichdominates the wild creatures of the forest and the jungle and theplain, so that within the first month several of the birds had gone sofar as even to accept morsels of food from the friendly hands of theClaytons.

  One afternoon, while Clayton was working upon an addition to theircabin, for he contemplated building several more rooms, a number oftheir grotesque little friends came shrieking and scolding through thetrees from the direction of the ridge. Ever as they fled they castfearful glances back of them, and finally they stopped near Claytonjabbering excitedly to him as though to warn him of approaching danger.

  At last he saw it, the thing the little monkeys so feared--theman-brute of which the Claytons had caught occasional fleeting glimpses.

  It was approaching through the jungle in a semi-erect position, now andthen placing the backs of its closed fists upon the ground--a greatanthropoid ape, and, as it advanced, it emitted deep guttural growlsand an occasional low barking sound.

  Clayton was at some distance from the cabin, having come to fell aparticularly perfect tree for his building operations. Grown carelessfrom months of continued safety, during which time he had seen nodangerous animals during the daylight hours, he had left his rifles andrevolvers all within the little cabin, and now that he saw the greatape crashing through the underbrush directly toward him, and from adirection which practically cut him off from escape, he felt a vaguelittle shiver play up and down his spine.

  He knew that, armed only with an ax, his chances with this ferociousmonster were small indeed--and Alice; O God, he thought, what willbecome of Alice?

  There was yet a slight chance of reaching the cabin. He turned and rantoward it, shouting an alarm to his wife to run in and close the greatdoor in case the ape cut off his retreat.

  Lady Greystoke had been sitting a little way from the cabin, and whenshe heard his cry she looked up to see the ape springing with almostincredible swiftness, for so large and awkward an animal, in an effortto head off Clayton.

  With a low cry she sprang toward the cabin, and, as she entered, gave abackward glance which filled her soul with terror, for the brute hadintercepted her husband, who now stood at bay grasping his ax with bothhands ready to swing it upon the infuriated animal when he should makehis final charge.

  "Close and bolt the door, Alice," cried Clayton. "I can finish thisfellow with my ax."

  But he knew he was facing a horrible death, and so did she.

  The ape was a great bull, weighing probably three hundred pounds. Hisnasty, close-set eyes gleamed hatred from beneath his shaggy brows,while his great canine fangs were bared in a horrid snarl as he pauseda moment before his prey.

  Over the brute's shoulder Clayton could see the doorway of his cabin,not twenty paces distant, and a great wave of horror and fear sweptover him as he saw his young wife emerge, armed with one of his rifles.

  She had always been afraid of firearms, and would never touch them, butnow she rushed toward the ape with the fearlessness of a lionessprotecting its young.

  "Back, Alice," shouted Clayton, "for God's sake, go back."

  But she would not heed, and just then the ape charged, so that Claytoncould say no more.

  The man swung his ax with all his mighty strength, but the powerfulbrute seized it in those terrible hands, and tearing it from Clayton'sgrasp hurled it far to one side.

  With an ugly snarl he closed upon his defenseless victim, but ere hisfangs had reached the throat they thirsted for, there was a sharpreport and a bullet entered the ape's back between his shoulders.

  Throwing Clayton to the ground the beast turned upon his new enemy.There before him stood the terrified girl vainly trying to fire anotherbullet into the animal's body; but she did not understand the mechanismof the firearm, and the hammer fell futilely upon an empty cartridge.

  Almost simultaneously Clayton regained his feet, and without thought ofthe utter hopelessness of it, he rushed forward to drag the ape fromhis wife's prostrate form.

  With little or no effort he succeeded, and the great bulk rolledinertly upon the turf before him--the ape was dead. The bullet haddone its work.

  A hasty examination of his wife revealed no marks upon her, and Claytondecided that the huge brute had died the instant he had sprung towardAlice.

  Gently he lifted his wife's still unconscious form, and bore her to thelittle cabin, but it was fully two hours before she regainedconsciousness.

  Her first words filled Clayton with vague apprehension. For some timeafter regaining her senses, Alice gazed wonderingly about the interiorof the little cabin, and then, with a satisfied sigh, said:

  "O, John, it is so good to be really home! I have had an awful dream,dear. I thought we were no longer in London, but in some horribleplace where great beasts attacked us."

  "There, there, Alice," he said, stroking her forehead, "try to sleepagain, and do not worry your head about bad dreams."

  That night a little son was born in the
tiny cabin beside the primevalforest, while a leopard screamed before the door, and the deep notes ofa lion's roar sounded from beyond the ridge.

  Lady Greystoke never recovered from the shock of the great ape'sattack, and, though she lived for a year after her baby was born, shewas never again outside the cabin, nor did she ever fully realize thatshe was not in England.

  Sometimes she would question Clayton as to the strange noises of thenights; the absence of servants and friends, and the strange rudenessof the furnishings within her room, but, though he made no effort todeceive her, never could she grasp the meaning of it all.

  In other ways she was quite rational, and the joy and happiness shetook in the possession of her little son and the constant attentions ofher husband made that year a very happy one for her, the happiest ofher young life.

  That it would have been beset by worries and apprehension had she beenin full command of her mental faculties Clayton well knew; so thatwhile he suffered terribly to see her so, there were times when he wasalmost glad, for her sake, that she could not understand.

  Long since had he given up any hope of rescue, except through accident.With unremitting zeal he had worked to beautify the interior of thecabin.

  Skins of lion and panther covered the floor. Cupboards and bookcaseslined the walls. Odd vases made by his own hand from the clay of theregion held beautiful tropical flowers. Curtains of grass and bamboocovered the windows, and, most arduous task of all, with his meagerassortment of tools he had fashioned lumber to neatly seal the wallsand ceiling and lay a smooth floor within the cabin.

  That he had been able to turn his hands at all to such unaccustomedlabor was a source of mild wonder to him. But he loved the workbecause it was for her and the tiny life that had come to cheer them,though adding a hundredfold to his responsibilities and to theterribleness of their situation.

  During the year that followed, Clayton was several times attacked bythe great apes which now seemed to continually infest the vicinity ofthe cabin; but as he never again ventured outside without both rifleand revolvers he had little fear of the huge beasts.

  He had strengthened the window protections and fitted a unique woodenlock to the cabin door, so that when he hunted for game and fruits, asit was constantly necessary for him to do to insure sustenance, he hadno fear that any animal could break into the little home.

  At first he shot much of the game from the cabin windows, but towardthe end the animals learned to fear the strange lair from whence issuedthe terrifying thunder of his rifle.

  In his leisure Clayton read, often aloud to his wife, from the store ofbooks he had brought for their new home. Among these were many forlittle children--picture books, primers, readers--for they had knownthat their little child would be old enough for such before they mighthope to return to England.

  At other times Clayton wrote in his diary, which he had always beenaccustomed to keep in French, and in which he recorded the details oftheir strange life. This book he kept locked in a little metal box.

  A year from the day her little son was born Lady Alice passed quietlyaway in the night. So peaceful was her end that it was hours beforeClayton could awake to a realization that his wife was dead.

  The horror of the situation came to him very slowly, and it is doubtfulthat he ever fully realized the enormity of his sorrow and the fearfulresponsibility that had devolved upon him with the care of that weething, his son, still a nursing babe.

  The last entry in his diary was made the morning following her death,and there he recites the sad details in a matter-of-fact way that addsto the pathos of it; for it breathes a tired apathy born of long sorrowand hopelessness, which even this cruel blow could scarcely awake tofurther suffering:

  My little son is crying for nourishment--O Alice, Alice, what shall Ido?

  And as John Clayton wrote the last words his hand was destined ever topen, he dropped his head wearily upon his outstretched arms where theyrested upon the table he had built for her who lay still and cold inthe bed beside him.

  For a long time no sound broke the deathlike stillness of the junglemidday save the piteous wailing of the tiny man-child.