Tarzan Becomes a Beast Again
For a moment Werper had stood above the sleeping ape-man, his murderous knife poised for the fatal thrust;
but fear stayed his hand.What if the first blow should fail to drive the point to his victim's heart?
Werper shuddered in contemplation of the disastrous consequences to himself.Awakened, and even with a few moments of life remaining, the giant could literally tear his assailant to pieces should he choose, and the Belgian had no doubt but that Tarzan would so choose.
Again came the soft sound of padded footsteps in the reeds--closer this time.Werper abandoned his design.
Before him stretched the wide plain and escape.
The jewels were in his possession.To remain longer was to risk death at the hands of Tarzan, or the jaws of the hunter creeping ever nearer.Turning, he slunk away through the night, toward the distant forest.
Tarzan slept on.Where were those uncanny, guardian powers that had formerly rendered him immune from the dangers of surprise? Could this dull sleeper be the alert, sensitive Tarzan of old?
Perhaps the blow upon his head had numbed his senses, temporarily--who may say? Closer crept the stealthy creature through the reeds.The rustling curtain of vegetation parted a few paces from where the sleeper lay, and the massive head of a lion appeared.The beast surveyed the ape-man intently for a moment, then he crouched, his hind feet drawn well beneath him, his tail lashing from side to side.
It was the beating of the beast's tail against the reeds which awakened Tarzan.Jungle folk do not awaken slowly--instantly, full consciousness and full command of their every faculty returns to them from the depth of profound slumber.
Even as Tarzan opened his eyes he was upon his feet, his spear grasped firmly in his hand and ready for attack.Again was he Tarzan of the Apes, sentient, vigilant, ready.
No two lions have identical characteristics, nor does the same lion invariably act similarly under like circumstances.Whether it was surprise, fear or caution which prompted the lion crouching ready to spring upon the man, is immaterial--the fact remains that he did not carry out his original design, he did not spring at the man at all, but, instead, wheeled and sprang back into the reeds as Tarzan arose and confronted him.
The ape-man shrugged his broad shoulders and looked about for his companion.Werper was nowhere to be seen.At first Tarzan suspected that the man had been seized and dragged off by another lion, but upon examination of the ground he soon discovered that the Belgian had gone away alone out into the plain.
For a moment he was puzzled; but presently came to the conclusion that Werper had been frightened by the approach of the lion, and had sneaked off in terror.
A sneer touched Tarzan's lips as he pondered the man's act--the desertion of a comrade in time of danger, and without warning.Well, if that was the sort of creature Werper was, Tarzan wished nothing more of him.
He had gone, and for all the ape-man cared, he might remain away--Tarzan would not search for him.
A hundred yards from where he stood grew a large tree, alone upon the edge of the reedy jungle.Tarzan made his way to it, clambered into it, and finding a comfortable crotch among its branches, reposed himself for uninterrupted sleep until morning.
And when morning came Tarzan slept on long after the sun had risen.His mind, reverted to the primitive, was untroubled by any more serious obligations than those of providing sustenance, and safeguarding his life.
Therefore, there was nothing to awaken for until danger threatened, or the pangs of hunger assailed.
It was the latter which eventually aroused him.
Opening his eyes, he stretched his giant thews, yawned, rose and gazed about him through the leafy foliage of his retreat.Across the wasted meadowlands and fields of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, Tarzan of the Apes looked, as a stranger, upon the moving figures of Basuli and his braves as they prepared their morning meal and made ready to set out upon the expedition which Basuli had planned after discovering the havoc and disaster which had befallen the estate of his dead master.
The ape-man eyed the blacks with curiosity.
In the back of his brain loitered a fleeting sense of familiarity with all that he saw, yet he could not connect any of the various forms of life, animate and inanimate, which had fallen within the range of his vision since he had emerged from the darkness of the pits of Opar, with any particular event of the past.
Hazily he recalled a grim and hideous form, hairy, ferocious.A vague tenderness dominated his savage sentiments as this phantom memory struggled for recognition.His mind had reverted to his childhood days--it was the figure of the giant she-ape, Kala, that he saw; but only half recognized.He saw, too, other grotesque, manlike forms.They were of Terkoz, Tublat, Kerchak, and a smaller, less ferocious figure, that was Neeta, the little playmate of his boyhood.
Slowly, very slowly, as these visions of the past animated his lethargic memory, he came to recognize them.They took definite shape and form, adjusting themselves nicely to the various incidents of his life with which they had been intimately connected.His boyhood among the apes spread itself in a slow panorama before him, and as it unfolded it induced within him a mighty longing for the companionship of the shaggy, low-browed brutes of his past.
He watched the blacks scatter their cook fire and depart; but though the face of each of them had but recently been as familiar to him as his own, they awakened within him no recollections whatsoever.
