The Return of Tarzan, Edgar Rice Burroughs [chromebook ebook reader TXT] 📗

The brute he had addressed stopped with a look of half-comprehending, dull wonderment upon his savage face.

“And Magor,” continued Tarzan, addressing another, “do you not recall your former king⁠—he who slew the mighty Kerchak? Look at me! Am I not the same Tarzan⁠—mighty hunter⁠—invincible fighter⁠—that you all knew for many seasons?”

The apes all crowded forward now, but more in curiosity than threatening. They muttered among themselves for a few moments.

“What do you want among us now?” asked Karnath.

“Only peace,” answered the ape-man.

Again the apes conferred. At length Karnath spoke again.

“Come in peace, then, Tarzan of the Apes,” he said.

And so Tarzan of the Apes dropped lightly to the turf into the midst of the fierce and hideous horde⁠—he had completed the cycle of evolution, and had returned to be once again a brute among brutes.

There were no greetings such as would have taken place among men after a separation of two years. The majority of the apes went on about the little activities that the advent of the ape-man had interrupted, paying no further attention to him than as though he had not been gone from the tribe at all.

One or two young bulls who had not been old enough to remember him sidled up on all fours to sniff at him, and one bared his fangs and growled threateningly⁠—he wished to put Tarzan immediately into his proper place. Had Tarzan backed off, growling, the young bull would quite probably have been satisfied, but always after Tarzan’s station among his fellow apes would have been beneath that of the bull which had made him step aside.

But Tarzan of the Apes did not back off. Instead, he swung his giant palm with all the force of his mighty muscles, and, catching the young bull alongside the head, sent him sprawling across the turf. The ape was up and at him again in a second, and this time they closed with tearing fingers and rending fangs⁠—or at least that had been the intention of the young bull; but scarcely had they gone down, growling and snapping, than the ape-man’s fingers found the throat of his antagonist.

Presently the young bull ceased to struggle, and lay quite still. Then Tarzan released his hold and arose⁠—he did not wish to kill, only to teach the young ape, and others who might be watching, that Tarzan of the Apes was still master.

The lesson served its purpose⁠—the young apes kept out of his way, as young apes should when their betters were about, and the old bulls made no attempt to encroach upon his prerogatives. For several days the she-apes with young remained suspicious of him, and when he ventured too near rushed upon him with wide mouths and hideous roars. Then Tarzan discreetly skipped out of harm’s way, for that also is a custom among the apes⁠—only mad bulls will attack a mother. But after a while even they became accustomed to him.

He hunted with them as in days gone by, and when they found that his superior reason guided him to the best food sources, and that his cunning rope ensnared toothsome game that they seldom if ever tasted, they came again to look up to him as they had in the past after he had become their king. And so it was that before they left the amphitheater to return to their wanderings they had once more chosen him as their leader.

The ape-man felt quite contented with his new lot. He was not happy⁠—that he never could be again, but he was at least as far from everything that might remind him of his past misery as he could be. Long since he had given up every intention of returning to civilization, and now he had decided to see no more his black friends of the Waziri. He had foresworn humanity forever. He had started life an ape⁠—as an ape he would die.

He could not, however, erase from his memory the fact that the woman he loved was within a short journey of the stamping-ground of his tribe; nor could he banish the haunting fear that she might be constantly in danger. That she was illy protected he had seen in the brief instant that had witnessed Clayton’s inefficiency. The more Tarzan thought of it, the more keenly his conscience pricked him.

Finally he came to loathe himself for permitting his own selfish sorrow and jealousy to stand between Jane Porter and safety. As the days passed the thing preyed more and more upon his mind, and he had about determined to return to the coast and place himself on guard over Jane Porter and Clayton, when news reached him that altered all his plans and sent him dashing madly toward the east in reckless disregard of accident and death.

Before Tarzan had returned to the tribe, a certain young bull, not being able to secure a mate from among his own people, had, according to custom, fared forth through the wild jungle, like some knight-errant of old, to win a fair lady from some neighboring community.

He had but just returned with his bride, and was narrating his adventures quickly before he should forget them. Among other things he told of seeing a great tribe of strange-looking apes.

“They were all hairy-faced bulls but one,” he said, “and that one was a she, lighter in color even than this stranger,” and he chucked a thumb at Tarzan.

The ape-man was all attention in an instant. He asked questions as rapidly as the slow-witted anthropoid could answer them.

“Were the bulls short, with crooked legs?”

“They were.”

“Did they wear the skins of Numa and Sheeta about their loins, and carry sticks and knives?”

“They did.”

“And were there many yellow rings about their arms and legs?”

“Yes.”

“And the she one⁠—was she small and slender, and very white?”

“Yes.”

“Did she seem to be one of the tribe, or was she a prisoner?”

“They dragged her along⁠—sometimes by an arm⁠—sometimes by the long hair that grew upon her head; and always they kicked and beat her. Oh, but