CHAPTER V



THE FATAL DROPS


At home, the life in the bungalow and at the farm followed
its usual routine as it had before the departure of Tarzan.
Korak, sometimes on foot and sometimes on horseback,
followed the activities of the farm hands and the herders,
sometimes alone, but more often in company with the white
foreman, Jervis, and often, especially when they rode, Jane
accompanied them.

The golden lion Korak exercised upon a leash, since he was
not at all confident of his powers of control over the
beast, and feared lest, in the absence of his master,
Jad-bal-ja might take to the forest and revert to his
natural savage state. Such a lion, abroad in the jungle,
would be a distinct menace to human life, for Jad-bal-ja,
reared among men, lacked that natural timidity of men that
is so marked a trait of all wild beasts. Trained as he had
been to make his kill at the throat of a human effigy, it
required no considerable powers of imagination upon the part
of Korak to visualize what might occur should the golden
lion, loosed from all restraint, be thrown upon his own
resources in the surrounding jungle.

It was during the first week of Tarzan's absence that a
runner from Nairobi brought a cable message to Lady
Greystoke, announcing the serious illness of her father in
London. Mother and son discussed the situation. It would be
five or six weeks before Tarzan could return, even if they
sent a runner after him, and, were Jane to await him, there
would be little likelihood of her reaching her father in
time. Even should she depart at once, there seemed only a
faint hope that she would arrive early enough to see him
alive. It was decided, therefore, that she should set out
immediately, Korak accompanying her as far as Nairobi, and
then returning to the ranch and resuming its general
supervision until his father's return.

It is a long trek from the Greystoke estate to Nairobi, and
Korak had not yet returned when, about three weeks after
Tarzan's departure, a black, whose duty it was to feed and
care for Jad-bal-ja, carelessly left the door of the cage
unfastened while he was cleaning it. The golden lion paced
back and forth while the black wielded his broom within the
cage. They were old friends, and the Waziri felt no fear of
the great lion, with the result that his back was as often
turned to him as not. The black was working in the far
corner of the cage when Jad-bal-ja paused a moment at the
door at the opposite end. The beast saw that the gate hung
slightly ajar upon its hinges. Silently he raised a great
padded paw and inserted it in the opening--a slight pull
and the gate swung in.

Instantly the golden lion inserted his snout in the widened
aperture, and as he swung the barrier aside the horrified
black looked up to see his charge drop softly to the ground
outside.

"Stop! Jad-bal-ja!  Stop!"  screamed the frightened black,
leaping after him. But the golden lion only increased his
pace, and leaping the fence, loped off in the direction of
the forest.

The black pursued him with brandishing broom, emitting loud
yells that brought the inmates of the Waziri huts into the
open, where they joined their fellow in pursuit of the lion.
Across the rolling plains they followed him, but as well
have sought to snare the elusive will-o'-the-wisp as this
swift and wary fugitive, who heeded neither their
blandishments nor their threats.  And so it was that they
saw the golden lion disappear into the primeval forest and,
though they searched diligently until almost dark, they were
forced at length to give up their quest and return
crestfallen to the farm.

Ah," cried the unhappy black, who had been responsible for
the escape of Jad-bal-ja, "what will the Big Bwana say to
me, what will he do to me when he finds that I have
permitted the golden lion to get away!"

"You will be banished from the bungalow for a long time,
Keewazi," old Muviro assured him. "And doubtless you will be
sent to the grazing ground far to the east to guard the herd
there, where. you will have plenty of lions for company,
though they will not be as friendly as was Jad-bal-ja. It is
not half what you deserve, and were the heart of the Big
Bwana not filled with love for his black children--were he
like other white Bwanas old Muviro has seen--you would be
lashed until you could not stand, perhaps until you died."

"I am a man," replied Keewazi. "I am a warrior and a Waziri.
Whatever punishment the Big Bwana inflicts I will accept as
a man should."

It was that same night that Tarzan approached the camp-fires
of the strange party he had been tracking. Unseen by them,
he halted in the foliage of a tree directly in the center of
their camp, which was surrounded by an enormous thorn boma,
and brilliantly lighted by numerous fires which blacks were
diligently feeding with branches from an enormous pile of
firewood that they had evidently gathered earlier in the day
for this purpose. Near the center of the camp were several
tents, and before one, in the light of a fire, sat four
white men. Two of them were great, bull-necked, red-faced
fellows, apparently Englishmen of the lower class, the third
appeared to be a short, fat, German Jew, while the fourth
was a tall, slender, handsome fellow, with dark, wavy brown
hair and regular features. He and the German were most
meticulously garbed for Central African traveling, after the
highly idealized standard of motion pictures, in fact either
one of them might have stepped directly from a screening of
the latest jungle thriller. The young man was evidently not
of English descent and Tarzan mentally cataloged him, almost
immediately, as a Slav. Shortly after Tarzan's arrival this
one arose and entered one of the nearby tents, from which
Tarzan immediately heard the sound of voices in low
conversation. He could not distinguish the words, but the
tones of one seemed quite distinctly feminine. The three
remaining at the fire were carrying on a desultory
conversation, when suddenly from near at hand beyond the
boma wall, a lion's roar broke the silence of the jungle.

With a startled shriek the Jew leaped to his feet, so
suddenly that he cleared the ground a good foot, and then,
stepping backward, he lost his balance, tripped over his
camp-stool, and sprawled upon his back.

"My Gord, Adolph!" roared one of his companions. "If you do
that again, damn me if I don't break your neck. 'Ere we are,
and that's that."

"Blime if 'e aint worse' n a bloomin' lion," growled the
other.

The Jew crawled to his feet. "Mein Gott!" he cried, his
voice quavering, "I t'ought sure he vas coming over the
fence. S'elp me if I ever get out of diss, neffer again--
not for all der gold in Africa vould I go t'rough vat I haf
been t'rough dese past t'ree mont's. Oi! Oi! ven I t'ink of
it, Oi! Oi! Lions, und leopards, und rhinoceroses und
hippopotamuses, Oi! Oi!"

His companions laughed. "Dick and I tells you right along
from the beginning that you 'adn't oughter come into the
interior," said one of them.

"But for vy I buy all dese clo's?" wailed the German. "Mein
Gott, dis suit, it stands me tventy guineas, vot I stand in.
Ach, had I know somet'ing, vun guinea vould have bought me
my whole wardrobe--tventy guineas for dis und no vun to
see it but niggers und lions."

"And you look like 'ell in it, besides," commented one of
his friends.

"Und look at it, it's all dirty and torn. How should I know
it I spoil dis suit? Mit mine own eyes I see it at der
Princess Teayter, how der hero spend t'ree mont's in Africa
hunting lions und killing cannibals, und ven he comes ouid
he hasn't even got a grease spot on his pants--how should
I know it Africa was so dirty und full of thorns?"

It was at this point that Tarzan of the Apes elected to drop
quietly into the circle of firelight before them. The two
Englishmen leaped to their feet, quite evidently startled,
and the Jew turned and took a half step as though in flight,
but immediately his eyes rested upon the ape-man he halted,
a look of relief supplanting that of terror which had
overspread his countenance, as Tarzan had dropped upon them
apparently from the heavens.

"Mein Gott, Esteban," shrilled the German, "vy you come back
so soon, and for vy you come back like dot, sudden--don't
you suppose ve got nerves?"

Tarzan was angry, angry at these raw intruders, who dared
enter without his permission, the wide, domain in which he
kept peace and order. When Tarzan was angry there flamed
upon his forehead the scar that Bolgani, the gorilla, had
placed there upon that long-gone day when the boy Tarzan had
met the great beast in mortal combat, and first learned the
true value of his father's hunting knife--the knife that
had placed him, the comparatively weak little Tarmangani,
upon an even footing with the great beasts of the jungle.

His gray eyes were narrowed, his voice came cold and level
as he addressed them. "Who are you," he demanded, "who dare
thus invade the country of the Waziri, the land of Tarzan,
without permission from the Lord of the Jungle?"

"Where do you get that stuff, Esteban," demanded one of the
Englishmen, "and wat in 'ell are you doin' back 'ere alone
and so soon? Where are your porters, where is the bloomin'
gold?"

The ape-man eyed the speaker in silence for a moment. "I am
Tarzan of the Apes," he said. "I do not know what you are
talking about. I only know that I come in search of him who
slew Gobu, the great ape; him who slew Bara, the deer,
without my permission."

"Oh, 'ell," exploded the other Englishman, "stow the guff,
Esteban--if you're tryin' for to be funny we don't see the
joke, 'ere we are, and that's that."

Inside the tent, which the fourth white man had entered
while Tarzan was watching the camp from his hiding place in the tree above, a woman, evidently suddenly stirred by
terror, touched the arm of her companion frantically, and
pointed toward the tall, almost naked figure of the ape-man
as he stood revealed in the full light of the beast fires.
"God, Carl," she whispered, in trembling tones, "look!"

"What's wrong, Flora?" inquired her companion. "I see only
Esteban."

"It is not Esteban," hissed the girl. "It is Lord Greystoke
himself--it is Tarzan of the Apes!"

"You are mad, Flora," replied the man, "it cannot be he."

"It is he, though," she insisted. "Do you suppose that I do
not know him? Did I not work in his town house for years?
Did I not see him nearly every day? Do you suppose that I do
not know Tarzan of the Apes? Look at that red scar flaming
on his forehead--I have heard the story of that scar and I
have seen it burn scarlet when he was aroused to anger. It
is scarlet now, and Tarzan of the Apes is angry."

"Well, suppose it is Tarzan of the Apes, what can he do?"

"You do not know him," replied the girl. "You do not guess
the tremendous power he wields here--the power of life and
death over man and beast. If he knew our mission here, not
one of us would ever reach the coast alive. The very fact
that he is here now makes me believe that he may have
discovered our purpose, and if he has, God help us--unless--unless--"

"Unless what?" demanded the man.

The girl was silent in thought for a moment. "There is only
one way," she said finally. "We dare not kill him. His
savage blacks would learn of it, and no power on earth could
save us then. There is a way, though, if we act quickly."
She turned and searched for a moment in one of her bags, and
presently she handed the man a small bottle, containing
liquid. "Go out and talk to him," she said, "make friends
with him. Lie to him. Tell him anything. Promise anything.
But get on friendly enough terms with him so that you can
offer him coffee. He does not drink wine or anything with
alcohol in it, but I know that he likes coffee. I have often
served it to him in his room late at night upon his return
from the theater or a ball. Get him to drink coffee and then
you will know what to do with this." And she indicated the
bottle which the man still held in his hand.

Kraski nodded. "I understand," he said, and, turning, left
the tent.

He had taken but a step when the girl recalled him. "Do not
let him see me.  Do not let him guess that I am here or that
you know me."

The man nodded and left her. Approaching the tense figures
before the fire he greeted Tarzan with a pleasant smile and
a cheery word.

"Welcome," he said, "we are always glad to see a stranger in
our camp. Sit down. Hand the gentleman a stool, John," he
said to Peebles.

The ape-man eyed Kraski as he had eyed the others. There was
no answering friendly light in his eyes responding to the
Russian's greeting.

"I have been trying to find out what your party is doing
here," he said sharply to the Russian, "but they still
insist that I am someone whom I am not. They are either
fools or knaves, and I intend to find out which, and deal
with them accordingly."

"Come, come," cried Kraski, soothingly. "There must be some
mistake, I am sure. But tell me, who are you?"

"I am Tarzan of the Apes," replied the ape-man. "No hunters
enter this part of Africa without my permission. That fact
is so well known that there is no chance of your having
passed the coast without having been so advised. I seek an
explanation, and that quickly."

"Ah, you are Tarzan of the Apes," exclaimed Kraski.
"Fortunate indeed are we, for now may we be set straight
upon our way, and escape from our frightful dilemma is
assured. We are lost, sir, inextricably lost, due to the
ignorance or knavery of our guide, who deserted us several
weeks ago. Surely we knew of you; who does not know of
Tarzan of the Apes? But it was not our intention to cross
the boundaries of your territory.  We were searching farther
south for specimens of the fauna of the district, which our
good friend and employer, here, Mr. Adolph Bluber, is
collecting at great expense for presentation to a museum in
his home city in America. Now I am sure that you can tell us where we are and direct us upon our proper course."

Peebles, Throck, and Bluber stood fascinated by Kraski's
glib lies, but it was the German Jew who first rose to the
occasion. Too thick were the skulls of the English pugs to
grasp quickly the clever ruse of the Russian.

"Vy yes," said the oily Bluber, rubbing his palms together,
"dot iss it, yust vot I vas going to tell you."

Tarzan turned sharply upon him. "Then what was all this talk
about Esteban?" he asked. "Was it not by that name that
these others addressed me?"

"Ah," cried Bluber, "John will haf his leetle joke. He iss
ignorant of Africa; he has neffer been here before. He
t'ought perhaps dat you vere a native John he calls all der
natives Esteban, und he has great jokes by himself mit dem,
because he knows dey cannot onderstand vot he says. Hey
John, iss it not so, vot it iss I say?" But the shrewd
Bluber did not wait for John to reply. "You see," he went
on, "ve are lost, und you take us ouid mit dis jungle, ve
pay you anyt'ing--you name your own price."

The ape-man only half believed him, yet he was somewhat
mollified by their evidently friendly intentions. Perhaps
after all they were telling him a half-truth and had,
really, wandered into his territory unwittingly. That, however, he would find out definitely from their native
carriers, from whom his own Waziri would wean the truth. But
the matter of his having been mistaken for Esteban still
piqued his curiosity, also he was still desirous of learning
the identity of the slayer of Gobu, the great ape.

"Please sit down," urged Kraski. "We were about to have
coffee and we should be delighted to have you join us. We
meant no wrong in coming here, and I can assure you that we
will gladly and willingly make full amends to you, or to
whomever else we may have unintentionally wronged."

To take coffee with these men would do no harm. Perhaps he
had wronged them, but however that might be a cup of their
coffee would place no great obligation upon him.  Flora had
been right in her assertion that if Tarzan of the Apes had
any weakness whatsoever it was for an occasional cup of
black coffee late at night. He did not accept the proffered
camp stool, but squatted, ape-fashion, before them, the
flickering light of the beast fires playing upon his bronzed
hide and bringing into relief the gracefully contoured
muscles of his godlike frame. Not as the muscles of the
blacksmith or the professional strong man were the muscles
of Tarzan of the Apes, but rather those of Mercury or
Apollo, so symmetrically balanced were their proportions,
suggesting only the great strength that lay in them. Trained
to speed and agility were they as well as to strength, and
thus, clothing as they did his giant frame, they imparted to
him the appearance of a demi-god.

Throck, Peebles, and Bluber sat watching him in spellbound
fascination, while Kraski walked over to the cook fire to
arrange for the coffee. The two Englishmen were as yet only
half awakened to the fact that they had mistaken this
newcomer for another, and as it was, Peebles still scratched
his head and grumbled to himself in inarticulate half-denial
of Kraski's assumption of the new identity of Tarzan. Bluber
was inwardly terror-stricken. His keener intelligence had
quickly grasped the truth of Kraski's recognition of the man
for what he was rather than for what Peebles and Throck
thought him to be, and, as Bluber knew nothing of Flora's
plan, he was in quite a state of funk as he tried to
visualize the outcome of Tarzan's discovery of them at the
very threshold of Opar. He did not realize, as did Flora,
that their very lives were in danger--that it was Tarzan
of the Apes, a beast of the jungle, with whom they had to
deal, and not John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, an English peer.
Rather was Bluber considering the two thousand pounds that
they stood to lose through this deplorable termination of
their expedition, for he was sufficiently familiar with the
reputation of the ape-man to know that they would never be
permitted to take with them the gold that Esteban was very
likely, at this moment, pilfering from the vaults of Opar.
Really Bluber was almost upon the verge of tears when Kraski
returned with the coffee, which he brought himself.

From the dark shadows of the tent's interior Flora Hawkes
looked nervously out upon the scene before her. She was
terrified at the possibility of discovery by her former
employer, for she had been a maid in the Greystokes' London
town house as well as at the African bungalow and knew that
Lord Greystoke would recognize her instantly should he
chance to see her. She entertained for him, now, in his
jungle haunts, a fear that was possibly greater than
Tarzan's true character warranted, but none the less real
was it to the girl whose guilty conscience conjured all
sorts of possible punishments for her disloyalty to those
who had always treated her with uniform kindliness and
consideration.

Constant dreaming of the fabulous wealth of the treasure
vaults of Opar, concerning which she had heard so much in
detail from the conversations of the Greystokes, had aroused
within her naturally crafty and unscrupulous mind a desire
for possession, and in consequence thereof she had slowly
visualized a scheme whereby she might loot the treasure
vaults of a sufficient number of the golden ingots to make
her independently wealthy for life. The entire plan had been
hers. She had at first interested Kraski, who had in turn
enlisted the cooperation of the two Englishmen and Bluber,
and these four had raised the necessary money to defray the
cost of the expedition. It had been Flora who had searched
for a type of man who might successfully impersonate Tarzan
in his own jungle, and she had found Esteban Miranda, a
handsome, powerful, and unscrupulous Spaniard, whose
histrionic ability aided by the art of make-up, of which he
was a past master, permitted him to almost faultlessly
impersonate the character they desired him to portray, in so
far, as least, as outward appearances were concerned.

The Spaniard was not only powerful and active, but
physically courageous as well, and since he had shaved his
beard and donned the jungle habiliments of a Tarzan, he had
lost no opportunity for emulating the ape-man in every way
that lay within his ability. Of jungle craft he had none of
course, and personal combats with the more savage jungle
beasts caution prompted him to eschew, but he hunted the
lesser game with spear and with arrow and practiced
continually with the grass rope that was a part of his
make-up.

And now Flora Hawkes saw all her well-laid plans upon the
verge of destruction. She trembled as she watched the men
before the fire, for her fear of Tarzan was very real, and
then she became tense with nervous anticipation as she saw
Kraski approaching the group with the coffee pot in one hand
and cups in the other. Kraski set the pot and the cups upon
the ground a little in the rear of Tarzan, and, as he filled
the latter, she saw him pour a portion of the contents of
the bottle she had given him into one of the cups. A cold
sweat broke out upon her forehead as Kraski lifted this cup
and offered it to the ape-man. Would he take it? Would he
suspect? If he did suspect what horrible punishment would be
meted to them all for their temerity? She saw Kraski hand
another cup to Peebles, Throck, and Bluber, then return to
the circle with the last one for himself. As the Russian
raised it before his face and bowed politely to the ape-man,
she saw the five men drink. The reaction which ensued left
her weak and spent. Turning she collapsed upon her cot, and
lay there trembling, her face buried in her arm. And,
outside, Tarzan of the Apes drained his cup to the last
drop.