Chapter Three

WITHIN the dim interior of the strange rocky chamber where he had been so

ruthlessly deposited, Tarzan immediately became the center of interest to

the several Alali young that crowded about him. They examined him

carefully, turned him over, pawed him, pinched him, and at last one of

the young males, attracted by the golden locket removed it from the

ape-man's neck and placed it about his own. Lowest, perhaps, in the order

of human evolution nothing held their interest overlong, with the result

that they soon tired of Tarzan and trooped out into the sunlit courtyard,

leaving the ape-man to regain consciousness as best he could, or not at

all. It was immaterial to them which he did. Fortunately for the Lord of

the Jungle the fall through the roof of the forest had been broken by the

fortuitous occurrence of supple branches directly in the path of his

descent, with the happy result that he suffered only from a slight

concussion of the brain. Already he was slowly regaining consciousness,

and not long after the Alali young had left him his eyes opened, rolled

dully inspecting the dim interior of his prison, and closed again. His

breathing was normal and when again he opened his eyes it was as though

he had emerged from a deep and natural slumber, the only reminder of his

accident being a dull aching of the head. Sitting up, he looked about

him, his eyes gradually accustoming themselves to the dim light of the

chamber. He found himself in a rude shelter constructed of great slabs of

rock. A single opening led into what appeared to be another similar

chamber the interior of which, however, was much lighter than that in

which he lay. Slowly he rose to his feet and crossed to the opening.

Across the second chamber he beheld another doorway leading into the

fresh air and the sunshine. Except for filthy heaps of dead grasses on

the floor both the rooms were unfurnished and devoid of any suggestion

that they were utilized as places of human habitation. From the second

doorway, to which he crossed, he looked out upon a narrow courtyard

walled by great slabs of stone, the lower ends of which, embedded in the

ground, caused them to remain erect. Here he saw the young Alali

squatting about, some in the sun, others in the shadow. Tarzan looked at

them in evident puzzlement. What were they? What was this place in which

he was, all too evidently, incarcerated? Were these his keepers or were

they his fellow prisoners? How had he come hither?

Running his fingers through his shock of black hair in a characteristic

gesture of perplexity, he shook his head. He recalled the unfortunate

termination of the flight; he even remembered falling through the foliage

of the great tree; but beyond that all was blank. He stood for a moment

examining the Alali, who were all unconscious of his near presence or his

gaze upon them, and then he stepped boldly out into the courtyard before

them, as a lion, fearless, ignores the presence of jackals.

Immediately they saw him, they rose and clustered about him, the girls

pushing the boys aside and coming boldly close, and Tarzan spoke to them,

first in one native dialect and then in another, but they seemed not to

understand, for they made no reply, and then, as a last resort, he

addressed them in the primitive language of the great apes, the language

of Maim the monkey, the first language that Tarzan had learned when, as a

babe, he suckled at the hairy breast of Kala, the she-ape, and listened

to the gutturals of the savage members of the tribe of Kerchak; but again

his auditors made no response--at least no audible response, though they

moved their hands and shoulders and bodies, and jerked their heads in

what the ape-man soon recognized as a species of sign language, nor did

they utter any vocal sounds that might indicate that they were

communicating with one another through the medium of a spoken language.

Presently they again lost interest in the newcomer and resumed their

indolent lounging about the walls of the courtyard while Tarzan paced to

and fro its length, his keen eye searching for whatever avenue of escape

chance might provide, and he saw it in the height of the walls, to the

top of which a long, running jump would take his outstretched fingers, he

was sure; but not yet--he must wait for darkness to shield his attempt

from those within the enclosure and those without. And as darkness

approached the actions of the other occupants of the courtyard became

noticeably altered; they walked back and forth, constantly passing and

re-passing the entrance to the shelter at the end of the courtyard, and

occasionally entering the first room and often passing to the second room

where they listened for a moment before the great slab that closed the

outer aperture, then back into the courtyard again and back and forth in

restless movement. Finally one stamped a foot upon the ground and this

was taken up by the others until, in regular cadence the thud, thud, thud

of their naked feet must have been audible for some distance beyond the

confines of their narrow prison yard.

Whatever this procedure might have been intended to accomplish, nothing,

apparently, resulted, and presently one of the girls, her sullen face

snarling in anger, seized her bludgeon more firmly in her two hands and

stepping close to one of the walls began pounding violently upon one of

its huge stone slabs. Instantly the other girls followed her example,

while the young males continued beating time with their heels.

For a while Tarzan was puzzled for an explanation of their behavior, but

it was his own stomach that at last suggested an answer--the creatures

were hungry and were attempting to attract the attention of their

jailers; and their method of doing so suggested something else, as well,

something of which his past brief experience with them had already

partially convinced him--the creatures were without speech, even totally

unvocal, perhaps.

The girl who had started the pounding upon the wall suddenly stopped and

pointed at Tarzan. The others looked at him and then back at her,

whereupon she pointed at her bludgeon and then at Tarzan again, after

which she acted out a little pantomime, very quicky, very briefly, but

none the less realistically. The pantomime depicted the bludgeon falling

upon Tarzan's head, following which the pantomimist, assisted by her

fellows, devoured the ape-man. The bludgeons ceased to fall upon the

wall; the heels no longer smote the earth; the assemblage was interested

in the new suggestion. They eyed Tarzan hungrily. The mother who should

have brought them food, The First Woman, was dead. They did not know

this; all they knew was that they were hungry and that The First Woman

had brought them no food since the day before. They were not cannibals.

Only in the last stages of hunger, would they have devoured one another,

even as shipwrecked sailors of civilized races have been known to do; but

they did not look upon the stranger as one of their own kind. He was as

unlike them as some of the other creatures that The First Woman had

brought them to feed upon. It was no more wrong to devour him than it

would have been to devour an antelope. The thought, however, would not

have occurred to most of them; the older girl it was who had suggested it

to them, nor would it have occurred to her had there been other food, for

she knew that he had not been brought here for that purpose--he had been

brought as the mate of The First Woman, who in common with the other

women of this primitive race hunted a new mate each season among the

forests and the jungles where the timid males lived their solitary lives

except for the brief weeks that they were held captive in the stone

corrals of the dominant sex, and where they were treated with great

brutality and contempt even by the children of their temporary spouses.

Sometimes they managed to escape, though rarely, but eventually they were

turned loose, since it was easier to hunt a new one the following season

than to feed one in captivity for a whole year. There was nothing

approximating love in the family relations of these savage half-brutes.

The young, conceived without love, knowing not their own fathers,

possessed not even an elemental affection for one another, nor for any

other living thing. A certain tie bound them to their savage mothers, at

whose breasts they suckled for a few short months and to whom they looked

for food until they were sufficiently developed to go forth into the

forests and make their own kills or secure whatever other food bountiful

Nature provided for them.

Somewhere between the ages of fifteen and seventeen the young males were

liberated and chased into the forest, after which their mothers knew them

not from any other male and at a similar age the females were taken to

the maternal cave, where they lived, accompanying their mothers on the

daily hunt, until they had succeeded in capturing a first mate. After

that they took up their abodes in separate caves and the tie between

parent and child was cut as cleanly as though it never had existed, and

they might, the following season, even become rivals for the same man, or

at any time quarrel to the death over the spoils of the chase.

The building of the stone shelters and corrals in which the children and

the males were kept was the only community activity in which the women

engaged and this work they were compelled to do alone, since the men

would have escaped into the forest at the first opportunity had they been

released from the corrals to take part in the work of construction, while

the children as soon as they had become strong enough to be of any

assistance would doubtless have done likewise; but the great shes were

able to accomplish their titanic labors alone.

Equipped by nature with mighty frames and thews of steel they quarried

the great slabs from a side hill overlooking the amphitheater, slid them

to the floor of the little valley and pulled and pushed them into

position by main strength and awkwardness, as the homely saying of our

forefathers has it.

Fortunately for them it was seldom necessary to add to the shelters and

corrals already built since the high rate of mortality among the females

ordinarily left plenty of vacant enclosures for maturing girls. Jealousy,

greed, the hazards of the hunt, the contingencies of intertribal wars all

took heavy toll among the adult shes. Even the despised male, fighting

for his freedom, sometimes slew his captor.

The hideous life of the Alalus was the natural result of the unnatural

reversal of sex dominance. It is the province of the male to initiate

love and by his masterfulness to inspire first respect, then admiration

in the breast of the female he seeks to attract. Love itself developed

after these other emotions. The gradually increasing ascendency of the

female Alalus over the male eventually prevented the emotions of respect

and admiration for the male from being aroused, with the result that love

never followed.

Having no love for her mate and having become a more powerful brute, the

savage Alalus woman soon came to treat the members of the opposite sex

with contempt and brutality with the result that the power, or at least

the desire, to initiate love ceased to exist in the heart of the male--he

could not love a creature he feared and hated, he could not respect or

admire the unsexed creatures that the Alali women had become, and so he

fled into the forests and the jungles and there the dominant females

hunted him lest their race perish from the earth.

It was the offspring of such savage and perverted creatures that Tarzan

faced, fully aware of their cannibalistic intentions. The males did not

attack him at once, but busily engaged themselves in fetching dry grass

and small pieces of wood from one of the covered chambers, and while the

three girls, one of them scarce seven years of age, approached the

ape-man warily with ready bludgeons, they prepared a fire over which they

expected soon to be broiling juicy cuts from the strange creature that

their hairy dam had brought them.

One of the males, a lad of sixteen, held back, making excited signs with

hands, head and body. He appeared to be trying to dissuade or prevent the

girls from the carrying-out of their plan, he even appealed to the other

boys for backing, but they merely glanced at the girls and continued

their culinary preparations. At last however, as the girls were

deliberately approaching the ape-man he placed himself directly in their

path and attempted to stop them. Instantly the three little demons swung

their bludgeons and sprang forward to destroy him. The boy dodged,

plucked several of the feathered stones from his girdle and flung them at

his assailants. So swift and so accurate did the missiles speed that two

girls dropped, howling, to the ground. The third missed, striking one of

the other boys on the temple, killing him instantly. He was the youth who

had stolen Tarzan's locket, which, being like all his fellow males a

timid creature, he had kept continually covered by a palm since the

ape-man's return to consciousness had brought him out into the courtyard

among them.

The older girl, nothing daunted, leaped forward, her face hideous in a

snarl of rage. The boy cast another stone at her and then turned and ran

toward the ape-man. What reception he expected he himself probably did

not know. Perhaps it was the recrudescence of a long dead emotion of

fellowship that prompted him to place himself at Tarzan's side--possibly

Tarzan himself in whom loyalty to kind was strong had inspired this

reawakening of an atrophied soul-sense. However that may be the fact

remains that the boy came and stood at Tarzan's side while the girl,

evidently sensing danger to herself in this strange, new temerity of her

brother, advanced more cautiously.

In signs she seemed to be telling him what she would do to him if he did

not cease to interpose his weak will between her and her gastronomic

desires; but he signed back at her defiantly and stood his ground. Tarzan

reached over and patted him on the back, smiling. The boy bared his teeth

horribly, but it seemed evident that he was trying to return the

ape-man's smile. And now the girl was almost upon them. Tarzan was quite

at a loss as to how to proceed against her. His natural chivalry

restrained him from attacking her and made it seem most repellant to

injure her even in self-preservation; but he knew that before he was done

with her he might even possibly have to kill her and so, while looking

for an alternative, he steeled himself for the deed he loathed; but yet

he hoped to escape without that.

The Third Woman, conducting her new mate from the cave to the corral

where she would keep him imprisoned for a week or two, had heard the

cadenced beating of naked heels and heavy bludgeons arising from the

corral of The First Woman and immediately guessed their import. The

welfare of the offspring of The First Woman concerned her not as an

individual. Community instinct, however, prompted her to release them

that they might search for food and their services not be lost to the

tribe through starvation. She would not feed them, of course, as they did

not belong to her, but she would open their prison gate and turn them

loose to fend for themselves, to find food or not to find it, to survive

or to perish according to the inexorable law of the survival of the

fittest.

But the Third Woman took her time. Her powerful fingers entangled in the

hair of her snarling spouse she dragged the protesting creature to her

corral, removed the great slab from before the entrance, pushed the man

roughly within, accelerating his speed with a final kick, replaced the

slab and turned leisurely toward the nearby corral of The First Woman.

Removing the stone door she passed through the two chambers and entered

the corral at the moment that the oldest girl was advancing upon Tarzan.

Pausing by the entranceway she struck her bludgeon against the stone wall

of the shelter, evidently to attract the attention of those within the

corral. Instantly all looked in her direction. She was the first adult

female, other than their own dam, that the children of The First Woman

had seen. They shrunk from her in evident terror. The youth at Tarzan's

side slunk behind the ape-man, nor did Tarzan wonder at their fear. The

Third Woman was the first adult Alalus he had seen, since all of the time

that he had been in the hands of The First Woman he had been unconscious.

The girl who had been threatening him with her great club seemed now to

have forgotten him, and instead stood with snarling face and narrowed

eyes confronting the newcomer. Of all the children she seemed the least

terrified.

The ape-man scrutinized the huge, brutish female standing at the far end

of the corral with her savage eyes upon him. She had not seen him before

as she had been in the forest hunting at the time that The First Woman

had brought her prize back to the amphitheater. She had not known that

The First Woman had any male in her corral other than her own spawn.

Here, indeed, was a prize. She would remove him to her own corral. With

this idea in mind, and knowing that, unless he succeeded in dodging past

her and reaching the entranceway ahead of her, he could not escape her,

she moved very slowly toward him, ignoring now the other occupants of the

corral.

Tarzan, not guessing her real purpose, thought that she was about to

attack him as a dangerous alien in the sacred precincts of her home. He

viewed her great bulk, her enormous muscular development and the huge

bludgeon swinging in her ham-like hand and compared them with his own defenseless nakedness.

To the jungle-born flight from useless and uneven combat carries with it

no stigma of cowardice, and not only was Tarzan of the Apes jungle-born

and jungle-raised, but the stripping of his clothes from him had now, as

always before, stripped also away the thin and unnatural veneer of his

civilization. It was, then, a savage beast that faced the oncoming Alalus

woman--a cunning beast as well as a powerful one--a beast that knew when

to fight and when to flee.

Tarzan cast a quick glance behind him. There crouched the Alalus lad,

trembling in fear. Beyond was the rear wall of the corral, one of the

great stone slabs of which tilted slightly outward. Slow is the mind of

man, slower his eye by comparison with the eye and the mind of the

trapped beast seeking escape. So quick was the ape-man that he was gone

before The Third Woman had guessed that he was contemplating flight, and

with him had gone the eldest Alalus boy.

Wheeling, all in a single motion Tarzan had swung the young male to his

shoulder, leaped swiftly the few paces that had separated him from the

rear wall of the corral, and, catlike, run up the smooth surface of the

slightly tilted slab until his fingers closed upon the top, drawn himself

over without a single backward glance, dropped the youth to the ground

upon the opposite side, following him so quickly that they alighted

almost together. Then he glanced about for the first time he saw the

natural amphitheater and the caves before several of which women still

squatted. It would soon be dark. The sun was dropping behind the crest of

the western hills. Tarzan saw but a single avenue of escape--the opening

at the lower end of the amphitheater through which the trail led down

into the valley and the forest below. Toward this he ran, followed by the

youth.

Presently a woman, sitting before the entrance of her cave, saw him.

Seizing her cudgel she leaped to her feet and gave immediate chase.

Attracted by her another and another took up the pursuit, until five or

six of them thundered along the trail.

The youth, pointing the way, raced swiftly ahead of the ape-man, but

swift as he was, he could not outdistance the lithe muscles that had so

often in the past carried their master safely from the swift rush of a

maddened Numa, or won him a meal against the fleetness of Bara the deer.

The heavy, lumbering women behind them had no chance of overhauling this

swift pair if they were to depend entirely upon speed, but that they had

no intention of doing. They had their stone missiles with which, almost

from birth, they had practiced until approximate perfection was attained

by each in casting them at either stationary or moving targets. But it

was growing dark, the trail twisted and turned and the speed of the

quarry made them elusive marks at which to cast an accurate missile that

would be so timed as to stun rather than to kill. Of course more often

than not a missile intended to stun did actually kill, but the quarry

must take that chance. Instinct warned the women against killing the

males, though it did not warn them against treating them with the utmost

brutality. Had Tarzan realized why the women were pursuing him he would

have run even faster than he did, and when the missiles began to fly past

his head perhaps he did accelerate his speed a trifle.

Soon the ape-man reached the forest and as though he had dissolved into

thin air disappeared from the astonished view of his pursuers, for now,

indeed, was he in his own element. While they looked for him upon the

ground he swung swiftly through the lower terraces, keeping in view the

Alalus boy racing along the trail beneath him.

But with the man escaped, the women stopped and turned back toward the

caves. The youth they did not want. For two or three years he would roam

the forests unmolested by his own kind, and if he escaped the savage

beasts and the spears and arrows of the ant people he would come to man's

estate and be fair prey for any of the great shes during the mating

season. For the time being, at least, he would lead a comparatively safe

and happy existence.

His chances of survival had been materially lessened by his early escape

into the forest. Had The First Woman lived she would have kept him safely

within the walls of her corral for another year at least, when he would

have been better fitted to cope with the dangers and emergencies of the

savage life of the forest and the jungle.

The boy, his keen ears telling him that the women had given up the

pursuit, halted and looked back for the strange creature that had freed

him from the hated corral, but he could see only a short distance through

the darkness of the growing forest night The stranger was not in sight.

The youth pricked up his great ears and listened intently. There was no

sound of human footsteps other than the rapidly diminishing ones of the

retreating women. There were other sounds, however, unfamiliar forest

sounds that filled his muddy brain with vague terrors--sounds that came

from the surrounding underbrush; sounds that came from the branches above

his head, and, too, there were terrifying odors.

Darkness, complete and impenetrable, had closed in upon him with a

suddenness that left him trembling. He could almost feel it weighing down

upon him, crushing him and at the same time leaving him exposed to

nameless terrors. He looked about him and could see naught, so that it

seemed to him that he was without eyes, and being without a voice he

could not call out either to frighten his enemies or attract the

attention of the strange creature that had befriended him, and whose

presence had so strangely aroused in his own breast an inexplicable

emotion--a pleasurable emotion. He could not explain it; he had no word

for it who had no word for anything, but he felt it and it still warmed

his bosom and he wished in his muddy way that he could make a noise that

would attract that strange creature to him again. He was lonely and much

afraid.

A crackling of the bushes nearby aroused him to new and more intimate

terror. Something large was approaching through the black night. The

youth stood with his back against a great tree. He dared not move. He

sniffed but what movement of the air there was took course from him in

the direction of the thing that was creeping upon him out of the terrible

forest, and so he could not identify it; but his instinct told him that

the creature had identified him and was doubtless creeping closer to leap

upon him and devour him.

He knew naught of lions, unless instinct carries with it a picture of the

various creatures of which the denizens of the wild are instinctively

afraid. In all his life he had never been outside the corral of The First

Woman and as his people are without speech his dam could have told him

nothing of the outside world, yet when the lion roared he knew that it

was a lion.