Chapter Seven
THE Alalus youth, son of The First Woman, ranged the forest in search of
the ape-man, the only creature that ever had stirred within his savage,
primitive breast any emotion even slightly akin to affection; but he did
not find him. Instead he fell in with two older males of his own species,
and these three hunted together, as was occasionally the custom of these
inoffensive creatures. His new acquaintances showed little interest in
his strange armament--they were quite content with a stick and a stone
knife. To the former an occasional rodent fell and the latter discovered
many a luscious grub and insect beneath the mold that floored the forest
or hidden under the bark of a tree. For the most part, however, they fed
upon fruits, nuts and tubers. Not so the son of The First Woman, however.
He brought in many birds and an occasional antelope, for he was becoming
daily more proficient with the bow and the spear, and as he often brought
in more than he could eat and left the remainder to his two fellows, they
were permanently attached to him, or at least until such time as some
fearsome woman should appear upon the scene to shatter their idyllic
existence and drag one of them away to her corral.
They wondered a little at him in their slow and stupid minds, for he
seemed to differ in some vague, intangible way from them and all others
of their sex that they had known. He held his chin higher for one thing
and his gaze was far less shifty and apologetic. He strode with a firmer
step and with less caution; but perhaps they smiled inwardly as they
cogitated muddily upon that inevitable moment that would discover one of
their coarse, brutal, hairy shes felling him with her bludgeon and
dragging him off toward the caves by the hair of his head.
And then one day the thing happened, or at least a part of it
happened--they met a huge she suddenly in an open place in the forest The
two who accompanied the son of The First Woman turned in flight, but when
they had reached the vantage ground of close-growing timber they paused
and looked back to see if the woman was pursuing them and what had become
of their companion. To their relief they saw that the woman was not
following them and to their consternation that their fellow had not fled,
but was facing her defiantly, and motioning her to go away, or be killed.
Such crass stupidity! He must have been whelped without brains. It never
occurred to them to attribute his act to courage. Courage was for the
shes; the male spent his life in fleeing danger and the female of his
species.
But they were grateful to him, for his rash act would save them since the
she would take but one of them and that one would be he who thus
foolishly remained behind to defy her.
The woman, unaccustomed to having her rights challenged by mere man, was
filled with surprise and righteous anger. Her surprise brought her to a
sudden halt twenty paces from the man and her anger caused her to reach
for one of the stone missiles hanging at her girdle. That was her
undoing. The son of The First Woman, standing before her with an arrow
already fitted to his bow, waited not to discover her further intentions,
but even as the woman's fingers loosed the feathered messenger of defeat
from the leather thong of her girdle, he drew the shaft to his cheek and
released it.
His two companions, watching from the seclusion of the wood, saw the
woman stiffen, her face contorted in a spasm of pain; they saw her clutch
frantically at a feathered shaft protruding from her chest, sink to her
knees and then sprawl to earth, where she lay kicking with her feet and
clutching with her fingers for a brief moment before she relapsed into
eternal quiet; then they emerged from their concealment, and as the son
of The First Woman approached his victim and wrenched the arrow from her
heart they joined him, half-stunned as they were by surprise, and gazed
first at the corpse of the she with expressions of incredulity and then
at him with what was closely akin to awe and reverence.
They examined his bow and arrows and again and again they returned to the
wound in the woman's chest. It was all quite too amazing. And the son of
The First Woman? He held his head high and his chest out and strutted
proudly. Never before had he or any other man been cast in the role of
hero and he enjoyed it. But he would impress them further. Seizing the
corpse of the woman he dragged it to a nearby tree where he propped it in
a sitting posture against the bole; then he walked away some twenty feet
and, signing his fellows to observe him closely, he raised his heavy
spear and hurled it at his realistic target, through which it passed to
embed itself in the tree behind.
The others were greatly excited. One of them wanted to attempt this
wondrous feat and when he had thrown, and missed, his fellow insisted
upon having a turn. Later they craved practice with the bow and arrow.
For hours the three remained before their grisly target, nor did they
desist until hunger prompted them to move on and the son of The First
Woman had promised to show them how to fashion weapons similar to his
own--a momentous occurrence in the history of the Alali, though these
three sensed it as little as did the hundreds of Alalus women repairing
to their caves that night in blissful ignorance of the blow that had been
struck at their supremacy by the militant suffragists of Minuni.
And as suddenly, with more immediate results, the even tenor of Tarzan's
existence in the city of Trohanadalmakus was altered and a series of
events initiated that were to lead to the maddest and most unbelievable
denouement.
The ape-man lay upon a bed of grasses beneath a great tree that grew
beside the city of King Adendrohahkis. Dawn was flushing the sky above
the forest to the east of Trohanadalmakus, when Tarzan, his ear close to
the ground, was suddenly awakened by a strange reverberation that seemed
to come faintly from the bowels of the earth. It was such a dim and
distant sound that it would scarce have been appreciable to you or to me
had we placed an ear flat against the ground after having been told that
the noise existed; but to Tarzan it was an interruption of the ordinary
noises of the night and, therefore, however slight, of sufficient import
to impinge upon his consciousness even in sleep.
Awakened, he still lay listening intently. He knew that the sound did not
come from the bowels of the earth, but from the surface and he guessed
that it originated at no great distance, and also, he knew, that it was
coming closer rapidly. For just a moment it puzzled him and then a great
light dawned upon him and he sprang to his feet. The dome of the king,
Adendrohahkis, lay a hundred yards away and toward it he bent his steps.
Just before the south entrance he was challenged by a tiny sentinel.
"Take word to your king," the ape-man directed him, "that Tarzan hears
many diadets galloping toward Trohanadalmakus and that unless he is much
mistaken each carries a hostile warrior upon its back."
The sentinel turned and hallooed down the corridor leading from the
entrance, and a moment later an officer and several other warriors
appeared. At sight of Tarzan they halted.
"What is wrong?" demanded the officer.
"The King's Guest says that he heard many diadets approaching," replied
the sentinel.
"From what direction?" demanded the officer, addressing Tarzan.
"From that direction the sounds appeared to come," replied the ape-man,
pointing toward the west.
"The Veltopismakusians!" exclaimed the officer, and then, turning to
those who had accompanied him from the interior of the king's dome:
"Quick! arouse Trohanadalmakus--I will warn the king's dome and the king,"
and he wheeled and ran quickly within, while the others sped away to
awaken the city.
In an incredibly short space of time Tarzan saw thousands of warriors
streaming from each of the ten domes. From the north and the south doors
of each dome rode mounted men, and from the east and west marched the
foot soldiers. There was no confusion; everything moved with military
precision and evidently in accordance with a plan of defense in which
each unit had been thoroughly drilled.
Small detachments of cavalry galloped quickly to the four points of the
compass--these were scouts each detail of which spread fanwise just
beyond the limits of the domes until the city was encircled by a thin
line of mounted men that would halt when it had reached a predetermined
distance from the city, and fall back with information before an
advancing enemy. Following these, stronger detachments of mounted men
moved out to north and south and east and west to take positions just
inside the line of scouts. These detachments were strong enough to engage
the enemy and impede his progress as they fell back upon the main body of
the cavalry which might by this plan be summoned in time to the point at
which the enemy was making his boldest effort to reach the city.
And then the main body of the cavalry moved out, and in this instance
toward the west, from which point they were already assured the foe was
approaching; while the infantry, which had not paused since it emerged
from the domes, marched likewise toward the four points of the compass in
four compact bodies of which by far the largest moved toward the west.
The advance foot troops took their stations but a short distance outside
the city, while within the area of the domes the last troops to emerge
from them, both cavalry and infantry, remained evidently as a reserve
force, and it was with these troops that Adendrohahkis took his post that
he might be centrally located for the purpose of directing the defense of
his city to better advantage.
Komodoflorensal, the prince, had gone out in command of the main body of
cavalry that was to make the first determined stand against the oncoming
foe. This body consisted of seven thousand five hundred men and its
position lay two miles outside the city, half a mile behind a cavalry
patrol of five hundred men, of which there were four, one at each point
of the compass, and totaling two thousand men. The balance of the ten
thousand advance troops consisted of the five hundred mounted scouts or
vedettes who, in turn, were half a mile in advance of the picket patrols,
at two-hundred-foot intervals, entirely surrounding the city at a
distance of three miles. Inside the city fifteen thousand mounted men
were held in reserve.
In the increasing light of dawn Tarzan watched these methodical
preparations for defense with growing admiration for the tiny Minunians.
There was no shouting and no singing, but on the face of every warrior
who passed close enough for the ape-man to discern his features was an
expression of exalted rapture. No need here for war cries or battle hymns
to bolster the questionable courage of the weak--there were no weak.
The pounding of the hoofs of the advancing Veltopismakusian horde had
ceased. It was evident that their scouts had discovered that the intended
surprise had failed. Were they altering the plan or point of attack, or
had they merely halted the main body temporarily to await the result of a
reconnaissance? Tarzan asked a nearby officer if, perchance, the enemy
had abandoned his intention of attacking at all. The man smiled and shook
his head.
"Minunians never abandon an attack," he said.
As Tarzan's eyes wandered over the city's ten domes, illuminated now by
the rays of the rising sun, he saw in each of the numerous window
embrasures, that pierced the domes at regular intervals at each of their
thirty odd floors, a warrior stationed at whose side lay a great bundle
of short javelins, while just to his rear was piled a quantity of small,
round stones. The ape-man smiled.
"They overlook no possible contingency," he thought. "But the quarry
slaves! what of them? Would they not turn against their masters at the
first opportunity for escape that an impending battle such as this would
be almost certain to present to them?" He turned again to the officer and
put the question to him.
The latter turned and pointed toward the entrance to the nearest quarry,
where Tarzan saw hundreds of white-tunicked slaves piling rocks upon it
while a detachment of infantry leaned idly upon their spears as their
officers directed the labor of the slaves.
"There is another detachment of warriors bottled up inside the quarry
entrance," explained the officer to Tarzan. "If the enemy gains the city
and this outer guard is driven into the domes or killed or captured, the
inner guard can hold off an entire army, as only one man can attack them
at a time. Our slaves are safe, therefore, unless the city falls and that
has not happened to any Minunian city within the memory of man. The best
that the Veltopismakusians can hope for now is to pick up a few
prisoners, but they will doubtless leave behind as many as they take. Had
their surprise been successful they might have forced their way into one
of the domes and made way with many women and much loot. Now, though, our
forces are too well disposed to make it possible for any but a greatly
superior force to seriously threaten the city itself. I even doubt if our
infantry will be engaged at all."
"How is the infantry disposed?" asked Tarzan.
"Five thousand men are stationed within the windows of the domes,"
replied the officer; "five thousand more comprise the reserve which you
see about you, and from which detachments have been detailed to guard the
quarries. A mile from the city are four other bodies of infantry; those
to the east, north and south having a strength of one thousand men each,
while the one to the west, facing the probable point of attack, consists
of seven thousand warriors."
"Then you think the fighting will not reach the city?" asked Tarzan.
"No. The lucky men today are in the advance cavalry--they will get
whatever fighting there is. I doubt if an infantryman draws a sword or
casts a spear; but that is usually the case--it is the cavalry that
fights, always."
"I take it that you feel unfortunate in not being attached to a cavalry
unit. Could you not be transferred?"
"Oh, we must all take our turns of duty in each branch," explained the
officer. "We are all mounted except for defense of the city and for that
purpose we are assigned to the foot troops for four moons, followed by
five moons in the cavalry"--the word he used was diadetax--"five thousand
men being transferred from one to the other the night of each new moon."
Tarzan turned and looked out across the plain toward the west. He could
see the nearer troops standing at ease, awaiting the enemy. Even the main
body of cavalry, two miles away, he could discern, because there were so
many of them; but the distant pickets and vedettes were invisible. As he
stood leaning upon his spear watching this scene, a scene such as no
other man of his race ever had witnessed, and realized the seriousness of
these little men in the business of war that confronted them, he could
not but think of the people of his own world lining up their soldiers for
purposes usually far less momentous to them than the call to arms that
had brought the tough little warriors of Adendrohahkis swarming from
their pallets in the defense of home and city.
No chicanery of politics here, no thinly veiled ambition of some
potential tyrant, no mad conception of hair-brained dreamers seized by
the avaricious criminal for self-aggrandizement and riches; none of
these, but patriotism of purest strain energized by the powerful urge of
self-preservation. The perfect fighters, the perfect warriors, the
perfect heroes these. No need for blaring trumpets; of no use to them the
artificial aids to courage conceived by captains of the outer world who
send unwilling men to battle for they know not what, deceived by lying
propaganda, enraged by false tales of the barbarity of the foe, whose
anger has been aroused against them by similar means.
During the lull that followed the departure from the city of the last of
the advance troops Tarzan approached Adendrohahkis where he sat astride
his diadet surrounded by a number of his high officers. The king was
resplendent in golden jerkin, a leathern garment upon which small discs
of gold were sewn, overlapping one another. About his waist was a wide
belt of heavy leather, held in place by three buckles of gold, and of
such dimensions as to have almost the appearance of a corset. This belt
supported his rapier and knife, the scabbards of which were heavily
inlaid with gold and baser metals in intricate and beautiful designs.
Leather cuisses protected his upper legs in front covering the thighs to
the knees, while his forearms were encased in metal armlets from wrists
almost to elbows. Upon his feet were strapped tough sandals, with a
circular golden plate protecting each anklebone. A well-shaped leather
casque fitted his head closely.
As Tarzan stopped before him the king recognized the ape-man with a
pleasant greeting. "The captain of the guard reports that it is to you we
owe the first warning of the coming of the Veltopismakusians. Once again
have you placed the people of Trohanadalmakus under deep obligations.
However are we to repay our debt?"
Tarzan gestured deprecatively. "You owe me nothing, King of
Trohanadalmakus," he replied. "Give me your friendship and tell me that I
may go forward and join your noble son, the prince: then all the
obligations shall be upon my head."
"Until the worms of death devour me I shall be your friend always,
Tarzan," returned the king graciously. "Go where you will and that you
choose to go where there should be fighting surprises me not."
It was the first time that any Minunian had addressed him by his name.
Always had he been called Saviour of the Prince, Guest of the King, Giant
of the Forest and by other similar impersonal appellations. Among the
Minunians a man's name is considered a sacred possession, the use of
which is permitted only his chosen friends and the members of his family,
and to be called Tarzan by Adendrohahkis was equivalent to an invitation,
or a command, to the closest personal friendship with the king.
The ape-man acknowledged the courtesy with a bow. "The friendship of
Adendrohahkis is a sacred honor, ennobling those who wear it. I shall
guard it always with my life, as my most treasured possession," he said
in a low voice; nor was the Lord of the Jungle moved by any maudlin
sentimentality as he addressed the king. For these little people he had
long since acknowledged to himself a keen admiration and for the personal
character of Adendrohahkis he had come to have the most profound respect.
Never since he had learned their language had he ceased his inquiries
concerning the manners and the customs of these people, and he had found
the personality of Adendrohahkis so inextricably interwoven with the
lives of his subjects that in receiving the answers to his questions he
could not but absorb unquestionable evidence of the glories of the king's
character.
Adendrohahkis seemed pleased with his words, which he acknowledged
graciously, and then the ape-man withdrew and started toward the front.
On the way he tore a leafy branch from a tree that grew beside his path
for the thought had occurred to him that such a weapon might be useful
against Minunians and he knew not what the day might hold.
He had just passed the advanced infantry when a courier sped by him on a
mad race toward the city. Tarzan strained his eyes ahead, but he could
see no sign of battle and when he reached the main cavalry advance there
was still no indication of an enemy as far ahead as he could see.
Prince Komodoflorensal greeted him warmly and looked a little
wonderingly, perhaps, at the leafy branch he carried across one shoulder.
"What news?" asked Tarzan.
"I have just sent a messenger to the king," replied the prince,
"reporting that our scouts have come in touch with those of the enemy,
who are, as we thought, the Veltopismakusians. A strong patrol from the
outpost in our front pushed through the enemy's scout line and one
courageous warrior even managed to penetrate as far as the summit of the
Hill of Gartolas, from which he saw the entire main body of the enemy
forming for attack. He says there are between twenty and thirty thousand
of them."
As Komodoflorensal ceased speaking, a wave of sound came rolling toward
them from the west.
"They are coming!" announced the prince.