On the path of revenge

As Monkey Tarzan, adjusting his pace to the footsteps of Jad-bal-jaja, moved relatively slowly towards home, he pondered with varying degrees the experiences of the past week. Although he had failed to seize the treasures from Opar’s vaults, the diamond bag he held replaced the plan’s emptying many times over. His only concern now was the safety of his wazirs, and perhaps he was also embarrassed by the desire to find in his hands the Caucasians who had intoxicated him with a poisonous drink, and to punish them according to his merits. But when his desire to return home was even greater, he decided not to try to reach them, at least with this wound.

Trapping together, eating meals together and sleeping together, a man and a big lion cuddled along wild jungle paths towards home.

Yesterday they shared Baran, the deer, the meat, today their feast was Horta, the wild boar, their carcass, and so they had little fear that either would have to wander hungry.

They had reached a day’s journey from the farm when Tarzan noticed the traces of a considerable number of warriors. Like some devouring the last stock quotes, it was as if their whole lives depended on knowing them accurately, as well as devouring the slightest hint of Apinain Tarza, which the jungle offered him, for the truth was an accurate knowledge of all such things So even now he carefully examined the traces before him. Although they were several days old and had been partially destroyed by wild animals that had since passed, they were nevertheless clear enough to the monkey man’s sharp eyes and sensitive nostrils. His partial indifference suddenly turned into the most devout interest,

– The Wazirs have returned and told him I was gone, – he brought himself, – and now he has gone with them to look for me. – Tarzan turned to his lion: “Ka, Jad-bal-ja, now we turn away from home again… or not so much where Jane is, there. Is home.”

The direction of the route somewhat confused the Monkey Tarzan, as it did not go directly towards Opar, but rather to the south. On the sixth day his sharp ears separated the voices of the men approaching, and soon a stream of Negroes smelled in his nostrils. Sending Jad-bal-yah to the thicket to hide in Tarzan’s trees, he began to move quickly toward the approaching Negroes. As the distance decreased, the smell intensified until Tarzan knew even before he saw them that they were wazirs; but that one fragrance that would have filled his soul happily was gone.

It was a surprise for Usula when, stepping ahead of her sad and depressed wazirs, she suddenly found herself with her master in the bend of the path.

“Monkey Tarzan!” he exclaimed. “Is that really you?”

“No one else,” replied the ape; “But where’s Lady Greystoke?”

“Ah, sir, how can I tell you that!” sighed Usula.

“What do you mean…?” exclaimed Tarzan. “By no means mitään could anything have happened to him while he was guarded by the Wazirs…”

The warriors’ heads sank with shame and sorrow. “We offer our lives for his spirit,” Usula said unadorned. He threw his spear and shield to the ground and spreading his arms revealed his mighty breast to Tarzan. “Hit, bwana,” he said.

The monkey turned, head bowed, away. Then he looked at Usula again. “Tell me how it happened,” he told me, “and forget the silly recent speech, as I have forgotten the hint, from where it was due.”

Briefly, Usula recounted the events that had led to Jane’s death, and when she finished, Monkey Tarzan uttered only three words, asking her, a monkey man, a characteristic question: “Where is Luvini?”

“Ah, we don’t know that,” Usula replied.

“But I got the information about it,” said Monkey Tarzan. “Keep your journey, my children, back to your huts, to your wives and children, and once you see the Monkey Tarzan, you know that Luvini is dead.”

They asked permission to follow him, but he did not want to hear them.

“You are needed at home at this time of year,” he said; “You have been away from the cattle and the dead for too long. So go back and take the information to Korak, but tell him I wish he would stay home too; – if I can’t, then let him resume my interrupted work if he wants to.”

After ceasing to speak, Tarzan turned again in the direction he had come from, whistling once, in a single, low, stretched tune, and moments later leaping Jad-bal and, as a gold lion, appeared along the jungle path.

“Gold Lion!” exclaimed Usula. “So when he escaped from Kiwaz, he went in search of his beloved bwana.”

Tarzan nodded. “It followed many journeys to the strange ground until I was found,” he crocheted. He then said goodbye to the wazires and headed once more away from home to find and retaliate against Luvin.

Wedge into the fork of a large tree, John Peebles greeted the dawning day with tired eyes. Close to him, Dick Throck crouched on a similar fork, whereas the smarter and therefore more resourceful Kraski had set up a stage of smaller branches for the support of two parallel mother branches with which he rested relatively comfortably. Ten feet above him, Bluber swayed half-starved and completely startled by the smaller branch, in which position he was supported as a precarious safety device by a fork in the same side frame.

“Hiisi,” Peebles moaned, “I’d rather eat those damn lions than spend another night like this – and here it is, so be it!”

“That, a thousand of the hottest, I say too,” Throck said. “that half of this I sleep on the ground, be it lions or not.”

“If the three of you usually had even a walrus intelligence,” Kraski pointed out, “then we would have slept somewhat safely and comfortably on the ground last night.”

“Hey, Bluber, Mr. Kraski is challenging you,” Peebles shouted nicely, emphasizing the word “Mr..”

“Oh, oh! I don’t care what anyone says,” Bluber shouted.

“It wants to build a cottage for itself that lasts,” Peebles continued, “standing next to himself explaining to us so damn well how to put it, and he, the great gentleman, doesn’t cross the card with his own hands.”

“Why would I do the work with my hands when you two big bears have nothing else to do?” asked Kraski. “You would all have starved to death if I had not provided you with food. And as lions’ food, you will eventually be exhausted or die of exhaustion if you do not listen to me. Not that you will be greatly harmed!”

Others paid no attention to his recent outburst. After all, they had quarreled so much and for so long that they really didn’t care much for each other’s words. Except for Peebles and Throck, they all hated each other from the bottom of their hearts and stayed together just because they didn’t dare to separate. Slowly, Peebles lowered his carcass to the ground. Throck followed, then Kraski, and finally, lastly, Bluber, who stood for a moment’s voice, checking his torn clothes.

” Mein Gott !” he exclaimed then. “Look at me! Let’s make a suit: whoever paid twenty pounds, look at it. With billiards, with billiards! It wouldn’t make as much copper money anymore.”

“We’re in your costume!” exclaimed Kraski. “Here we are lost, starving, always threatened by beasts and catnip-eaters, and Flora away in the jungle, and there you stand chattering on your twenty-pound suit. You’re tiring me, Bluber. But step on, we might as well be on the move.”

“Whereabouts?” Throck asked.

“Well, towards the west, of course,” Kraski replied. “The coast is there, and we have no advice but to try to reach it.”

“We can’t achieve it by going east,” Peebles shouted, “and here it is now, so that’s it.”

“Who has said we could,” Kraski asked.

“Well, we wandered east all day yesterday,” Peebles said. “I knew all along that something was wrong, and right now I found out.”

Throck looked at his partner in silly astonishment. “What do you mean?” he said. “Where do you infer that we wandered east?”

“It’s fundamentally easy to figure out,” replied Peebles, “and I can prove it to you. Because that sword knows so much more than the rest of us, we’ve been doing the same straight inland ever since the Negroes left us.” He nodded toward the Russian, who stood with his hands in a gust, strangely looking at others.

“If you think that I have led you in the wrong direction, Peebles,” quoth Kraski, “so käännyhän the other way around; but I will continue my old career, which is the right way to go.”

“It’s not right,” Peebles snapped, “and I’ll explain to you. Listen. Moving west, the sun is on the left – namely at noon – isn’t it? But since we’ve traveled without black masks, the sun has been on our right. Yes it seemed like something was wrong all the time, but I didn’t make sense of it until now. It’s as clear as your face. We’ve been heading straight east all the time. ”

“Lempo to the oval,” exclaimed Throck, “so we are, all the way to the east, and that Mokoma thinks he understands all things!”

“Oh,” moaned Bluber, “and now do we have to walk all the way back one more time?”

Kraski laughed and turned away in the direction he had chosen. “You, Veikko, go your own way if you want,” he said, “and think about the fact that you’re on your way south of the equator, so the sun is in the north, which doesn’t change its old-fashioned way of setting west.”

Bluber was the first to realize the truth of Krask’s words. “Come on, boys,” he crocheted. “Karl to be right,” and he turned to follow the Russian.

Peebles stood scratching his ears, quite puzzled by this difficult problem, which Throck also thought deeply. The latter then turned to follow in the footsteps of Krask and Bluber.

“Come away,” he shouted at Peebles, “I don’t understand this, but yes maar they’re right. After all, they’re going straight to where the sun went down last night, and there’s probably the west.”

Peebles’ theory began to falter, and he followed Throck, though he was still unsure.

Hungry and with their legs cracked, those four men had dragged along the jungle path to the west, searching for the game in vain. Unusual to move in the jungle, they randomly moved forward. There might have been wild beasts or ferocious warriors on every side, but the instincts of perception of civilized people are so dull that even the enemy of noise could have lurked for them without them noticing.

So then, at about noon, an arrow fluttering just
past Bluber’s head made them stop abruptly and frightened.
Screaming loudly in fear, the Jew flew to the ground. Kraski lifted the
rifle against his shoulder and fired.
“Over there,” he shouted, “behind those bushes!” And then an arrow fluttering from the other direction pierced his forearm. Heavy and clumsy, Peebles and Throck didn’t get into position as quickly as the Russian, but they showed no sign of fear.

“To the ground,” commanded Kraski, acting on his own instructions. “Get down on your stomach and give them what it takes!”

Barely those three men had thrown themselves into the long grass when twenty dwarf hunters came to the open and an arrow deafle slid over the lying men, while two steel-gray eyes from a nearby tree watched the ambush.

Bluber crawled on his stomach on the ground, his face covered in hands and the rifle useless next to him, but Kraski, Peebles and Throck fought for their lives, flying the lead to howling dwarves.

Both Kraski and Peebles knocked down the natives with their rifles, and then the enemy retreated to the shelter of the surrounding jungle. For a moment, the hostilities ceased. The silence of the tomb prevailed until it was interrupted by the sound of a nearby forest giant echoing in the vegetables.

“Do not trigger until I command,” it said in English, “so I will save you.”

Bluber raised his head. “Come soon, come soon!” he shouted. “No we shoot. Save me, save me, and I’ll give you five Pundas.”

There was a single, shallow, stretched whistle from the tree from which the sound echoed, and then followed the silence of the moment.

The dwarves, astonished for a moment by the mysterious sound from the foliage of the tree, ceased their activities, but when they then heard nothing more frightening, they emerged from the shelter’s shelter and threw another arrow of rain toward the four men lying in the grass. As the white giant figure jumped from the lower branches of the jungle patriarch, a large black-bristled lion jumped from below the thicket.

“Oh!” shouted Bluber and covered his face with his arms again.

For a moment the dwarves stood startled, and then their boss shouted, “It’s Tarzan!” and turned to flee to the jungle.

“So, I’m Tarzan – Apinain Tarzan,” cried loordi Greystoke. “Here are Tarzan and the gold lion.” But he challenged the language of the dwarves, so the whites did not realize a word of his speech. Then he turned to these “Gomangans have gone their way,” he said, “get up!”

All four men stood upright. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” asked Monkey Tarzan. “But I don’t need to inquire who you are. You are the same ones who drugged me and left helpless in your camp as the prey of the first passing lion or wild aboriginal.”

Bluber stumbled out, rubbing his palms together, fluttering and smiling.

“Oh, oh, Mr. Tarzan, we didn’t know you! We would never have done ‘it if we had known’ that you were Tarzan the Monkey. Save me! Ten Punda – twenty Punda – whatever. Tell me what it costs. Save me, and all the money will be yours. ”

Tarzan did not care about the Jew, but turned to others. “I’m looking for one of your men,” he said, “a Negro named Luvini. He killed my wife. Where is he?”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Kraski explained. “My permits betrayed us and left us. Your spouse and another white woman were in our camp at the time. None of us know where they are. They were behind us as we set up to defend the camp against our own men and Arab slaves. the enemy had withdrawn, we found that those two women had disappeared. We don’t know what has happened to them. We are just looking for them. ”

“The same thing told me wazirini,” crocheted Tarzan; “But haven’t you seen Luvin at all since?”

“We are not,” Kraski replied.

“What are you doing here?” Tarzan asked.

“We came with Mr. Bluber on a scientific expedition,” Kraski replied. “We have encountered a lot of resistance. Our guide, our warriors with their leaders and our bearers rose up and ran away. We are all alone and helpless.”

“Oh, oh!” exclaimed Bluber. “Save us, Save us! But keep that lion away. It makes me nervous.”

“It won’t hurt you – if I don’t tell you to,” Tarzan said.

“Then be good and not command it,” Bluber prayed.

“Where are you going?” asked Tarzan.

“We’re trying to get back to the coast,” replied Kraski, “and from there
to London.”
“Come with me,” Tarzan said, “maybe I can help you. You don’t deserve it, but I can’t leave the Caucasians here in the jungle to death.”

They followed him east and camped for the night on the edge of a small jungle stream.

It was difficult for the four Londoners to get used to the presence of the big lion, and
Bluber was in a state of apparent fear.
As they squatted around the campfire after Tarzan’s dinner, Kraski suggested that some sort of shelter against predators be built.

“It’s not necessary,” Tarzan said. “Jad-bal-and guards you. It sleeps next to the Monkey Tarzan, and what one of us doesn’t hear, the other hears.”

Bluber sighed.

” Mein Gott !” he shouted. “I would give ten Pounds one night’s sleep.”

“You can get it tonight for cheaper,” Tarzan said, “because nothing will happen to you when Jad-bal-and and I are arriving.”

“Well, then I think I’m saying good night,” the Jew crocheted, and taking a few steps away from the white, he wrapped himself in his cloak and was soon in the hem of his sleep. Throck and Peebles followed suit and soon after that Kraskik as well.

Lying in a half-nap, eyes wide open, the Russian saw the monkey man rise from his previous squatting position and turn toward a nearby tree. There was something falling from under his lumbar spine – a small leather bag that was full of something.

Kraski, who was now fully awake, watched it with his eyes as the monkey, followed by Jad-bal-ja, moved a short distance to where he set out to sleep.

The big lion hurried next to the lying man, and soon the Russian became sure that they were both asleep. As soon as he began to covertly crawl towards the small mule by the fire. With each movement, he stopped and looked at the two ferocious beasts lying in front of him, but they slept peacefully. Finally, the Russian could reach for the bag with his hand and, pulling it to him, quickly stuffed it on the bust of his shirt. He then turned and crawled leisurely and carefully into place on the other side of the campfire. There, he, lying on his head with his other arm as if in a deep sleep, carefully felt the bag with the fingers of his left hand.

– They felt like small stones, – he thought, – and no doubt they were, brutal decorations for that wild barbarian who is an English head. It does not seem possible that that wild beast was sitting in the upper house of Parliament.

Silently, Kraski opened the knot at the mouth of the sealed bag, and moments later he rolled some of its contents into the palm of his hand.

– Dear time, diamonds! – he rejoiced. Greedily he poured them all out and stared at them lustfully. Big, shimmering rocks, the purest species! Five pounds of shimmering, white diamonds that represented such a fabulous wealth that the Russian’s head dizzy as he thought about it.

– Dear time, – he repeated, – in my hand the treasures of Krois!

Quickly he collected the stones and put them back in the bag, with one eye always blinking at Tarzan and Jad-bal; but neither of these faded, and soon he had returned all the diamonds to the bag and slipped it under his shirt.

– Tomorrow, – he thought, – tomorrow… I wish I had the attitude to try it tonight!

In the middle of the next morning, Tarzan approached with four Londoners a rather large piled village with many huts. He was received not only favorably, but with reverence for the ruler.

The whites were hugely impressed by the tone of the black master and his warriors when Tarzan was brought before them.

After the usual greeting ceremony was completed, Tarzan turned and pointed with his hand at four Europeans. “These are my friends,” he said to the black master, “and they want to get to the coast safely. So, according to them, send enough warriors to catch them game and protect them along the way. I, Monkey Tarzan, am asking you for this praise.”

“Monkey Tarzan, the great master, the lord of the jungle, only needs to command,” the Negro replied.

“Good,” exclaimed Tarzan. “Feed them well and treat them well!
I have other chores and I can’t stay here.”
“Their stomachs will be filled, and they will reach the coast unharmed.”

Without saying a word of farewell, without showing the slightest sign that he was aware of their presence, Monkey Tarzan left those four Europeans visible, Jad-bal-ja, the golden lion, pawn on his hocks.