That night, Esteban set up his lonely camp aside along a jungle path that wandered along the dried-up river of the old river. A small brook seeped into the river, ringing to the Spaniard the water he needed.
The delusion that he was indeed Monkey Tarzan gave him a false courage, so that he dared to land alone on a resting tantra without any artificial safety device, and luck had favored him in this respect that the predators had not found him on the occasions too much dared. While Flora Hawkes was still her partner, she had built shelters for the girl, but now that she had left her and was alone again, she might not have found herself so relaxed in the part she had taken that she would even rush the fence to safety in the darkness of the night.
However, he had made a campfire, for he had poured out the creature and had not yet reached the degree of savagery which would have allowed him to be thought to like raw meat.
After eating as much meat as he could milk and drinking enough from a small creek, Esteban returned to crouch by his fire, where he pulled a diamond bag from under his lumbar spine and opened it, pouring a handful of expensive stones into his palm. The shimmering vibrancy of white hitting them sent radiant sparkles into the darkness of the surrounding jungle night, the Spaniard dripping those flickering rocks in a delicate line from one hand to the other. And in this beautiful flame of light, there were prospects for the Spaniard – power, luxury, wonderful women, everything that a man might buy with great wealth. Eyes half aside, she dreamed of the ideal she would seek throughout the world — the dream woman she had always sought but never found — the right partner for the kind of man Esteban Miranda imagined herself to be. Shrinking from the slit of dark lashes that shaded his narrowed eyelids, he already thought he could see in the vibrating light of his campfire the vague embodiment of his dream, a female figure dressed in a flowing, translucent white. It seemed to hover just above him on the outermost edge of the halo on the high bend of the former river.
The vision was strangely enduring. Esteban closed her eyes tightly and then just opened them a little, and there was the revelation as it had been before she closed her eyes. Then he opened them to his back, and still hovered the figure of a white-clad woman above him.
Esteban Miranda turned pale suddenly. “Mother of God!” he blessed. “It’s
Flora. She’s dead and returned as a ghost to haunt.”
With staring eyes, he slowly got to his feet, looking straight at the revelation, speaking in a soft, gentle voice.
“Honey,” it exclaimed, “is it really you!”
Immediately Esteban realized it was no ghost or Floraka – but then who? Who was this ideal of beauty alone in the wild wilderness of Africa?
Very slowly it now stepped down from the shore hut and came towards him. Esteban put the diamonds back in the bag and put it under his lumbar back again.
With open arms came the woman towards him. “My dear, my dear,” he shouted, “don’t tell me you don’t know me!”
The woman was now close enough for the Spaniard to see her violently bubbling breasts and lips vibrating with love and passion. A sudden gust of hot desire overtook him and he rushed his arms outstretched forward to reach the woman and crunch her against his chest.
Following in the footsteps of the man and the woman, Tarzan moved leisurely forward along the jungle path, for he realized that no hurry was necessary to reach the two. And he wasn’t at all surprised to suddenly find a shortened woman lying in the middle of the route. The monkey knelt beside the woman and lowered her hand to his shoulder, causing him to frown in fright.
“Dear God!” exclaimed the girl; “Now it’s the end of the hands!”
“You’re not in danger,” said the monkey man; “I’m not doing you any harm.”
The woman turned her gaze to him. At first he thought the man was Esteban.
“Have you come back to save me, Esteban?” he asked.
“Esteban!” exclaimed another. “I’m not Esteban. That’s not my name.” And then the maiden knew her.
“Loordi Greystoke!” he officiated. “Did you really?”
“Yes,” said the ape, “and who are you?”
“I am Flora Hawkes. Lady Greystoke, seeing I was a chambermaid.”
“Now I remember you,” Tarzan said. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m afraid to tell you that,” the girl crocheted. “I’m afraid of your anger.”
“Tell me,” the lord said. “You know, Flora, I’m not doing harm to women.”
“We came to pick up gold from Opar’s vaults,” the maiden explained, “but you know that.”
“I don’t know anything about it,” the monkey said. “Do you mean you were with those Europeans who drank me drug and left me in their camp?”
“Yes,” admitted the girl, “and we got the gold, but you came with your wazires to take it away from us.”
“I didn’t come from my wazire to take anything from you,” Tarzan said.
“I don’t understand now.”
Flora raised her eyebrows in
amazement , for she knew that Monkey Tarzan was not lying.
“We had to separate,” he crocheted, “then when our men turned against us. Esteban stole me from the others, and after a while Kraski found us. He was Russian. He had a bag of diamonds with him, and then Esteban killed him and took the diamonds.”
Now it was Tarzan’s turn to be amazed.
“And Estebanko is the man who is with you?” he asked.
“That’s right,” replied the girl, “but she has abandoned me. I could not walk any further on my stony feet. She left, leaving me here to die, and took the diamonds with her.”
“Yes we will find him,” said the monkey man. “Come on.”
“But I can’t walk,” the girl crocheted.
“There’s no harm in that,” the other replied, bowing and lifting him on his shoulders.
Lightly, the monkey carried the starved girl along the path. “It’s not a long way to the water,” he said, “and you need water. It will revitalize and intensify you, and maybe I can find food for you soon.”
“Why are you so kind to me?” asked the girl.
“You are a woman. I could not leave you alone in the jungle to death, no matter what you did.”
And Flora Hawkes could do nothing but sobb an intermittent apology for the wrong she had done to her.
It became quite dark, but still they continued along a quiet route until Tarzan noticed a white glow from a distance.
“I think we’ll meet your friend soon,” he whispered. “Don’t swallow anything.”
Moments later, his precise ears separated human voices. He stopped and dropped the girl to his feet.
“If you can’t follow,” he said, “so wait here. I don’t want him to run away. I’ll be back to you soon. If you can follow his leisurely, do so.” And then he left him and carefully stepped forward toward the light and sound. He heard Flora Hawkes moving right behind her. Apparently this could not stand the idea of being left alone in the dark jungle again. Almost at the same time, Tarzan separated the shallow drift from a step away from his right side.
“Jad-bal-ja,” he whispered quietly, “to the hocks!” And a big, black-brushed lion crept right next to him, and suffocating the flushing Flora Hawkes rushed beside him and grabbed his arm. “Shut up,” whispered the monkey, “Jad-bal-and do no harm to you.”
Moments later, all three came to the side of the old riverbed and peeked through the long grass growing there into the small camp below.
To his surprise, Tarzan saw his own ghost standing in front of a small fire, while a woman clad in a flowing white suit was approaching her leisurely and arms spread out. He heard his words — sweet words of love and affection. And as he heard the tone of voice and felt the stream of fragrance that the gust of wind suddenly carried into his nostrils, various movements filled his heart — happiness, despair, ferocity, love, and anger.
Tarzan saw a man stepping out of the open arms by the fire, abducting the woman in the breast. But then he, splitting the grass, leaped all the way to the side, and his voice shook the jungle with a single word.
“Jane!” he shouted, and in the blink of an eye the man and woman turned to look at him, the campfire dimly illuminating his character. Seeing him, the man turned and slid into the jungle on the opposite side of the river; and then Tarzan jumped down to the bottom of the river, running towards the woman. “Jane,” he shouted, “you are it, you are it!” The woman looked genuinely amazed. He first looked at the fleeing man he had been in his embrace, and then looked at Tarzan. Shading his eyes with his fingers, he glanced back at Esteban, but Esteban was no longer visible. Then he staggered toward the ape.
“Good God,” he exclaimed, “what does this mean? Who are you, and if you are Tarzan, then who was he?”
“I am Tarzan, Jane,” quoth the monkey man.
The woman looked behind her and saw Flora Hawkes approaching.
“Yes,” he said, “I saw you as you ran out into the jungle with Flora Hawkes. I can’t understand this, John. I couldn’t believe that even if you had an injury to your head, you could have done so.”
“Did I run into the jungle with Flora Hawkes?” asked the monkey, unpretentiously puzzled.
“I saw you,” Jane crocheted.
The monkey turned to Flora. “I don’t understand this,” he said.
“Esteban it ran with me in the jungle, Lady Greystoke,” the girl explained. “And Esteban was betraying you again. Here’s the real Lord Greystoke. That other one was the traitor who just abandoned me and left me in the jungle to death. If Lord Greystoke hadn’t come when he came, I would be dead now.”
Lady Greystoke staggered toward her husband. “Ah, John,” he exclaimed, “I knew it couldn’t be you. My heart told it to me even though my eyes betrayed me. Quickly,” he urged, “that traitor must be caught. Hurry, John, before he can get run away. ”
“Let him go,” said the monkey man. “As glad as I want to get his hands on me, as much as I miss what he stole from me, I will no longer leave you alone in the jungle, Jane, even to reach him.”
“What about Jad-bal-ja?” crocheted Jane. “Isn’t it?”
“Kah,” exclaimed the monkey, “I had forgotten,” and turning to his lion, he pointed in the direction in which the Spaniard had fled. “Pick him up, Jad-bal-ja,” he said, and immediately jumped the amber beast to follow in the footsteps of his prey.
“Will it kill him?” asked Flora Hawkes in horror. And yet he was happy in his heart about the fate that threatened the Spaniard.
“No, it’s not killing him,” Monkey Tarzan explained. “Maybe it’ll make him look a little bit, but it’ll bring him here alive if possible.” And then he, as if he had already forgotten the fate of the refugee, turned to his wife.
“Jane,” he said, “Usula told me that you were dead. He said that they found the charred body arabialaiskylästä and buried it there. How then are you here alive and uninjured? I’ve been looking Luvinia through the jungles revenge your death. Perhaps it is good I didn’t find him. ”
“You would never have found her,” replied Jane Clayton, “but I can’t understand why Usula would have said she found and buried my body.”
“Some of the prisoners he took,” Tarzan replied, “told him that Luvini had taken you by the hands and feet bound to an Arab cottage near the village gate and there still tied the hut to a pile struck on the perimeter. After the fire had destroyed the village, with the men he had imprisoned, who showed the place of the shack.
“Ah,” exclaimed the lady, “now I understand. My permission did bind me from my hands and feet and tied me to the pile, but later he went back to the shack and removed the ties. He tried to do violence to me. How long we struggled, I don’t know, but we were in such a hard match, that neither of us noticed the burning of the village around us. was over.Almost in the same hut the stern wall and roof flared into the open flame.
“- I was almost naked, for when we struggled he had torn almost all my clothes. On the wall of the hut hung this white burnus, any property of a murdered Arab. I snatched it and threw it over me in the alley of a hasty village. through my gate corridor.On my right hand was a piece of pile fence that the flames had not yet touched.Running into the jungle through the gate would have been like plunging into the arms of my enemies, and so I somehow managed to climb over the pile and throw myself to the side of the jungle without seeing anyone.
“- For me it was quite difficult to avoid the various arriving from the village of Negro troops Part of this time I have been looking wazireja, and at other times I have had to hide I rested a tree fork almost a mile from here, when I saw that man’s campfire loimun, and when I came to check it out almost huumaannuin joy to discover.. that I had found Tarzanini, as I thought. ”
“So they buried Luvin and not your body,” Tarzan said.
“Yeah,” Jane replied, “and that man who had just escaped was the one I saw running out into the jungle with Flora, and not you, as I guessed.”
Flora Hawkes suddenly glanced up. “And it must have been Esteban who came with the Wazirs to usurp the gold. He chatted with our men, as I guess he cheated with the Wazirs.”
“He could have misled anyone because he was able to deceive me, too,” crocheted Jane Clayton. “No doubt I would have noticed the mistake in a few minutes, but in the vibrating light of the campfire and in my infinite joy of meeting my husband, I generously believed what I wanted to believe.”
The monkey man brushed his bushy hair with his characteristic thoughtful movement. “I can’t comprehend how he was able to deceive Usula in the bright daylight,” he said, shaking his head.
“I can,” Jane crocheted. “He told Usula he had an injury to his head, which was supposed to result in partial memory loss – and that explanation made up for many of the misconceptions the man was playing your part.”
“He was a skilled devil,” the monkey pointed out.
“He was indeed a devil,” Flora confirmed.
More than an hour later, the grass suddenly spread across the river, and Jad-bal and dived loudly into their sight. On its jaws hung a bloody and torn panther hoof, which it lowered at the feet of its master.
The monkey man took the hoist, scrutinized it, and frowned.
“Jad-bal-and I guess he would kill him anyway,” he said.
“He thought I did resistance,” crocheted Jane Clayton, “in which case Jad-bal-and couldn’t help but kill him in self-defense.”
“Do you think it ate him?” would ask Flora Hawkes, fearfully withdrawing from the beast.
“No,” Tarzan’s stomach said, “it hasn’t had time for that. In the morning we follow in the footsteps and look for his body. I’d like to get the diamonds back.” And then he told Jane a strange story about an adventure in which he had gotten hold of a large fortune represented by that little diamond bag.
The next morning they set out to search Esteban’s body. The traces led downstream between the dense bush and the thornbush to a steep rocky shore, and there they disappeared; and though the ape searched for both shores a couple, three miles and above and below the point where the traces had disappeared, he no longer met any sign of the Spaniard. Blood was seen in the tracks trampled by Esteban and blood in the grass growing on the edge of the river.
Finally the monkey returned to the women. “It was the end of the man who wanted to pretend to be Tarzan,” he said.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Jane asked.
“I’m on varmakin,” explained the second; “From the blood I conclude that Jad-bal-and bitten him, but that he got rid of himself and threw himself into the stream. When I cannot find any indication that he had swum ashore a reasonable distance from this place, I must assume that the crocodiles are swallowed him. ”
Again, Flora Hawkes was parked. “He was a vicious man,” crocheted the girl, “but I wouldn’t call such a fate to the most vicious.”
The monkey shrugged. “He himself acquired its destiny, and no doubt the world will be happier without him.”
“It was my fault,” Flora said. “My catalysis seduced him and the others here. I told them what I had heard about the gold of Opar’s treasure vault, – I suggested to come here to pick up the gold, looking for a man who could represent Lord Greystoke. Lord Greystoke, and your spouse has been close to death. And I dare not apologize. ”
Jane Clayton wrapped her arms around the girl’s neck. “Greed has been the cause of many crimes since the beginning of the world,” he said, “and when resorted to a crime, it occurs in its most disgusting form and often brings with it its own punishment, as you, Flora, may well testify. For my part, I forgive you. I think you are received adequate instruction. ”
“You’ve paid a high price for your humor,” the monkey said. “You’ve been punished big enough. We’ll take you to your comrades who are on their way to the coast, accompanied by a friendly tribe. They can’t be quite far away, because from the state the men were when I saw them, I decide they can’t march long journeys a day.”
The girl fell to her knees at the base of her feet. “How can I thank you for your kindness?” he crocheted. “But I prefer to stay here in Africa you and Lady Greystoke had to make you work and loyalty to show that I can reconcile injustice, which I have done to you.”
Tarzan glared questioningly at his wife, and Jane Clayton nodded in agreement with the girl’s request.
“Good then,” said the monkey, “you may stay with us, Flora.”
“You never have to regret it,” the girl assured; “I will lay my hands on the slits for you.”
Those three plus Jad-bal-and had been on their way home for three days when Tarzan, who stepped forward, stopped and, raising his head, sniffed the air. Then he turned to them with a smile. “Wazirini are disobedient,” he said. “I sent them home and over there they are coming towards us straight away from home.”
A few minutes later, they encountered a front of the wazirs, and great was the joy of the black as they met both their master and mistress alive and well.
“And now that we’ve met you,” Tarzan said, then after the greetings had been exchanged and countless questions asked and answered, “tell me where you put the gold you seized from the European camp.”
“We hid it, oh bwana, where you told it to hide it,”
Usula replied .
“I was not with you, Usula,” the monkey explained. “He was, by the way, another who betrayed Lady Greystoke, just like you betrayed you – a bad man who appeared as Monkey Tarzan so skillfully that it’s no wonder he pulled you out of his nose.”
“Then it wasn’t you who told us you had been injured and didn’t remember the language of the Wazirs?”
“I wasn’t that,” Tarzan said, “for I haven’t offended my head and I remember well the language of my children.”
“Aha,” exclaimed Usula, “then it wasn’t our big bwan running to Buto, the rhino, to escape?”
Tarzan laughed. “Did that other Butoa escape?”
“That’s what he did,” crocheted Usula, “ran very startled.”
“I can’t blame him,” Tarzan said, “because Buto is no funny playmate.”
“But our great bwan wouldn’t have run it away,” Usula proudly boasted.
“Even if someone other than me was hiding gold, you dug a pit. So guide me to the scene, Usula.”
The Wazirs put on rough but comfortable stretchers for those two white women, though Jane Clayton laughed at the idea that she supposedly had to be carried, and wanted to walk next to her bearers more often than stay on a stretcher. The weak and exhausted Flora Hawkes, on the other hand, would not have gotten far without the plaintiffs, and was therefore glad that the sinewy wazirs were arriving to transport her so lightly along the jungle trail.
It was a happy entourage that rushed its mind towards the place where the Wazirs had hidden the gold for Esteban. The Negroes were in an excellent mood because they had found their master and mistress, while Tarzan and Jane’s sense of relief and joy were indescribable.
When they finally arrived on the bank of the river where the gold was hidden, the wazirs began to dig up the treasure singing and laughing, but soon their songs paused and their laughter turned into exclamations of amazement and worry.
At that moment, Tarzan watched them silently, and then a lazy smile spread across his face. “I guess you’ve buried it deep, Usula,” he said.
The Negro scratched his head. “No, we’re not that deep, bwana,” he exclaimed. “I can’t understand this. We should have found gold already.”
“Are you sure you’re looking for the right place?” Tarzan asked.
“This is the right place, bwana, but the gold isn’t here. Someone has moved it away since we buried it.”
“Spanish again,” Tarzan pointed out. “He was a slippery rogue.”
“But he couldn’t have carried it alone,” Usula said, “it had many ingots.”
“No,” admitted Tarzan, “he couldn’t have, but here it isn’t.”
The Wazirs and Tarzan carefully searched for a place nearby where the gold had been hidden, but Owaza had such a skillful savage instinct that even the monkey’s sharp senses had completely destroyed all the traces he and the Spaniard had trampled while carrying gold from the old hiding place to the new.
“It’s gone,” said the monkey, “but I’ll make sure it’s not taken out of Africa,” and he sent messengers in different directions to inform the chiefs of the kind tribes surrounding his area that they were carefully keeping an eye on every safari passing through their lands and would not allow a single gold. passing through the region.
“Yes, they will be stopped now,” he crocheted after the heralds had left.
When they had encamped by the path leading home that night, those three whites sat by a small campfire, with Jad-bal -ja lounging just behind the monkey man; the latter looked at the panther harness that the golden lion had rushed from the Spaniard. Then Tarzan suddenly turned towards her husband.
“You were right, Jane,” he said. “Opar’s treasure vaults are not for me. This time I have not only lost gold, but also an infinite diamond treasure, and besides, endangered the most precious of all treasures – you yourself.”
“Let the gold and diamonds go, John,” crocheted the spouse; “After all, we have each other and Korak.”
“And a bloody panther hoof,” added the ape, “with a mysterious map painted in blood.”
Jad-bal-and sniffed the hoist and licked his lips waiting or remembering – what?