Edgar Rice Burroughs - Tarzan of the Apes

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Tarzan of the Apes

Written By

Edgar Rice Burroughs

www.1Adoni.com

Distributed through 1 E Books

www.1EBooks.com

CONTENTS

I Out to Sea 3

II The Savage Home 15

III Life and Death 26

IV The Apes 34

V The White Ape 43

VI Jungle Battles 52

VII The Light of Knowledge 60

VIII The Tree-top Hunter 73

IX Man and Man 80

X The Fear-Phantom 93

XI "King of the Apes" 99

XII Man's Reason 111

XIII His Own Kind 121

XIV At the Mercy of the Jungle 138

XV The Forest God 149

XVI "Most Remarkable" 155

XVII Burials 166

XVIII The Jungle Toll 178

XIX The Call of the Primitive 191

XX Heredity 203

XXI The Village of Torture 218

XXII The Search Party 226

XXIII Brother Men 238

XXIV Lost Treasure 249

XXV The Outpost of the World 259

XXVI The Height of Civilization 273

XXVII The Giant Again 286

XXVIII Conclusion 302

Chapter 1Chapter 1

Out to SeaOut to Sea

I had this story from one who had no business to tell it to

me, or to any other. I may credit the seductive influence

of an old vintage upon the narrator for the beginning of it,

and my own skeptical incredulity during the days that followed

for the balance of the strange tale.

When my convivial host discovered that he had told me so

much, and that I was prone to doubtfulness, his foolish pride

assumed the task the old vintage had commenced, and so he

unearthed written evidence in the form of musty manuscript,

and dry official records of the British Colonial Office to support

many of the salient features of his remarkable narrative.

I do not say the story is true, for I did not witness the

happenings which it portrays, but the fact that in the telling

of it to you I have taken fictitious names for the principal

characters quite sufficiently evidences the sincerity of my own

belief that it MAY be true.

The yellow, mildewed pages of the diary of a man long dead, and

the records of the Colonial Office dovetail perfectly with the

narrative of my convivial host, and so I give you the story as

I painstakingly pieced it out from these several various agencies.

If you do not find it credible you will at least be as one

with me in acknowledging that it is unique, remarkable, and

interesting.

From the records of the Colonial Office and from the dead

man's diary we learn that a certain young English nobleman,

whom we shall call John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, was

commissioned to make a peculiarly delicate investigation of

conditions in a British West Coast African Colony from whose

simple native inhabitants another European power was

known to be recruiting soldiers for its native army, which it

used solely for the forcible collection of rubber and ivory

from the savage tribes along the Congo and the Aruwimi.

The natives of the British Colony complained that many of

their young men were enticed away through the medium of

fair and glowing promises, but that few if any ever returned

to their families.

The Englishmen in Africa went even further, saying that

these poor blacks were held in virtual slavery, since after

their terms of enlistment expired their ignorance was imposed

upon by their white officers, and they were told that they had

yet several years to serve.

And so the Colonial Office appointed John Clayton to a new

post in British West Africa, but his confidential instructions

centered on a thorough investigation of the unfair treatment

of black British subjects by the officers of a friendly

European power. Why he was sent, is, however, of little moment

to this story, for he never made an investigation, nor,

in fact, did he ever reach his destination.

Clayton was the type of Englishman that one likes best to

associate with the noblest monuments of historic achievement

upon a thousand victorious battlefields--a strong, virile man

--mentally, morally, and physically.

In stature he was above the average height; his eyes were

gray, his features regular and strong; his carriage that of

perfect, robust health influenced by his years of army training.

Political ambition had caused him to seek transference

from the army to the Colonial Office and so we find him, still

young, entrusted with a delicate and important commission in

the service of the Queen.

When he received this appointment he was both elated and

appalled. The preferment seemed to him in the nature of a

well-merited reward for painstaking and intelligent service,

and as a stepping stone to posts of greater importance and

responsibility; but, on the other hand, he had been married to

the Hon. Alice Rutherford for scarce a three months, and it

was the thought of taking this fair young girl into the dangers

and isolation of tropical Africa that appalled him.

For her sake he would have refused the appointment, but she

would not have it so. Instead she insisted that he accept,

and, indeed, take her with him.

There were mothers and brothers and sisters, and aunts

and cousins to express various opinions on the subject, but as

to what they severally advised history is silent.

We know only that on a bright May morning in 1888,

John, Lord Greystoke, and Lady Alice sailed from Dover on

their way to Africa.

A month later they arrived at Freetown where they chartered

a small sailing vessel, the Fuwalda, which was to bear

them to their final destination.

And here John, Lord Greystoke, and Lady Alice, his wife,

vanished from the eyes and from the knowledge of men.

Two months after they weighed anchor and cleared from

the port of Freetown a half dozen British war vessels were

scouring the south Atlantic for trace of them or their little

vessel, and it was almost immediately that the wreckage was

found upon the shores of St. Helena which convinced the

world that the Fuwalda had gone down with all on board,

and hence the search was stopped ere it had scarce begun;

though hope lingered in longing hearts for many years.

The Fuwalda, a barkentine of about one hundred tons,

was a vessel of the type often seen in coastwise trade

in the far southern Atlantic, their crews composed of

the offscourings of the sea--unhanged murderers and

cutthroats of every race and every nation.

The Fuwalda was no exception to the rule. Her officers

were swarthy bullies, hating and hated by their crew.

The captain, while a competent seaman, was a brute in his

treatment of his men. He knew, or at least he used, but two

arguments in his dealings with them--a belaying pin and a

revolver--nor is it likely that the motley aggregation

he signed would have understood aught else.

So it was that from the second day out from Freetown

John Clayton and his young wife witnessed scenes upon the

deck of the Fuwalda such as they had believed were never

enacted outside the covers of printed stories of the sea.

It was on the morning of the second day that the first link

was forged in what was destined to form a chain of circumstances

ending in a life for one then unborn such as has never been

paralleled in the history of man.

Two sailors were washing down the decks of the Fuwalda,

the first mate was on duty, and the captain had stopped to

speak with John Clayton and Lady Alice.

The men were working backwards toward the little party

who were facing away from the sailors. Closer and closer

they came, until one of them was directly behind the captain.

In another moment he would have passed by and this strange

narrative would never have been recorded.

But just that instant the officer turned to leave Lord and

Lady Greystoke, and, as he did so, tripped against the sailor

and sprawled headlong upon the deck, overturning the water-

pail so that he was drenched in its dirty contents.

For an instant the scene was ludicrous; but only for an instant.

With a volley of awful oaths, his face suffused with the

scarlet of mortification and rage, the captain regained his

feet, and with a terrific blow felled the sailor to the deck.

The man was small and rather old, so that the brutality of

the act was thus accentuated. The other seaman, however,

was neither old nor small--a huge bear of a man, with fierce

black mustachios, and a great bull neck set between massive

shoulders.

As he saw his mate go down he crouched, and, with a low

snarl, sprang upon the captain crushing him to his knees with

a single mighty blow.

From scarlet the officer's face went white, for this was mutiny;

and mutiny he had met and subdued before in his brutal

career. Without waiting to rise he whipped a revolver from

his pocket, firing point blank at the great mountain of muscle

towering before him; but, quick as he was, John Clayton was

almost as quick, so that the bullet which was intended for the

sailor's heart lodged in the sailor's leg instead, for Lord

Greystoke had struck down the captain's arm as he had seen

the weapon flash in the sun.

Words passed between Clayton and the captain, the former

making it plain that he was disgusted with the brutality

displayed toward the crew, nor would he countenance anything

further of the kind while he and Lady Greystoke remained

passengers.

The captain was on the point of making an angry reply,

but, thinking better of it, turned on his heel and black and

scowling, strode aft.

He did not care to antagonize an English official, for the

Queen's mighty arm wielded a punitive instrument which he could

appreciate, and which he feared--England's far-reaching navy.

The two sailors picked themselves up, the older man assisting

his wounded comrade to rise. The big fellow, who was

known among his mates as Black Michael, tried his leg gingerly,

and, finding that it bore his weight, turned to Clayton

with a word of gruff thanks.

Though the fellow's tone was surly, his words were evidently

well meant. Ere he had scarce finished his little speech he

had turned and was limping off toward the forecastle with the

very apparent intention of forestalling any further conversation.

They did not see him again for several days, nor did the

captain accord them more than the surliest of grunts when he

was forced to speak to them.

They took their meals in his cabin, as they had before the

unfortunate occurrence; but the captain was careful to see

that his duties never permitted him to eat at the same time.

The other officers were coarse, illiterate fellows, but little

above the villainous crew they bullied, and were only too

glad to avoid social intercourse with the polished English

noble and his lady, so that the Claytons were left very much

to themselves.

This in itself accorded perfectly with their desires, but it

also rather isolated them from the life of the little ship so

that they were unable to keep in touch with the daily happenings

which were to culminate so soon in bloody tragedy.

There was in the whole atmosphere of the craft that undefinable

something which presages disaster. Outwardly, to the

knowledge of the Claytons, all went on as before upon the

little vessel; but that there was an undertow leading them

toward some unknown danger both felt, though they did not

speak of it to each other.

On the second day after the wounding of Black Michael,

Clayton came on deck just in time to see the limp body of

one of the crew being carried below by four of his fellows

while the first mate, a heavy belaying pin in his hand, stood

glowering at the little party of sullen sailors.

Clayton asked no questions--he did not need to--and the

following day, as the great lines of a British battleship grew

out of the distant horizon, he half determined to demand that

he and Lady Alice be put aboard her, for his fears were

steadily increasing that nothing but harm could result from

remaining on the lowering, sullen Fuwalda.

Toward noon they were within speaking distance of the

British vessel, but when Clayton had nearly decided to ask

the captain to put them aboard her, the obvious ridiculousness

of such a request became suddenly apparent. What reason

could he give the officer commanding her majesty's ship

for desiring to go back in the direction from which he had

just come!

What if he told them that two insubordinate seamen had

been roughly handled by their officers? They would but laugh

in their sleeves and attribute his reason for wishing to leave

the ship to but one thing--cowardice.

John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, did not ask to be transferred

to the British man-of-war. Late in the afternoon he saw

her upper works fade below the far horizon, but not before

he learned that which confirmed his greatest fears, and

caused him to curse the false pride which had restrained him

from seeking safety for his young wife a few short hours

before, when safety was within reach--a safety which was now

gone forever.

It was mid-afternoon that brought the little old sailor, who

had been felled by the captain a few days before, to where

Clayton and his wife stood by the ship's side watching the

ever diminishing outlines of the great battleship. The old

fellow was polishing brasses, and as he came edging along until

close to Clayton he said, in an undertone:

"'Ell's to pay, sir, on this 'ere craft, an' mark my word for

it, sir. 'Ell's to pay."

"What do you mean, my good fellow?" asked Clayton.

"Wy, hasn't ye seen wats goin' on? Hasn't ye 'eard that

devil's spawn of a capting an' is mates knockin' the bloomin'

lights outen 'arf the crew?

"Two busted 'eads yeste'day, an' three to-day. Black

Michael's as good as new agin an' 'e's not the bully to

stand fer it, not 'e; an' mark my word for it, sir."

"You mean, my man, that the crew contemplates mutiny?"

asked Clayton.

"Mutiny!" exclaimed the old fellow. "Mutiny! They means

murder, sir, an' mark my word for it, sir."

"When?"

"Hit's comin', sir; hit's comin' but I'm not a-sayin' wen, an'

I've said too damned much now, but ye was a good sort

t'other day an' I thought it no more'n right to warn ye. But

keep a still tongue in yer 'ead an' when ye 'ear shootin' git

below an' stay there.

"That's all, only keep a still tongue in yer 'ead, or they'll

put a pill between yer ribs, an' mark my word for it, sir," and

the old fellow went on with his polishing, which carried him

away from where the Claytons were standing.

"Deuced cheerful outlook, Alice," said Clayton.

"You should warn the captain at once, John. Possibly the

trouble may yet be averted," she said.

"I suppose I should, but yet from purely selfish motives I

am almost prompted to `keep a still tongue in my 'ead.'

Whatever they do now they will spare us in recognition of

my stand for this fellow Black Michael, but should they find

that I had betrayed them there would be no mercy shown us, Alice."

"You have but one duty, John, and that lies in the interest

of vested authority. If you do not warn the captain you are

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TarzanoftheApesWrittenByEdgarRiceBurroughsElectronicFormatCopyright1999AdoniPublishingwww.1Adoni.comDistributedthrough1EBookswww.1EBooks.com2CONTENTSIOuttoSea3IITheSavageHome15IIILifeandDeath26IVTheApes34VTheWhiteApe43VIJungleBattles52VIITheLightofKnowledge60VIIITheTree-topHunter73IXManandMan80XTheF...

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