Edgar Rice Burroughs - Tarzan 12 - Tarzan and the Lost Empire

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Tarzan and the Lost
Empire by Edgar
Rice Burroughs
Chapter One
NKIMA danced excitedly upon the naked, brown shoulder of
his master. He chattered and scolded, now looking up
inquiringly into Tarzan's face and then off into the jungle.
"Something is coming, Bwana," said Muviro, sub-chief of the
Waziri. "Nkima has heard it."
"And Tarzan," said the ape-man.
"The big Bwana's ears are as keen as the ears of Bara the
antelope," said Muviro.
"Had they not been, Tarzan would not be here today," replied
the ape-man, with a smile. "He would not have grown to
manhood had not Kala, his mother, taught him to use all of the
senses that Mulungu gave him."
"What comes?" asked Muviro.
"A party of men," replied Tarzan.
"Perhaps they are not friendly," suggested the African. "Shall I
warn the warriors?"
Tarzan glanced about the little camp where a score of his
fighting men were busy preparing their evening meal and saw
that, as was the custom of the Waziri, their weapons were in
order and at hand.
"No," he said. "It will, I believe, be unnecessary, as these
people who are approaching do not come stealthily as enemies
would, nor are their numbers so great as to cause us any
apprehension."
But Nkima, a born pessimist, expected only the worst, and as
the approaching party came nearer his excitement increased. He
leaped from Tarzan's shoulder to the ground, jumped up and
down several times and then, springing back to Tarzan's side,
seized his arm and attempted to drag him to his feet.
"Run, run!" he cried, in the language of the apes. "Strange
Gomangani are coming. They will kill little Nkima."
"Do not be afraid, Nkima," said the ape-man. "Tarzan and
Muviro will not let the strangers hurt you."
"I smell a strange Tarmangani," chattered Nkima. "There is a
Tarmangani with them. The Tarmangani are worse than the
Gomangani. They come with thundersticks and kill little Nkima
and all his brothers and sisters. They kill the Mangani. They kill
the Gomangani. They kill everything with their thundersticks.
Nkima does not like the Tarmangani. Nkima is afraid."
To Nkima, as to the other denizens of the jungle, Tarzan was
no Tarmangani, no white man. He was of the jungle. He was one
of them, and if they thought of him as being anything other than
just Tarzan it was as a Mangani, a great ape, that they classified
him.
The advance of the strangers was now plainly audible to
everyone in the camp. The Waziri warriors glanced into the
jungle in the direction from which the sounds were coming and
then back to Tarzan and Muviro, but when they saw that their
leaders were not concerned they went quietly on with their
cooking.
A tall Negro warrior was the first of the party to come within
sight of the camp. When he saw the Waziri he halted and an
instant later a bearded white man stopped beside him.
For an instant the white man surveyed the camp and then he
came forward, making the sign of peace. Out of the jungle a
dozen or more warriors followed him. Most of them were porters,
there being but three or four rifles in evidence.
Tarzan and the Waziri realized at once that it was a small and
harmless party, and even Nkima, who had retreated to the safety
of a near-by tree, showed his contempt by scampering fearlessly
back to climb to the shoulder of his master.
"Doctor von Harben!" exclaimed Tarzan, as the bearded
stranger approached. "I scarcely recognized you at first."
"God has been kind to me, Tarzan of the Apes," said von
Harben, extending his hand. "I was on my way to see you and I
have found you a full two days march sooner than I expected."
"We are after a cattle-killer," explained Tarzan. "He has come
into our kraal several nights of late and killed some of our best
cattle, but he is very cunning. I think he must be an old lion to
outwit Tarzan for so long.
"But what brings you into Tarzan's country, Doctor? I hope it
is only a neighborly visit and that no trouble has come to my
good friend, though your appearance belies my hope."
"I, too, wish that it were nothing more than a friendly call,"
said von Harben, "but as a matter of fact I am here to seek your
help because I am in trouble—very serious trouble, I fear."
"Do not tell me that the Arabs have come down again to take
slaves or to steal ivory, or is it that the leopard men are
waylaying your people upon the jungle trails at night?"
"No, it is neither the one nor the other. I have come to see you
upon a more personal matter. It is about my son, Erich. You
have never met him."
"No," said Tarzan; "but you are tired and hungry. Let your
men make camp here. My evening meal is ready; while you and I
eat you shall tell me how Tarzan may serve you."
As the Waziri, at Tarzan's command, assisted von Harben's
men in making their camp, the doctor and the ape-man sat
cross-legged upon the ground and ate the rough fare that
Tarzan's Waziri cook had prepared.
Tarzan saw that his guest's mind was filled with the trouble
that had brought him in search of the ape-man, and so he did
not wait until they had finished the meal to reopen the subject,
but urged von Harben to continue his story at once.
"I wish to preface the real object of my visit with a few words
of explanation," commenced von Harben. "Erich is my only son.
Four years ago, at the age of nineteen, he completed his
university course with honors and received his first degree. Since
then he has spent the greater part of his time in pursuing his
studies in various European universities, where he has
specialized in archaeology and the study of dead languages. His
one hobby, outside of his chosen field, has been mountain
climbing and during succeeding summer vacations he scaled
every important Alpine peak.
"A few months ago he came here to visit me at the mission
and immediately became interested in the study of the various
Bantu dialects that are in use by the several tribes in our district
and those adjacent thereto.
"While pursuing his investigation among the natives he ran
across that old legend of The Lost Tribe of the Wiramwazi
Mountains, with which we are all so familiar. Immediately his
mind became imbued, as have the minds of so many others, with
the belief that this fable might have originated in fact and that if
he could trace it down he might possibly find descendants of one
of the lost tribes of Biblical history."
"I know the legend well," said Tarzan, "and because it is so
persistent and the details of its narration by the natives so
circumstantial, I have thought that I should like to investigate it
myself, but in the past no necessity has arisen to take me close to
the Wiramwazi Mountains."
"I must confess," continued the doctor, "that I also have had
the same urge many times. I have upon two occasions talked
with men of the Bagego tribe that live upon the slopes of the
Wiramwazi Mountains and in both instances I have been
assured that a tribe of white men dwells somewhere in the
depths of that great mountain range. Both of these men told me
that their tribe has carried on trade with these people from time
immemorial and each assured me that he had often seen
members of The Lost Tribe both upon occasions of peaceful
trading and during the warlike raids that the mountaineers
occasionally launched upon the Bagego.
"The result was that when Erich suggested an expedition to
the Wiramwazi I rather encouraged him, since he was well fitted
to undertake the adventure. His knowledge of Bantu and his
intensive, even though brief, experience among the natives gave
him an advantage that few scholars otherwise equipped by
education to profit by such an expedition would have, while his
considerable experience as a mountain climber would, I felt,
stand him in good stead during such an adventure.
"On the whole I felt that he was an ideal man to lead such an
expedition, and my only regret was that I could not accompany
him, but this was impossible at the time. I assisted him in every
way possible in the organization of his safari and in equipping
and provisioning it.
"He has not been gone a sufficient length of time to
accomplish any considerable investigation and return to the
mission, but recently a few of the members of his safari were
reported to me as having returned to their villages. When I
sought to interview them they avoided me, but rumors reached
me that convinced me that all was not well with my son. I
therefore determined to organize a relief expedition, but in all
my district I could find only these few men who dared
accompany me to the Wiramwazi Mountains, which, their
legends assure them, are inhabited by malign spirits—for, as you
know, they consider The Lost Tribe of the Wiramwazi to be a
band of bloodthirsty ghosts. It became evident to me that the
deserters of Erich's safari had spread terror through the district.
"Under the circumstances I was compelled to look elsewhere
for help and naturally I turned, in my perplexity, to Tarzan, Lord
of the Jungle… Now you know why I am here."
"I will help you, Doctor," said Tarzan, after the other had
concluded.
"Good!" exclaimed von Harben; "but I knew that you would.
You have about twenty men here, I should judge, and I have
about fourteen. My men can act as carriers, while yours, who are
acknowledged to be the finest fighting men in Africa, can serve
as askaris. With you to guide us we can soon pick up the trail
and with such a force, small though it be, there is no country
that we cannot penetrate."
Tarzan shook his head. "No, Doctor," he said, "I shall go alone.
That is always my way. Alone I may travel much more rapidly
and when I am alone the jungle holds no secrets from me—I shall
be able to obtain more information along the way than would be
possible were I accompanied by others. You know the jungle
people consider me as one of themselves. They do not run away
from me as they would from you and other men."
"You know best," said von Harben. "I should like to
accompany you. I should like to feel that I am doing my share,
but if you say no I can only abide by your decision."
"Return to your mission, Doctor, and wait there until you hear
from me."
"And in the morning you leave for the Wiramwazi
Mountains?" asked von Harben.
"I leave at once," said the ape-man.
"But it is already dark," objected von Harben.
"There is a full moon and I wish to take advantage of it,"
explained the other. "I can lie up in the heat of the day for what
rest I need." He turned and called Muviro to him. "Return home
with my warriors, Muviro," he instructed, "and hold every
fighting man of the Waziri in readiness in the event that I find it
necessary to send for you."
"Yes, Bwana," replied Muviro; "and how long shall we wait for
a message before we set out for the Wiramwazi Mountains in
search of you?"
"I shall take Nkima with me and if I need you I shall send him
back to fetch and to guide you."
"Yes, Bwana," replied Muviro. "They will be in readiness—all
the fighting men of the Waziri. Their weapons will be at hand by
day and by night and fresh war-paint will be ready in every pot."
Tarzan swung his bow and his quiver of arrows across his
back. Over his left shoulder and under his right arm lay the coils
of his grass rope and at his hip dangled the hunting-knife of his
long-dead sire. He picked up his short spear and stood for a
moment with head up, sniffing the breeze. The firelight played
upon his bronzed skin.
For a moment he stood thus, every sense alert. Then he called
to Nkima in the tongue of the ape folk and as the little monkey
scampered toward him, Tarzan of the Apes turned without a
word of farewell and moved silently off into the jungle, his lithe
carriage, his noiseless tread, his majestic mien suggesting to the
mind of von Harben a personification of another mighty jungle
animal, Numa the lion, king of beasts.
Chapter Two
ERICH VON HARBEN stepped from his tent upon the slopes
of the Wiramwazi Mountains to look upon a deserted camp.
When he had first awakened, the unusual quiet of his
surroundings had aroused within him a presentiment of ill,
which was augmented when repeated calls for his body-servant,
Gabula, elicited no response.
For weeks, as the safari had been approaching the precincts of
the feared Wiramwazi, his men had been deserting by twos and
threes until the preceding evening when they had made this
camp well upon the mountain slopes only a terrified remnant of
the original safari had remained with him. Now even these,
overcome during the night by the terrors of ignorance and
superstition, had permitted fear to supplant loyalty and had fled
from the impending and invisible terrors of this frowning range,
leaving their master alone with the bloodthirsty spirits of the
dead.
A hasty survey of the camp site revealed that the men had
stripped von Harben of everything. All of his supplies were gone
and his gun carriers had decamped with his rifles and all of his
ammunition, with the exception of a single Luger pistol and its
belt of ammunition that had been in the tent with him.
Erich von Harben had had sufficient experience with these
natives to understand fairly well the mental processes based
upon their deep-rooted superstition that had led them to this
seemingly inhuman and disloyal act and so he did not place so
much blame upon them as might another less familiar with
them.
While they had known their destination when they embarked
upon the undertaking, their, courage had been high in direct
proportion to the great distance that they had been from the
Wiramwazi, but in proportion as the distance lessened with each
day's march their courage had lessened until now upon the very
threshold of horrors beyond the ken of human minds the last
vestige of self-control had deserted them and they had fled
precipitately.
That they had taken his provisions, his rifles and his
ammunition might have seemed the depth of baseness had von
Harben not realized the sincerity of their belief that there could
be no possible hope for him and that his immediate death was a
foregone conclusion.
He knew that they had reasoned that under the circumstances
it would be a waste of food to leave it behind for a man who was
already as good as dead when they would need it for their return
journey to their villages, and likewise, as the weapons of mortal
man could avail nothing against the ghosts of Wiramwazi, it
would have be«n a needless extravagance to have surrendered
fine rifles and quantities of ammunition that von Harben could
not use against his enemies of the spirit world.
Von Harben stood for some time looking down the mountain
slope toward the forest, somewhere in the depths of which his
men were hastening toward their own country. That he might
overtake them was a possibility, but by no means a certainty,
and if he did not he would be no better off alone in the jungle
than he would be on the slopes of the Wiramwazi.
He faced about and looked up toward the rugged heights
above him. He had come a long way to reach his goal, which now
lay somewhere just beyond that serrated skyline, and he was of
no mind to turn back now in defeat. A day or a week in these
rugged mountains might reveal the secret of The Lost Tribe of
legend, and surely a month would be sufficient to determine
beyond a reasonable doubt that the story had no basis in fact, for
von Harben believed that in a month he could fairly well explore
such portions of the range as might naturally lend themselves to
human habitation, where he hoped at best to find relics of the
fabled tribe in the form of ruins or burial mounds. For to a man
of von Harben's training and intelligence there could be no
thought that The Lost Tribe of legend, if it had ever existed,
could be anything more than a vague memory surrounding a few
moldy artifacts and some crumbling bones.
It did not take the young man long to reach a decision and
presently he turned back to his tent and, entering it, packed a
few necessities that had been left to him in a light haversack,
strapped his ammunition belt about him, and stepped forth once
more to turn his face upward toward the mystery of the
Wiramwazi.
In addition to his Luger, von Harben carried a hunting-knife
and with this he presently cut a stout staff from one of the small
trees that grew sparsely upon the mountainside against the time
when he might find an alpenstock indispensable.
A mountain rill furnished him pure, cold water to quench his
thirst, and he carried his pistol cocked, hoping that he might bag
some small game to satisfy his hunger. Nor had he gone far
before a hare broke cover, and as it rolled over to the crack of the
Luger, von Harben gave thanks that he had devoted much time
to perfecting himself in the use of small arms.
On the spot he built a fire and grilled the hare, after which he
lit his pipe and lay at ease while he smoked and planned. His was
not a temperament to be depressed or discouraged by seeming
reverses, and he was determined not to be hurried by
excitement, but to conserve his strength at all times during the
strenuous days that he felt must lie ahead of him.
All day he climbed, choosing the long way when it seemed
safer, exercising all the lore of mountain-climbing that he had
accumulated, and resting often. Night overtook him well up
toward the summit of the highest ridge that had been visible
from the base of the range. What lay behind, he could not even
guess, but experience suggested that he would find other ridges
and frowning peaks before him.
He had brought a blanket with him from the last camp and in
this he rolled up on the ground. From below there came the
noises of the jungle subdued by distance—the yapping of jackals
and faintly from afar the roaring of a lion.
Toward morning he was awakened by the scream of a leopard,
not from the jungle far below, but somewhere upon the
mountain slopes near by. He knew that this savage night prowler
constituted a real menace, perhaps the greatest he would have to
face, and he regretted the loss of his heavy rifle.
He was not afraid, for he knew that after all there was little
likelihood that the leopard was hunting him or that it would
attack him, but there was always that chance and so to guard
against it he started a fire of dry wood that he had gathered for
the purpose the night before. He found the warmth of the blaze
welcome, for the night had grown cold, and he sat for some time
warming himself.
Once he thought he heard an animal moving in the darkness
beyond the range of the firelight, but he saw no shining eyes and
the sound was not repeated. And then he must have slept, for the
next thing that he knew it was daylight and only embers
remained to mark where the beast fire had blazed.
摘要：

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